The Territory: A Novel

by Tricia Fields

  Moss shook his head and walked by Otto and Josie without a word. He slammed the door behind him, rattling the glass. They looked at each other, listening to his cowboy boots banging down the stairs.

  “What do you do with information like that?” Otto said finally. “The people of this town ought to know the kind of yahoo they elected into office.”

  “He operates inside the margins, but just barely.”

  “You think he’s mixed up with Red’s death? With Medrano?”

  “I don’t know.” Josie shook her head. “Here’s what bothers me, though. We know Deputy Bloster was cooking the books. He was submitting a vague expense summary directly to the commissioners. The sheriff provided Dillon a whole box of receipts and paperwork that Bloster had cooked, but before that, all those doctored receipts never left his own office. They didn’t have to. The commissioners never asked for them. The city police? We have to submit a detailed expense report with receipts attached. Is it that Moss hates me and wants to make my life miserable? He figures a good ole boy like Martínez would never screw the city? Or is Moss in on the scheme?”

  FIFTEEN

  Standing at the bathroom sink, putting on mascara, Pegasus was thinking about her brother. She wondered if he had left town and was thinking he was a son of a bitch for not calling her first, when she heard banging on the outside of the trailer by the living room door. She put her makeup down and grabbed the pistol she kept by her bedside table. She popped the magazine into the gun and advanced a bullet, then leaned against the wall in the kitchen to peer out the side of the curtains. She saw a man flattened against the side of the trailer beside the door and grinned. Kenny was checking out her response.

  She yelled, “Step away from the door before I shoot a bullet through your head!” She unlocked the dead bolt, swung the door open, and pointed the gun toward Kenny’s head in one fluid motion.

  He smiled widely. “Nice. Very nice. You win this round.”

  He followed her inside the trailer. The air-conditioning had been running all day, and the temperature was almost cold. Kenny sighed and flopped on the recliner, staring at the empty space where the couch used to be.

  “They have a Goodwill downtown. Stop by and tell them you’re looking for a couch. Tell Marie you’re my sister. She’s got connections around town. She’d probably get it delivered, knowing her.”

  She nodded and threw an old bed pillow on the floor and sat on it, leaning her back against the living room wall. “So what’s the plan?” she asked.

  “I want to take you out for lessons one more time before I hit the road. I think you’ll be okay. I got the word around town that you’re a badass. Somebody’ll think twice before coming out here and screwing with you.”

  “Why do you want to draw attention to me? Nobody even knows I exist here.”

  He laughed. “Red Goff laid out on your couch like a mortuary? Trust me. Everybody knows who you are and where you live. You’re either the joker’s right-hand girl, or they want to take you out for killing the desert’s last messiah. No in between out here in the sticks.”

  “I don’t ask for this. This stuff just follows me around. You’re quick enough to stay two steps in front of it. Not me, though. I’m always knee deep in the sewage.”

  “You hang out here where I know where you are. I got some guys keeping an eye on you, watching the trailer and the gas station.” He leaned to one side in the recliner and pulled his wallet out of his back jeans pocket. He took out a wad of cash. “There’s five hundred bucks there. I paid Drench your rent for the next six months. That ought to keep you floating until I get things settled.”

  “What things?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “So, take me with you. Let me help.”

  He stood. “Hide your money. Let’s go shoot.”

  * * *

  Josie paced the office after Moss left, thinking through the mayor’s actions and his response to her subterfuge, trying to determine if he was an idiot or a criminal. Otto got annoyed with her and left to buy a snack. She considered his remark about counseling and knew he was right. She had always thought a line-of-duty killing would be something she would attack rationally, break it down into pieces like any other problem. Once she examined the events leading up to the shooting, the act itself, and her actions afterwards, she would determine if the killing was justified. She would answer questions such as, Was it was necessary? Did it save another person’s life? Would she do it again in the same situation?

