“The guns?”
He tapped his cigarette repeatedly, starring at the coal on the end before finally stubbing it out. He finally said, “There were a couple hundred hanging from his living room wall. After what had just happened, it made sense. Steal the guns, sell them, and get us both the hell out of Dodge.”
“Were you going to sell them to the Mexicans?”
“A guy from the Medrano cartel somehow figured out I’d talked to Red’s connection with La Bestia. I met with La Bestia’s gun merchant once, but his offer was too low. An agent from the Medrano organization was supposed to meet me yesterday, but he never showed.”
Josie nodded, satisfied she had been the obstacle that had stopped the deal. Medrano’s last local connection was on his way to jail for murder.
* * *
After work that night, Josie stopped by Colt Goff’s apartment downtown. It was eight o’clock, and Colt invited her into the apartment. It had been cleaned, though it still smelled like stale cigarettes. Her hair had been cut, still spiked, but not so long. Josie thought she looked more put together, less defiant and angry.
A book, Mastering the SAT, was lying open on the couch. Josie pointed to it. “Going back to school?”
Colt grinned, her expression sheepish. “Maybe. I can’t stack books the rest of my life. I’m thinking about training to be a phlebotomist. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. Seemed like a good time to make a change in my life.”
Chief Gray sat on the chair across from the couch and wished her well. “I just wanted to let you know we found out who killed your dad. I didn’t want you to hear about it from gossip on the street.” She took a deep breath and dreaded the moment. Colt nodded for her to continue. “It was Kenny Winning.”
Colt’s face drained of color, her expression changing from shock to denial and confusion. “That can’t be. I used to date Kenny! He would never do something like that.” She shook her head no repeatedly.
“It had nothing to do with you, Colt. Nothing to do with your relationship with Kenny. He claims he found your dad looking into his sister’s windows. Taking pictures of her. They got into a fight over it. Your dad reached for a gun, and Kenny fired first.”
“What will happen to him? To Kenny?”
“I don’t know. That’s not up to me. He was stupid, but I don’t think he planned any of it. That will help him some.”
“You know the Gunners is why we broke up? I couldn’t handle the whole gun thing. I told Kenny no good can come from them. He thought I was just making some statement because I hated my dad.” She paused and stared at Josie for a moment. “And look what happens.”
Colt slumped back onto the couch, her face slack and lifeless. “Is it true? Did my dad—?”
Josie nodded, wishing she could protect her from the truth, but knowing the story would be front page in the newspaper by the next day. “I’ve seen the pictures. They came from your dad’s camera.”
Tears began rolling down Colt’s face, but her hands remained limp in her lap. She looked as if all the strength in her body had been drained.
Josie stood from the chair and sat beside Colt on the couch. She pulled the girl into her chest and wrapped her arms around her. Colt’s weak body began to shake, and the tears came for a long time. Josie knew the girl had no one. No family, no boyfriend to call on. Josie’s job made it painfully aware to her how alone and lonely so many people were.
After some time, Colt pulled away. She stood up and went into the bathroom and washed her face. When she returned, she’d pulled herself together somewhat.
“You can’t let this derail you.” Josie pointed to the study guide. “You’re on the right track. You deserve better than what you’ve gotten so far in life.”
“I get what you’re saying, but what good does that do me? Lots of people deserve better.”
“I believe, in the end, people get what they give. If you give hate and grief to people, it’s what you get back in return. I see it every day. That’s not who you are, though. I’m a pretty good read of people. You stay true to who you are, and someday you’ll find your peace.”
Colt considered her for a long moment. “Have you found yours?”
Josie looked at her. “I’m still trying. I’ll get there one of these days.”
* * *
On her way home that night, Josie received a phone call from Lou asking her to drop by the department. The sheriff had left a present for her. As Josie got out of her jeep, she saw two metal cages on the sidewalk by the front door of the police department. Lou was bent over one of them, poking her finger through the cage. She stood up, smiling wide, when Josie stepped onto the sidewalk.
“What’s up?”
Lou said, “Sheriff thought you needed these.”
