protesting the high rates of cancer in the youth living in Arroyo County. A small group of citizens signed with a law firm who specialized in environmental disasters. As a result of the lawsuit the government hired a research company who finally revealed two years later that the rates of certain types of cancer were slightly elevated in and around Artemis. The court ruled against the citizen group in the first trial, citing insufficient evidence due to the small sampling size from the small number of people living in Artemis and Arroyo County. The group appealed and the case returned to court.
During the same time period, the Environmental Protection Agency came to town to survey and evaluate the Feed Plant and discovered abysmal conditions: hundreds of rusted barrels containing nuclear waste, cracked concrete silos filled with radioactive gasses, contaminated soil and water, equipment used in the production of uranium sitting unprotected and unmonitored. The EPA put the plant on a fast track for cleanup and a private company, Beacon Pathways, was hired for undisclosed millions to clean the plant up over a period of ten years. The media coverage died down after the citizens’ case was lost on appeal, and Beacon’s ten-year cleanup contract was extended an additional ten years. Other than occasional grumblings in the local paper about the abuse of taxpayer money, it was a one-time sensational issue that most residents preferred not to think about. For others, Beacon paid well during troubling economic times and those workers hoped the cleanup would be around for decades. Josie wondered if the extensions would ever end.
* * *
Josie pulled her jeep in front of the police department, anxious to tell Otto what she had discovered. She ran through the rain and into the building, forgoing her umbrella. The bell above the door dinged and Lou, who was pulling folders out of the filing cabinet, turned around, an irritable look on her face.
“Better tread lightly,” Lou said.
“What’s the problem?”
“You heard about Teresa?” Lou scowled and looked behind her as if scouting for spies. She loved gossip. Josie thought the world of Lou, but she had a mean streak a mile wide and she looked ready to use it.
Josie shook her head, and Lou motioned Josie back to her desk.
“That girl did it this time. Teresa took her savings account money and posted bail for Enrico Gomez!”
Josie looked confused. “I just saw him this morning.”
“Sheriff must have got him right after you left. Sheriff Martínez just got off the phone with Marta. He told her that Teresa was at the bail bondsman’s before the ink dried on the paperwork.”
“Damn that kid. What were the charges?”
“Possession. Couple grams of coke. Teresa paid standard bond fees and he was out within two hours.”
“Who arrested him?” Josie asked.
“Sheriff’s deputy. Pulled him over for speeding, driving toward Marfa. Deputy found the drugs in the glove compartment. Boy wasn’t even smart enough to throw it out the window.”
Josie sighed heavily. “How did Teresa find out about Enrico getting arrested?”
“Supposedly the jailer allowed him two phone calls. He placed two collect calls, one to his grandpa, who didn’t answer. Then he called Teresa.”
“How can a kid with so much potential be so hell-bent on destroying her life?”
“Teresa claims he was framed. He’s the love of her life and all that garbage. Marta’s ready to rip her kid’s eyes out over it.”
* * *
Josie shook her head and walked toward the stairs in the back of the office. Gossip, especially accurate gossip, was torture in a small town. Marta would be living in her own private circle of hell when word got out on the streets that her daughter had bailed out a drug dealer.
Josie saw Otto leaning against the office doorway when she reached the top of the stairs, his expression grim. “Lou filled you in, I have no doubt.”
Josie nodded.
Marta was sitting at her desk talking loudly into the phone.
“Who’s she talking to?” Josie asked.
“Wee Wetzel.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said.
Otto poured them both a cup of coffee, placed Josie’s on her desk, and carried his back to his chair. “Marta wants to know how a bail bondsman could let a minor bail out a convicted felon,” he said in a loud whisper. “Wetzel said Marta’s daughter paid cash, and she had picture identification. Nothing he could do about it. Marta is threatening to sue him and throw his butt in jail.”
“Where’s Teresa?” Josie asked.
Before Otto could answer, Marta slammed the phone down, stood from her