Hothouse Orchid (Holly Barker 6)

“Jimmy Weathers found a cut on the right front tire of Bruno’s car. He described it, and it sounds identical to the one we’ve got the cast of.”

“That’s great news,” Hurd said, picking up the phone and buzzing his secretary, Shirley Medved. “Shirley, call Judge Landry and get me an immediate appointment. Tell him it’s for a search warrant in an important case.” He hung up. “Here’s how we handle this,” he said to Lauren. “We tow the car to a garage of our choice, and we go over the whole thing with a fine-toothed comb. The DA is going to want more than the tire cut to ask for an indictment.”

“Maybe we’ll find the panties in the car,” Lauren said.

“DNA from the panties would guarantee a conviction,” Hurd said, “though I’m not going to get my hopes up about that. Bruno is too smart to keep something like that in his car; if he has them, he’ll have thought of a better hiding place.”

The phone rang, and Hurd picked it up. “Yes? Thank you, Shirley.” He hung up. “We can’t see the judge until four o’clock this afternoon. He’s in court nonstop until then.”

“Oh, God,” Lauren said. “I’ll be on pins and needles until then.”

Lauren sat in her car outside the courthouse and waited impatiently for Hurd’s return. She felt an excitement she had never felt before; her stomach churned, and her knees were weak. She looked up to see Hurd coming down the courthouse steps.

Hurd got into the car and held up a warrant. “Got it,” he said and gave her a rare smile. He got out his cell phone and punched in a number. “Fred? It’s Hurd Wallace; I need an immediate tow, a flatbedder. Right, meet me at the Or

chid Beach police station parking lot as soon as you can get there. We’ll be going back to your garage.” He hung up. “Let’s go.”

Lauren drove quickly to the police station, resisting the temptation to use her lights and siren. She pulled into the parking lot. Bruno’s cruiser was in his labeled parking space. “There it is,” she said. “And here comes the tow truck.”

“You want to serve the warrant?” Hurd asked.

“No, I’m too nervous; you do it, please.”

Hurd got out of the car and walked into the police station through the back door. He was gone for no more than a minute, then he returned. Jim Bruno came out the back door and stood at the top of the steps, watching.

“Fred, there’s the car,” Hurd said. “The keys are in it.”

“You want to drive it, then?” Fred asked.

“No, I don’t want to take any chances.”

Hurd and Lauren watched Fred go through the motions with practiced ease. In five minutes, he had the car on his flatbed.

Lauren and Hurd got back into the car and followed the tow truck. Hurd got on the phone and reached the unit criminalist and gave him directions to the garage.

“How did Bruno react?” Lauren asked.

“With astonishment,” Hurd replied. “I mean, he really looked amazed. He demanded to know the reason for the warrant, and I refused to tell him. I told him the car was material to an investigation that’s under way.”

“Now I wish I had served it,” Lauren said.

“It’s better that I did it,” Hurd replied. “We don’t want him to try and make a case for harassment because of your past dealings with him.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Lauren said.

The tow truck pulled into the garage. Fred unloaded it and drove it into an empty bay, then raised the hoist.

“Lift it so that the tires are at eye level,” Hurd said to him.

The hoist stopped, and Hurd and Lauren walked to the right front tire. Hurd spun the wheel slowly. “I don’t see a cut,” he said.

“I thought Jimmy said it was the right front,” Lauren replied. “You check the right rear, and I’ll check the other side.” She inspected both tires and found no cuts. Then she walked back to where Hurd was standing. “No cuts on the other side. I don’t understand.”

“Lower the car, Fred,” Hurd said to the garage owner, who was standing by watching. He lowered the car. “Pop the trunk, Lauren. Let’s look at the spare.”

Lauren put on latex gloves, opened the driver’s door and pressed the trunk lid release, then went to the rear of the car. Hurd was unscrewing the wing nut that held the spare in place. In a moment, he had the tire out, and they inspected the tread.

“I don’t get it,” Hurd said. “There’s no tire cut anywhere.”