The Territory A Novel - By Tricia Fields Page 0,102

who won’t accuse a rapist because she thinks it’s her fault somehow! Bloster scammed the system. He scammed you, the commissioners, the mayor, the whole town for his own selfish gain.”

“If the sheriff can’t control his own department, how can he control the town? That’s the question people will ask.”

She lowered her voice. “You aren’t the criminal,” she said. “You’re trying to run a twenty-bed jail and the department on your own. You need help.”

He tipped his head to concede the point. “You’re in no better spot either. We can’t keep this pace up. We’re both undermanned by fifty percent.”

“We need a reserve force,” she said. “We need people on the border with guns to hold the line. At least for the next few months. We have good people in this town who can help us. We don’t need to do this alone.”

The phone on her desk buzzed and Martínez stood to leave. He waved and thanked her for listening and walked out of the office. Josie buzzed Lou back. She said Judge Lewis was on the line.

“Chief Gray?”

“Yes, Judge. Thank you for getting back with me so quickly this evening.”

“From everything I’ve heard, you people are doing an excellent job down there, considering what you’re up against. You’re fighting the good fight. Just keep that in mind.”

“Yes, sir. I appreciate that.”

Lewis had been a judge in Arroyo County for thirty years. He was a gray-haired, stooped man who pulled no punches with anyone. She appreciated his faith in her.

“Paul Fallow is trespassing on federal property. No need for a warrant from me. His belongings can be seized immediately.”

SEVENTEEN

Josie and Otto drove separately and met in the parking lot of the Loan to Own at 11 P.M. The business was located in a white cinder block building surrounded by a large paved parking lot and half a dozen trailers and storage units. Cammie Brown, the owner’s daughter, pulled into the lot after them, driving a bright blue Mustang and got out of the car wearing flannel pajama pants imprinted with big red hearts and a matching sweatshirt, her hair in a ponytail tied neatly with a white ribbon.

Josie shook Cammie’s hand and introduced Otto.

“Did you notice my lights? Everything is working perfect. And I just got my license plate renewed.” She flashed a bright smile and bounced into the store to retrieve the paperwork and the keys to the unit. She gave everything to Josie, who thanked her and said she could leave.

“Why don’t you let me go back out to the field and check the trailer out? That way you can talk with Fallow and we can be sure he won’t show up. Tell him we’re confiscating his belongings and see what he gives you. If I find the guns in the trailer, I’ll call you,” Josie said.

* * *

After leaving the rental store, Otto stopped by the police station and grabbed the policy manual for the Gunners. He pulled into Paul Fallow’s driveway at midnight. All the lights in the house were off. He rang the doorbell, hoping to wake Mrs. Fallow as well. Otto had not talked with her yet, and he was curious what she would say about her husband’s trailer rental. After ringing the doorbell a second time, he watched through the side window beside the front door as both Fallow and his wife walked down the stairway together wearing two-piece burgundy-colored pajamas. Mrs. Fallow was cinching a matching floor-length robe around her waist as Fallow looked through the window. He recognized Otto under the porch light, deprogrammed the alarm, and unlocked the door.

“What is it? What’s happened?” Fallow asked.

“Dr. Fallow, I apologize for waking you, but I have police business I need to discuss with you.”

“It can’t wait until morning?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not.”

He stepped back, his eyebrows knit together in worry, and introduced Otto to his wife, Karen. Otto nodded hello. Scowling, Mrs. Fallow wrapped her hands around her arms as if she were cold and walked into the formal living room. Otto followed her and sank into a puffy beige couch facing her. Otto leaned forward and set the Gunners’ binder on the glass coffee table.

“What’s this about?” Fallow asked.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that Hack Bloster was arrested.”

He nodded. Karen sneered.

“That puts you in a special place,” Otto said.

Fallow wrinkled his forehead, looking confused.

“With Red out of the picture, and Hack in jail, that means you take over the business.”

“I have no desire to take over the Gunners.” He glanced at his