  But that wasn’t how things were turning out. There would be an investigation by DPS into the shootings. She needed to get the details and facts straight in her mind. But she found herself numb to the details, as if she couldn’t feel anything. She wanted to feel guilt or anger or even shame, but she just felt empty.

  She called Escobedo to check on the details of the prisoner transfer, and he said it was complete. Three of the prisoners had been housed in solitary confinement until their status could be evaluated. Gutiérrez was in the infirmary but would most likely be transferred out the next day.

  She stood at the window, looking at the clear blue sky and wished she were outside, walking through the hills up into the ponderosa pine behind Dell’s place. She imagined the smell of mesquite and baked earth and could feel the heat on her skin. The intensity of the last week was catching up with her. She was exhausted and having a hard time maintaining focus. She walked to the back of the office for another cup of coffee.

  After Otto returned, they sat at the conference table and ate packages of mini chocolate-covered doughnuts. To Josie, they tasted as if they were dipped in paraffin, but Otto loved them. He finished his own package and started on hers.

  “Someone killed Red and laid him out on Winning’s couch. Why didn’t they just drop him in the dirt? What’s the connection to her?” she asked. “It’s gnawing away at me, and I can’t get past it.”

  Otto dipped the last doughnut in a cup of steaming coffee, swearing as half of it dropped to the bottom of the cup. “If Medrano is the connection, who knows? Those people have a flair for the dramatic. You ever notice that? Beheadings, dead bodies hung off overpasses, body parts run up flagpoles. Maybe laying out Red’s body in her trailer was some kind of artsy statement.”

  She looked at her watch. “It’s after six. Winning ought to be at work. I’m going to drive over there again.”

  “You want me to ride along?”

  “No. I just need to get a feel for it again. Someone shot Red, stole his guns, flooded his basement, and moved his body to look as if he’d been shot in Winning’s living room. The only thing that makes any sense to me concerning motive is someone wanted his route. Somebody wanted the connection to the Mexicans. Bloster makes more sense than anyone else, but he’s got an alibi. And I don’t see him moving the body.”

  “You ever get his work schedule confirmed?” Otto asked.

  “Winning came home at eight thirty in the morning. She went to bed, woke up at five P.M., and found Red dead on her couch. Hack Bloster worked day shift that day. I’ve read the transcript for his radio contact with the dispatcher throughout the day. There were brief periods of time that he could have shot Red, but it seems unlikely. He’d have to have killed him, carried his dead body through the yard, and then positioned him in the trailer by himself, all while in uniform. It doesn’t feel right. Even if Hack killed Red, someone else was involved, too.”

  * * *

  Josie drove slowly down Winning’s lane, scoping out the deserted area. Other than Red’s place and Winning’s trailer, there wasn’t another house for miles. She pulled her jeep beside Winning’s black Eldorado and killed the engine. She scanned the area and saw no movement. The curtains were drawn on the trailer, and it appeared dark inside. Josie got out of her car and walked up to the trailer, tried the handle, found it locked, and was pleased Winning was taking precautions, although Josie couldn’t imagine whom the woman would leave with. She knew basically no one and was supposed to
be at work.

  She heard gunshots. A single, then three quick fires. Josie ran for her car, taking cover behind the front bumper. The shots were coming from Red’s place. Thirty seconds later, more shots in quick succession. Josie radioed Otto for backup, and then decided she would be less a target on foot than in the car. She ran down the line of pine trees that bordered the east side of the driveway. The shots were coming from behind the mound of dirt and bushes that covered the top of Red’s house. Easing slowly up the hill, her gun aimed and ready, the shots started again, two singles, then rapid fire. She had counted a total of ten shots, and assumed a magazine had been emptied.

  Behind the thick stand of bushes she heard voices, a male and a female, laughing.

  Inching closer, she found Pegasus Winning and the man she assumed was her brother, Kenny, target-shooting at paper plates duct-taped to a pile of scrap wood. Josie stood unnoticed for a few minutes, watching the two interact. It became obvious there was a shooting lesson being given. Kenny was taking the experience more seriously than Pegasus was.

