Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(49)

After Nick left, Josie sat at her kitchen table with a pencil and a sheet of lined paper, trying to sort fact from theory. She’d drawn nothing but a series of empty square boxes stacked atop each other. Her mind was racing so fast she wasn’t able to hang on to anything that came to her. When her department-issued cell phone buzzed on the table she stifled a scream. She recognized Otto’s number.

“This is Josie.”

“Is Nick still there?”

“No, he just left. I’m getting ready to pack a bag for Dell’s house. The security team is getting set up outside. They’ll work through the night on the new system.”

“What’s Nick’s take on Dillon’s message?”

“He didn’t really commit. I think he’d like to see a clearer connection between Wally and the Medranos. I think we’ll find it.”

“Same here. The agents agreed. They can’t trace the actual text message but they’re hoping to ping the tower.” Otto paused and Josie could sense his hesitation.

“What is it?”

“Agent Haskins said they traced Dillon’s cell phone to a tower in Piedra Labrada. They’ve lost the signal, but that was where the text he sent you on the night he was kidnapped originated.”

Josie felt her body sigh. She had still been hanging on to the hope that he was being kept in the United States, where law enforcement could at least operate with authority. A confirmed kidnapping in Mexico made their job exponentially harder.

“If the texts you’re receiving from the kidnappers match the same tower in Piedra Labrada, we’ll at least have a location, Josie. That’s good news.”

Josie said nothing, unable to see the bright side.

“What kind of information did Nick give you?” he asked.

“He’s moving in with me. Tomorrow. He went home to settle his things and pack his gear.”

“You think that’s wise?”

Josie laughed, but there was no joy in her voice. “Who the hell knows what’s wise when every move is a gamble?”

Otto paused, evidently deciding not to quiz her further. “I made an appointment for you to talk with Julian Beckwith at his office in El Paso tomorrow morning.”

Josie closed her eyes and pressed the cell phone against her ear, clenching her jaws for a moment. “I thought you were taking that one?” she finally asked.

“The kid’s a smartass. He’ll take one look at me, some over-the-hill fat cop, and dismiss us. I think he’ll deal better with you. Young and female.”

“We’ve got a better lead with Wally Follet. I’d planned on working that angle tomorrow.”

“Josie, the statement from Dillon is compelling, but—”

“Compelling? It’s a hell of a lot more than that! Have you ever in your life heard Dillon use the phrase I’m wrecked? Come on!”

“As I said, it’s a compelling lead, but so is Beckwith.” She started to speak but he cut her off. “Josie. Hear me out. I’ve been working on Dillon’s activity for the week before he was taken. The last phone call Dillon made from work? To Beckwith’s office. Dillon was gathering financial data on an oil company in Redford for Beckwith. It’s a family-owned oil company being bought out by this smartass kid, and Dillon’s in the middle. To my knowledge, Beckwith is the only person associated with Dillon who has that kind of money at his disposal.”

“Why would Beckwith work with an accountant in Artemis?”

“Dillon’s the only accountant for fifty miles. If Beckwith wanted a local connection, Dillon would be the one to choose.”

“Let’s send Marta.”

“Come on, Josie. She’s not the right person for this any more than I am. Get your head on straight and approach this as a cop.”

“You’re really pissing me off right now.”

“Look at the evidence,” he continued. “The files that were taken? A through G. Beckwith is also in those files. We can’t base an entire case on one phrase.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it. That phrase clearly connects Dillon to Wally Follet. Maybe Follet is the middleman. Maybe they took Dillon hoping he could lead the kidnappers to Follet.” She paused and sighed heavily. “Come on, Otto. Give me tomorrow to work on him. One day.”

“I won’t budge on this, Josie. Beckwith rescheduled his appointments to get us in so quickly. Go talk with him. If he has nothing to offer, then at least we’ll know.”

Josie hung up and stormed off to pack a bag to take to Dell’s for the night. By the time she finished, the security crew was already drilling holes through the ceiling in her living room, and two men were setting up a wireless alarm system in the pantry. When she had called Dell to confirm she could stay at his place another night, he had offered to fix them both a late dinner. She gladly accepted.

By seven o’clock Josie stood on Dell’s front porch with Chester and her overnight bag. The dog pushed inside before her and skidded across the plank wood floors, toenails clicking, until he slid into Dell, who was taking a casserole dish out of the oven. Dell laughed, removed his oven mitts, and bent down to scratch the dog’s ears, dodging his attempts to lick Dell’s face.

She couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. Dell had infinite patience with the dog, but claimed he had no patience with people. He had chosen a life of desert solitude over one that involved interaction with people, but Josie had never seen anything from Dell but kindness and compassion, at least toward people who gave a shit. She often wondered what had brought him to Artemis twenty years ago: never married, no kids, no close friends besides Josie. She had hinted at the question, but he’d never elaborated and she respected his silence. She had enough silence of her own to justify.