Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(54)
“They think you sabotage their business so that you can then buy them for a profit?”
“Inevitably, there are people who are losing their jobs who see it that way.”
“Is it true?” she asked.
“I don’t need to sabotage their businesses. Their alternative is bankruptcy.”
“What can you tell me about Black Gold Drilling?”
He nodded once, acknowledging the abrupt change in the conversation. “I buy businesses all over the southwest, so many that I have to rely on local accountants like Dillon Reese.” He paused and cocked his head thoughtfully. “Have you ever been to Redford?”
She nodded.
“It’s hours from here, in the middle of nowhere. No cell phone reception, no stores, no gas stations. Just a few ranches. I needed someone close to Redford who could work with the family, gather data, and monitor progress. I certainly wasn’t going to make that drive.”
Josie acknowledged his point. West Texas was one of the most remote areas of the United States, and Redford was one of the most remote border towns in West Texas. The closest Walmart was a three-hour drive, located in Fort Stockton.
“The last case Dillon worked on the day he was kidnapped was Black Gold Drilling. Employees were refusing to cooperate. It looked as if things weren’t going smoothly.”
Beckwith smirked. “You’re not here because you think his kidnapping could be linked to Black Gold, are you?”
“Could it?”
His phone buzzed and he picked it up, spoke to someone, and asked them to wait.
He faced her, his expression sober. “Mr. Reese represented a West Texas venture in Redford for me. That’s it. I can’t see any reason someone would kidnap him for access to a drilling company in Redford. It’s actually a fairly lame takeover. Maybe a half million at stake. They were so far under they were begging for someone to keep them all from drowning.” He stood. “I have a meeting. Sorry I can’t help you.”
He walked toward the door and she followed, but said nothing. She shook his hand and thanked him. He walked ahead of her down the hallway and entered the glass conference room, where a table full of people seemed to be waiting for him. She couldn’t believe his callous response to a woman’s death and a man’s kidnapping.
In what sounded like a childish afterthought, Beckwith popped his head back into the hallway and called after her. “Hope things go better for Mr. Reese.”
*
The flat stretch of asphalt, the miles of eighteen wheelers, truck stops, and desert flatland, flowed along in a monotonous progression, allowing Josie time to dwell on the disaster that she was living. The investigation was barely limping along. Otto and Marta had already talked to twelve other clients and gotten nowhere. As far as she was concerned, the Beckwith and Black Gold Drilling connection was unlikely. She could understand abducting Dillon, trying to force information from him to gain access to a wealthy client’s investments, but the ransom didn’t connect. If the kidnapper was after client information, why ransom Dillon for nine million dollars? And, especially, why send the message through her? What could a kidnapper possibly gain by demanding a ransom from her, someone who didn’t have the money?
Once again, Josie was drawn back to the revenge angle. She could imagine the sadistic bastard, the leader of the Medranos known as the Bishop, playing with their lives and enjoying every minute of it. But Nick was adamant that the Medranos wouldn’t put this much money into play without expecting a big payoff in the end. He claimed money was the driving force for the Medranos. So then, what about Hector Follet, creeping around his own backyard, spying on a group of men sitting across the river in Mexico as they spied on his house at night? What the hell did that mean? Were they all looking for Wally? It seemed clear to Josie that Wally hadn’t fled town because of the indictment alone. He most likely left because he screwed one too many people over. And his son was now paying the price, as well as Christina and Dillon.
She stared at the yellow lane divider, rolling out in front of her, mile after mile, and she allowed the thought that she had been avoiding since Dillon’s disappearance. If Dillon didn’t return, then her constant struggle to maintain her independence would suddenly be replaced by heartbreaking loneliness.
SIXTEEN
Josie was back in the office by one that afternoon, typing up a few notes from the Beckwith interview, when she heard Otto’s uneven footsteps coming up the stairs. She dreaded the day he would walk into the office and announce the physical demands were too much and he was handing in his badge. Delores wanted him to set a retirement date but so far he’d refused to do so. Josie hoped this case wasn’t the one that pushed him into a retirement he wasn’t ready to take. He may have been slowing down physically, but mentally he was a first-rate cop whom the department could not afford to lose.
“Any word?” he asked as he entered the room.
“Nothing.”
“Anything come up with Beckwith?”
“He’s worth a fortune and hated by all. But he claims no one has access to his money but himself.” Josie explained that the Black Gold Drilling buyout was no different from any other buyout. It was worth a half million, and at this point, not worth exploring further. She was mildly surprised when he accepted her verdict with little argument, but she could tell he was preoccupied with something else.