  Josie holstered her gun, approached them from behind, and yelled hello. Kenny Winning turned around in surprise tinged with something else: anger or panic, she couldn’t be sure.

  “I’m Chief Josie Gray. And you are?”

  He introduced himself but didn’t offer a handshake.

  “So, you’re the elusive brother. How long have you been in town?” Josie asked.

  “Couple days.”

  “How long is a couple?”

  “Two or three,” he said, shoving his pistol in his back pocket.

  “Let’s narrow it down to an exact date. When did you arrive in Artemis?”

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “It’s a question, and I’d like an answer.”

  “I don’t know. Tuesday, I think.”

  “That’s funny. I talked to someone who saw you on Monday.”

  He glared at her and pulled a bandanna from his back pocket to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. “Why’d you ask the question if you already had the answer?” he asked.

  Winning rolled her eyes. “She’s talking smack, Kenny. She’s been looking for you all week. Don’t listen to this.”

  Josie noticed the difference in her demeanor. She was tougher in front of her brother; she had always acted more bored with Josie.

  Josie addressed Pegasus. “I think it’s the other way around. I’ve asked you about your brother several times. Each time you’ve denied he was here. Now it sounds like he’s been here since Monday. Why didn’t you just tell me if you weren’t trying to hide something?”

  Pegasus took her ponytail down and angrily pulled her hair back again, getting the sweaty strands off her face. She started to speak, but Kenny interrupted her.

  “You people kill me. Cops automatically assume the world should bare their collective soul to you at the asking. I got news: People aren’t aching to talk to you. That takes a little more trust than most people can give.”

  “I really couldn’t care less about your soul, bared or otherwise. I’ve got a murder to solve and one awfully evasive suspect.”

  “So, I’m a suspect now?”

  “Until you can convince me otherwise.”

  “What happened to—?”

  Josie interrupted. “Innocent until proven guilty? I’ve heard it too many times to count. You give me an honest, straight-up answer, and I won’t have any reason to question your guilt.”

  He stared at her and didn’t say a word.

  She nodded, her face flushed with anger. “I’ll try this one more time. If you don’t want to be polite, I’ll handcuff you and take you down to the station, where I don’t have to be polite either. Puts us on a level playing field that way. So, here’s what I want from you.” She held a hand up in the air to tick each point off on a finger. “When did you arrive? What are you doing here? When are you leaving?”

  “Tuesday. Visiting my sister. Tuesday.” He held his thumb up for the first answer, his first finger up for the second, and his middle finger up for the third. He smiled as he stood there, flipping her off.

  “What was your relationship with Red Goff?”

  “He was a cretin.”

  “And?”

  “He was a jerk. A pervert. I hated Pegasus living back here by him, and I’m glad he’s not around to harass her anymore.”

  “Where were you last Sunday, the day Red was killed?” Josie asked.

  “I was driving from New Orleans. I went down and stayed with friends for a while. I got a friend who can vouch I was still in New Orleans Sunday morning.”

  “If you thought Red was so awful, why did you tell your sister to come up here, then leave her with no word on your whereabouts?”

  “I got to make money. Can’t make it around this hellhole.”

  “I thought you went to New Orleans to visit.”

  “I went to N.O. for a lot of reasons. Pegasus is capable.”

  “Is that why you’re out here teaching her how to shoot?”

  “You bet it is. You got to be prepared.”

