Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(45)

“You’re talking about the land on either side of the border?”

She nodded. “Around here, the territory represents about three hundred miles on either side of the border.”

“Okay.”

“There was a fight in a nightclub one night that turned deadly. Hector Medrano was shot, and they determined it was too risky to take him to a hospital in Mexico,” she said.

“So they took him to the U.S.” He finished the story for her, an incredulous grin on his face. “You’re the lady cop that killed the Bishop’s father. I can’t believe it took me so long to make the connection.”

“I didn’t kill him. He was killed by a rival cartel member, but it took place on my watch, in my hospital.”

“And now they want revenge?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I’ve had threats on my life since then, but it’s been bravado. Friends in Mexico, other cops have told me that the Medranos have issued a death threat against me, but so far it’s just been talk. Killing cops in the U.S. isn’t something the cartels have taken on. Yet.”

He narrowed his eyes and gave her a skeptical look. “It doesn’t feel right. If they wanted revenge, you’d be dead. They’d kidnap and torture you, not someone associated with you. Even if he is your lover.”

“But why Dillon?” She held up the cell phone. “This is what was left in my pantry. They broke into my house yesterday while I was at work and left it hanging on the hook where I hang my gun belt each night after work.”

He rolled his neck and shook his shoulders several times as if trying to loosen up, but said nothing.

She passed him copies of the pictures that were sent on the cell phone. She had printed the photographs for the FBI agents and had made copies for herself.

He read the ransom demand in the second photo several times. “Strictly money,” he muttered to himself.

“What about Dillon’s secretary? Why kill her?” Josie asked earnestly. “We’re fairly certain Dillon was abducted while supposedly meeting with a new client in a deserted neighborhood. It was a setup. And Christina wasn’t killed until several hours later.”

“The killing was a warning. They couldn’t have sent you a clearer message. They are not screwing around. They used to do it with dogs, or horses, or by torturing someone. But it’s all the same to them, and a life is more effective.” He looked at his watch, and Josie glanced at the clock on her stove. 4:39 P.M. “You need to prepare yourself. Most likely, they’ll injure Dillon on camera and send it to you. They will hurt him so you can watch him scream. The goal is to scare the shit out of you so you do what they want.”

Josie got up and walked to the kitchen sink. She stared out the window above it; the anger she felt was so strong her vision was blurring. This was not what she’d expected to hear. She wanted a plan of action, something she could finally do that would make a difference.

Nick remained at the table, his tone still firm. “They can’t afford to injure him severely. He’s worth too much money. They don’t have the medical staff to deal with infection and it’s not worth their time. I can almost guarantee it won’t be a gunshot. There’s too much risk, too great a chance the bullet will miss the mark. You’ll probably see a knife. A surface wound. A lot of blood.”

Josie rested her hands and her head on the edge of the sink for a minute to think. How the hell was she supposed to deal with this?

“You need to prepare for the phone call. They can’t know I’m involved. Again, that would tell them you have money. Come sit down.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to shut down her anger. It was like a fever raging through her. She returned to the table, silent.

Nick leaned forward. His eyes were black with dark circles beneath them. He looked directly at her, forcing her to return his stare. “I’ve negotiated over a hundred cases. I get your anger, and I already know all the other shitty emotions you’re about to move through. I can write it all down on a piece of paper. Shrinks have all this shit written in books about what victims can expect. It doesn’t make any difference. You just have to get your head around the fact that your life will be hell until this is resolved. Anger is okay. It’s a hell of a lot better than guilt and tears, which get you nowhere. But you can’t let the anger take over.”

Josie stared at him, allowing his message to sink in. She finally nodded.

“All right then. Let’s get busy.”

*

As Josie was talking with Nick Santos, Otto was skimming through Dillon Reese’s Sky Drop account, searching for any files involving Julian Beckwith and Wally Follet, two potential links to Dillon’s kidnapping who couldn’t be more different. Even though they suspected the Medrano cartel was behind Dillon’s kidnapping, the Medranos had not been specifically identified and the motive for the kidnapping was still unclear. While Agents Omstead and Haskins were focusing on the cartel angle, Otto firmly believed the PD needed to continue pursuing other leads. After thirty years of police work, he’d seen too many investigations derail after an officer let a hunch overrun the facts. It was a danger Otto would not allow.

While examining Dillon’s e-mail and work records, Otto had checked the dates on each file to learn which had last been modified. He discovered that Julian Beckwith’s account was the last one Dillon had worked on the day he was kidnapped. Dillon had sent four e-mails to Blake Smith, an employee at a Redford, Texas, oil company named Black Gold Drilling, over the two-day period before his disappearance. From what Otto could tell, the company was going under and Beckwith was attempting to buy it out. Dillon appeared to be the middleman, e-mailing Blake for tax information, although his involvement beyond that wasn’t clear.