Josie frowned, shook her head no. “Why would he think I need roosters?”
“They came from Hack Bloster’s place. He’s in jail now. Somebody’s got to take them. Sheriff thought you’d be perfect.”
“I don’t know anything about raising chickens!”
“They’re roosters.”
“Lou! I don’t know anything about chickens or roosters. Where would I put them?”
“I already called Dell. He said he’d make you a chicken coop.” Lou bent down again and put her finger through the cage to ruffle a feather. “Pretty, aren’t they?”
Josie sighed and bent down. They were beautiful animals. The fluffed-up feathers were a deep rusty color that reminded her of the streaks of red that ran through the mountains behind her house. Both of them strutted around their cages, sticking their necks out, needing a spot to roam. Lou and Josie stood and loaded the cages into her jeep.
Lou pointed to its back end, now riddled with bullet holes from the trip down the arroyo. “When you going to get your car fixed?” Lou asked.
“Let’s just get through one day at a time.”
NINETEEN
Over the next two weeks, Artemis returned to a nervous calm. The Medrano and La Bestia cartels were silent—on her side of the border, at least. Josie tried to keep visions of the Bishop out of her head, but like Moss, she was still looking for a way to plug the holes. She figured they would just find another route eventually, but she hoped that route wouldn’t include Artemis.
Josie, Martínez, and the mayor agreed to meet each week for a planning session in the mayor’s office. It was a concession of sorts for all involved. Josie knew communication had to improve, and they all needed to be working from the same set of plans. As with so many things, only time would tell.
Hack Bloster still hadn’t entered a plea. Sheriff Martínez thought Bloster would most likely take it to trial and attempt to lay most of the blame on Red. It was too early to tell what the commissioners planned to do with the sheriff, although community sentiment seemed to be siding with Martínez.
* * *
On Friday afternoon, Dillon called Josie at work and offered to grill steaks if she would start the charcoal. She agreed, and managed to leave work on time so that they were able to watch the sun set from her back patio. After a relaxing dinner, they settled into comfortable Adirondack chairs and eventually, inevitably, the conversation turned toward the violence on the border.
Josie said, “I keep thinking, why us? Why Artemis?”
Dillon stretched his long legs out in front of him and turned to Josie. “Quit looking at this as a personal issue. This isn’t about Artemis, or you or the community. It’s about evil people abusing the system.”
Josie felt a twinge of guilt. Dillon had discussed several versions of the question with her several times over the past two weeks, but until she could satisfactorily answer the question, she would find no peace.
“How do you not take it personally when two major drug cartels choose your town as their route into the U.S.?” she asked. “Why here?”
“They want an inroad. Why anywhere? Geographically, we make sense. Medrano tried and made some headway with Bloster and Red. They find the weakest l
ink, and they break through the fence.”
Josie bit her lip, her face flushing. “And Medrano approached me.”
Dillon reached over and ran a finger down her cheek. “And what happened when he approached you? How did that work out for him?” He watched her concede with a half smile.
After supper, Josie and Dillon followed the hound dog into the back pasture and up into the foothills. Chester took off on a scent and was soon a half mile ahead of them. The setting sun cast a red glow across the face of the mountain and softened its rough façade. Following the fence line toward the base of the mountain, Josie pointed up into the sky as a shadow passed over them. Two birds swirled overhead, checking for prey or predator below, before floating gracefully down to land on the wooden fence just ten feet to their right. Josie and Dillon both froze, afraid to move and disturb the birds. They were a pair of endangered aplomado falcons, who Dell had told her were nesting somewhere on the ranch.
The male, with a slate-colored back and creamy orange chest, turned its face toward them. Black stripes swept back from his eyes, the fierce warrior paint of one who had survived against great odds. Josie felt her heart beating hard in her chest, and reached for Dillon’s hand at her side.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE TERRITORY. Copyright © 2011 by Tricia Fields. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.thomasdunnebooks.com
www.minotaurbooks.com
e-ISBN 9781429983983
First Edition: November 2011
The Territory: A Novel Page 27