  * * *

  Kenny provided plenty of banter but no information, and Josie left. He had said he planned to leave the next morning. Josie didn’t like him, but she had no reason to keep him from leaving. As she walked down the hill that ran beside Red’s house toward Winning’s trailer, she saw a black stretch sedan with tinted windows coming down the road, traveling fast. It appeared to be an Infiniti or some other foreign luxury car. All the windows were up, and the car was throwing a wake of dust behind it. Even at a dead run, she couldn’t make it to her car before the sedan reached her. With images of the gunmen from her bedroom in her mind and her adrenaline surging, she pulled her gun and clicked the safety off. Sweat beaded on her upper lip as she considered her next move. She had already called Lou and canceled the call for backup. She remembered she had the key to Red’s house still in her pants’ pocket and fished it out as she ran the rest of the way down the hill beside Red’s and put the key into the sliding door. Bulletproof glass, she thought. The car was heading down the driveway toward Red’s place as she pushed the door open, entered, and locked it again. She stepped back away from the door and knew she could not be seen through the tinted glass.

  The car pulled to a stop directly in front of the door as she radioed Lou again to ask Otto’s location. Lou said he had stopped for a stranded motorist, and Josie requested immediate backup from anyone in the area. She told Lou to call Border Patrol and request immediate assistance.

  The feeling she’d had at the trauma unit, trapped inside the operating room with gunmen prowling outside, was back.

  The driver of the sedan, a muscular white male dressed in a black suit, opened his door and didn’t even bother a glance toward the house before opening the back door. A large well-dressed man with a barrel chest, a dark pockmarked face, and a long, neatly trimmed mustache exited the car. He wore white linen pants and a pale blue linen shirt with a cigar in the pocket. His face was heavily lined below his tinted sunglasses, and his hair was jet black and oiled back in a manner she associated with trouble. Josie figured he was about six foot two and 250 pounds. Two other men, both wearing dark suits, white shirts, and sunglasses, exited after him and converged behind him next to the driver.

  Josie spread her feet slightly in a shooter position and held her pistol firmly in her right hand.

  The large man smiled and bowed slightly, dipping his head toward her, even though she was certain she couldn’t be seen. She had seen pictures of the Bishop, and she had no doubt it was him.

  “Chief Gray? Please, let us have a civil conversation, man to woman. Please.” He spoke loudly, and she could hear his muffled voice through the glass. “Please, you offend me. Your safety is assured. I would never dream of hurting a lady as lovely as you.”

  Josie kept her attention focused on the men in front of her and hoped Pegasus and Kenny wouldn’t walk down the driveway into the middle of it.

  Josie moved
to the right of the door, where she was still protected but could talk more easily. “What are you doing on Red Goff’s property?” she yelled.

  “Mr. Goff and I were acquainted. I came to pay my respects.”

  “To who?”

  He tilted his head, gave a dismissive gesture. “To the place. To the spirit of Mr. Goff.”

  The sun was setting, but it was still over ninety degrees. The Bishop looked cool and unfazed in his sunglasses.

  “Maybe I was looking for you,” he said.

  She felt the familiar burn in her stomach. “I’m listening.”

  The Bishop turned from her and faced one of his men. Several seconds later, the cell phone in her pocket rang. She pulled it out of her pocket as he retrieved a cell phone from his bodyguard. It was her police number, a restricted number, and he had access. She opened her phone in spite of her fury.

  “Let’s be civil, Ms. Gray. You won’t come out here and talk with me? We’ll talk by phone. You run a nice town here. Good people. You want to keep the town safe. I have no problem with that. Your little town has no interest to me, no—” He stopped, struggling to find the right words. “I want no more than a road into Texas. A simple access, uncomplicated. You and I, we can have a mutually acceptable agreement. I provide you with security, with the tools to keep your town safe. You need guns and weapons, a new jail? I provide that. You need a house with security, a place where you go home at night and feel secure? I provide that. Everyone benefits.”

  Josie stared at him and wondered how easily Hack Bloster had sacrificed his principles for this man. How long had it taken Bloster to sign away his career for a pile of blood money?

  “Mr. Medrano, you may have bargained with others in my town, but you won’t bargain with me. I abide by the rules, and I enforce them. I won’t negotiate with you. You can cross the border legally in Presidio, just like all the other Mexicans.”