Q is for Quarry (Kinsey Millhone 17)

Ruel turned and stared. “You mean to take the car away?”

He looked from Dolan to the deputy in disbelief. “He can’t do that, can he?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But I hold title to that car and it’s registered in my name. He never said what he was up to or I’d’ve told him to get lost.”

Chilton said, “We understand that, Mr. McPhee, and I’m sure Lieutenant Dolan appreciates the inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience, my foot! That car’s been setting out there for the past eighteen years. If the cops thought it was so all-fired important, they should have taken it back then.”

Dolan said, “The information came in a week ago. That’s the first we’d heard of it, or we’d have done just that.”

“This’s private property. The car belongs to me. You can’t sashay in here and walk off with what’s mine.” He turned to the deputy. “I want him out of here.”

Chilton said, “I can’t help you with that. He has the right to take it.”

“Then you clear off, too! What good’s that gall-dang badge of yours if you can’t protect us any better than this?”

Chilton’s manner was beginning to shift. Where at first his tone had been conciliatory, now it was turning flat. “Excuse me, sir, but that car’s considered evidence in a criminal investigation. You don’t have a choice. Techs don’t find anything, you get the vehicle back and there’s no harm done.”

“I’m calling my lawyer.”

Lieutenant Dolan said, “Mr. McPhee, we have a legitimate search warrant. You can call anyone you want, but it won’t change what’s happening. No disrespect intended, but you might as well save your breath.”

“I’m entitled to one call.”

“That’s only if they put you in jail,” Chilton said, exasperated. “No one’s proposing to arrest you. It’s the car he wants. He’s talking about a homicide. You interfere here and you’re only making trouble for yourself. None of us want that.”

Cornell said, “Let it go, Dad. Come on. They’re going to do it anyway.”

Ruel gave way suddenly. He took his hat off and slapped his thigh with it. “People been telling me we live in a police state, but I never thought I’d see the day. It’s a damn shame when a law-abiding citizen gets treated like dirt.”

He walked away from the group. Cornell glanced back with a dark look and then followed his father to the house.

We heard a quick horn toot at the street and saw the local towing company with a flatbed truck idling at the curb. Chilton whistled to catch the driver’s eye and then gestured him in our direction with a series of arm rolls. The driver shifted gears, pulling the truck forward. He then backed into the driveway and eased up the long dirt lane toward the garage where we were standing.

Dolan and I acted as sideline supervisers while the chain was attached to the Mustang’s front axle and the car was winched up the ramp. Cornell’s truck was gone by then and there was no sign of Ruel. Once the Mustang was loaded, we tagged after the moving tow truck as far as the street. The driver waited while we got in Dolan’s car. We followed him, keeping the Mustang in view.

I said, “By the way, you talked to Stace? What’s he heard about his biopsy and X-rays? They must know something by now.”

Dolan looked at me blankly. “Completely slipped my mind. He wanted to come down here and I was so busy trying to talk him out of it I forgot to ask.”

“He’s joining us?”

“Not if I can help it. I’d rather have him up there where he can do some good.”

At the impound lot, we waited while the Mustang was unloaded and the rolling gate was locked. Dolan took care of all the paperwork and then he returned to the car. We headed for the motel. He was whistling idly to himself, tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel.

“You seem chipper.”

“I am. I got a good feeling about this.”

“How long until the forensics guys can get back to us?”

“Soon, I hope. Things are quiet at the moment, so Mandel said he’d ask them to get right on it.”

“And in the meantime, what?”

“Nothing. If they can connect our victim to the Mustang, we’ll use her dental chart to canvas the local dentists. Teeth that bad, someone might remember her.”

“Can’t we do that while we wait? I hate sitting around. We know someone stole the car and drove it up to Lompoc. C. K. spotted it near the quarry . . .”