“We’d like your permission to searchyour vehicle.”
“My vehicle? What are you looking for?”
Detective Thomas ran one hand through her dark cropped hair and lifted the envelope. “We do have a search warrant but we were hoping you’d cooperate without it.”
“It’s parked out back. Whatis this about?”
“Do you have the keys?” Thomas began to walk to the door so Scott followed, digging the keys from his pocket.
Heather and Harmon came up behind as they went down the few steps to the back lot that they’d finally cleaned up enough to park cars in. Thomas held out her hand for the keys. He held them up but didn’t release them yet.
“You still haven’t told me whatthis is about.”
Harmon pulled out some latex gloves and slipped them on. “We’re working on anassault case.”
“And my truck was identified in it?”
Neither one answered, but Harmon took the keys and unlocked the truck then began digging inside. Thomas climbed in the back.
“Scott?” Heather sidled closer, touching his arm.
He didn’t have any answers and it didn’t look like he was going to get any right now. Hopefully whoever had filed the charges had gotten the wrong vehicle. There were tons of black trucks in the area.
“Do you have a key to this toolbox?” Thomas asked, pointing to his industrial size container that was clamped onto the front of the bed.
“It’s on the key chain your partner has.”
“Walt, Ineed that key.”
Harmon tossed the key chain to her and she proceeded to open his toolbox then rummaged through his tools.
“What do my tools have to do with what you’re looking for? I assume it was a hit and run. Shouldn’t you be checking for dents in the fenders and stuff?”
Thomas slammed the toolbox shut and kicked at the tarp crumpled in the corner. Bending over, she looked closer at the material. What the heck was so interesting in there? He’d recently hauled some lumber in, so it couldn’t be much more than wood chips and sawdust.
Pulling a plastic bag from inside her coat, she used a corner of the tarp to pick something up. An adjustable wrench. How did that get there? He was meticulous about putting his tools back in the box. He couldn’t afford to keep buying new tools if the old ones gotwet and rusted.
“I’ve got something here, Walt.”
Thomas jumped out of the back of the truck bed as her partner climbed from the cab. She’d put the wrench in the bag.
“What is so interesting about my wrench? And what the hell is this all about? What assault are wetalking about?”
“There’s a bit of blood on this and a few hairs stuck in the screw.” Thomas’s eyes lit up and a smirksplit her face.
Blood? And hair? Moving closer he gazed at the evidence bag. A tiny bit of red dotted the metal surface, but the hair was a vivid shade of aqua. Aqua? He glanced down at his arm and the still noticeable scratches. Shit. Another fuck-up, but this one was moved to a whole different level.
“Heather,” he mumbled his eyes searching her concerned face. “Do you knowa good lawyer?”
Her hand clutched his arm tighter. “What’s going on, Scott?”
“I don’t know. But I’m beginning to get the feeling all these little inconveniences weren’t simplycoincidental.”
“Sir,” Harmon addressed him, “I think you should come down to the station with us. If you feel you need a lawyer, they can meet you there.”
“Am I being arrested? Because if so, I want to know what the charges are.”
“We merely need you for questioning right now, Mr. Holland. We can provide you with more information once we get to the station. It might be best if you rode with us. We’re parked out front. We’ll need to impoundyour vehicle.”
