Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(71)
The first few miles were a dusty gravel road that meandered through ranch land, but the farther north she traveled the tighter the curves became, zigzagging a rugged path up into the Chinati Mountains. Coming around a bend she saw a small herd of javelina racing across the road and hit the brakes hard, her back tires spinning out in the loose gravel. Josie stopped the jeep and watched them scurry around a patch of mesquite and prickly pear cactus, each perched on dainty hooved feet that looked as if they couldn’t possibly hold the weight of their large bodies and heads. She rolled down her window to let the cool air into the jeep, already warming in the bright morning sunlight. When they sensed she meant them no harm, the javelina came out into the open again, foraging in the dirt and around the bushes for food.
She finally hit pavement again for the last thirty miles into Marfa, where the headquarters for the Big Bend Border Patrol Sector was located. The sector covered over 135,000 square miles of Texas and Oklahoma, the largest area of any sector on the southwest border. The Big Bend Sector was responsible for over 510 miles of border along the Rio Grande River, almost a quarter of the country’s border with Mexico.
As she pulled into the small headquarters parking lot, Josie spotted Jimmy standing and talking to a state trooper in a marked black-and-white car. She pulled in several spaces away to give Jimmy time to finish his conversation, and she radioed her location. Jimmy noticed her jeep shortly after and walked over.
She got out of her car and he approached with his hand extended, a look of concern on his usually smiling face. “I am sorry as hell to hear about what happened. Any leads on the kidnapping?” Jimmy wore the customary dark green Border Patrol uniform and a gun belt with a .40 caliber pistol and several clips hanging from the side.
“You won’t even believe it. That’s why I’m here.”
“Absolutely. Let’s get out of the heat. It’s supposed to be upper eighties by this afternoon. We’re about to skip spring and head right into summer.”
As they walked into the building Josie said, “Congratulations on the promotion. Supervisory patrol agent?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal but gave her a wide smile. “Hell, it’s just more paperwork. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Trimly built, with a strong, capable bearing, Jimmy was one of the friendliest officers she knew, but he could turn aggressive in a heartbeat. He had worked with her almost two years ago when they had apprehended several vehicles crossing the Rio carrying enough ammunition and explosives to blow up the entire town. She had a great deal of respect for his abilities and knew his knowledge of the cartel situation along the Tex-Mex border would be especially helpful.
Josie followed Jimmy into his office and sat across the desk from him. It was a small, brightly lit room lined with bookshelves filled with various colored binders. His desk was neatly organized, and he picked up a pen that lay on a blank legal pad for note-taking.
“I was set up, Jimmy.” Her throat constricted, and she looked away from him. She took a deep breath, angry at her emotional reaction.
Jimmy stood suddenly from behind his desk. “Where the hell are my manners? Let me get us both a coffee. Black?”
She nodded and he left the office. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, taking the images of Dillon and filing them away for later. Compartmentalize, she told herself.
A few minutes later, Jimmy sat a cup in front of her and resumed his seat. “It’s pretty strong, but I’ve had worse.” He looked at her expectantly as she took a sip.
“Thanks, Jimmy. I’m just so pissed off right now. I’ve got this crazy, out-of-control anger that I’ve never had in my life.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
She stared down into the steaming coffee in the Styrofoam cup, and forced herself to consider Dillon as she would any other victim. She took a deep breath and exhaled, finally looking up at Jimmy.
“You know the ransom demand for Dillon is nine million dollars?”
“Yes.”
“And they demanded fifty thousand by yesterday evening or they said Dillon would lose an arm.”
He nodded.
“Okay. I’m working with a kidnapping negotiator who had prepared me. He said paying the kidnapper’s first demand would be a huge mistake. It basically tells them that I have money. He also told me they would slash Dillon so that there was blood, enough that Dillon would cry out in pain.”
Jimmy winced, having no doubt where the conversation was headed.
“I received a video clip from the kidnappers via email. They slit his arm open. He screamed out as the negotiator said he would. The intent was obviously to get me to take them seriously.”
Jimmy’s expression hardened, and he began to jot notes on the legal pad. “As if you weren’t taking it seriously enough as it was.”
“Here’s the kicker though. On that same video, Dillon asked why I didn’t send the money. He said his life was wrecked.”
Jimmy glanced up.
“I thought he was sending me a clue with that wording. We found out that one of Dillon’s clients is Wally Follet. He’s been indicted for selling wrecked and stolen cars across the border. The Mexicans buy them, fix them up, and resell them with a clean title.”
“Yeah, I know the case. We’re pretty sure he’s transporting drugs, but we can’t pin him on it.”