between us, but I suspect a local sheriff’s deputy may have stolen Red’s guns and sold them to Medrano.”
Jimmy scowled. “You got yourself a regular mess.”
Josie kicked at the gravel. “It’s a lot of conjecture and not much to back it up. If you can make an arrest down here, it sure would help move things along. I just don’t have the manpower to make it happen.”
Jimmy nodded and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I heard your calls for help the other night when the Trauma Center got shot up. I was working a mess myself. We stopped a van with fifteen illegals, one of the ladies in childbirth, trying to hold the baby back until they reached their destination.” He shook his head at the memory. “I did everything I could to get you help that night.”
Josie nodded. She didn’t doubt it.
“Sanchez and I are working the watchtower tonight,” Dixon said.
“Officer Marta Cruz will be working with you. I’ll take the tower tomorrow night.”
“I’ll get the captain to commit to a week if I can. Then at least if you have trouble at the jail, we’ll be close at hand. If things get bad, you call me personally.”
* * *
On the way back to the department, Otto suggested they stop by Red’s place.
“There are a lot of people that don’t know those guns were stolen. I don’t like that young Winning girl out there all by herself. She’s a sitting duck, and she doesn’t seem concerned a bit about her safety.”
Josie nodded, did a U-turn on River Road, and turned her car toward Scratchgravel Road. She pulled onto Winning’s road and drove up the gravel lane to her trailer and stopped. “I’ll check in with her.”
Pegasus Winning answered the door dressed in shorts and an oversized man’s T-shirt from a Harley shop. “You just missed them,” she said, looking surprised to see Josie.
“Missed who?” Josie asked.
“There were three carloads of men nosing around Red’s place this afternoon. I saw a couple guys get out and check his door. They snooped around the garage, in front of his house.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Josie asked.
She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. It was the same body language she had used with Josie ever since she first showed up at the police department. “I didn’t know it was a requirement.”
“I’m not sure you realize the type of men you’ve got nosing around your place out here,” Josie said.
Winning picked at a piece of tape on her doorframe. “They shot my neighbor in the head, broke into my trailer, and laid his dead body on my couch. I get it.”
* * *
Josie and Otto took a complete description of the cars; then they drove down the lane to Red’s house. After a quick sweep, they found nothing out of place. “Maybe word’s out the guns are gone,” Otto said.
While Otto drove them back to the department, Josie caught up with cell phone messages and made routine follow-up calls. As they reached Artemis, she discovered Sheriff Martínez was at the courthouse, guarding a witness in court for the next week. She asked to meet him on the park bench outside for a few minutes.
Otto pulled in front of the police department, and as she reached for her door handle Otto said, “Hang on.” He cleared his throat and turned in his seat to face her. “You know I don’t like to give you advice.”
Josie smiled. “You just feel compelled.”
“Exactly. I just don’t think you take into account your personal well-being. Sometimes I don’t think you’re much better than that Winning lady.”
“Come on, Otto. Just give it to me.”
He smoothed his hand over his head to tame his flyaway hair. “You need to watch what you tell the sheriff. You don’t know that he and Bloster weren’t both in cahoots with Red and the Mexicans.”
She shrugged. “I’ve thought of that. I don’t believe it to be true, but your point is taken.”
“Our fine mayor would love to see you hang from a tall branch, and I’d hate to see this give him the opportunity.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Otto pointed over his shoulder to the sheriff, now walking across the grass in front of the courthouse toward the park bench. “If he and Bloster are cooking the books with the county, who’s to say he wouldn’t sell you down the river to deflect attention?”
“There’s nothing to sell—I haven’t done anything!”
Otto blew air out in frustration. “You aren’t listening to