Benny’s gaze flicked down to his clipboard. “Let me check. I got two cars in from Sandpiper Shores yesterday.” He looked up at Holt, whose brows shot up.
“Two cars?” Holt asked, suspiciously.
Benny nodded. “Yeah.”
“What time did they come in?” Holts’ eyes narrowed curiously.
“One in the morning and one yesterday evening,” Benny answered. “Can you describe the car you’re looking for? Do you know who owned it, maybe?”
Holt kept his tone neutral. “I believe it was owned by Clive Morrison and is a dark sedan,” Holt said. “It would have had front-end collision damage.”
“Yeah, I know the car.” Benny looked at his clipboard and tapped it with a pen.
“Where is it?” Holt asked the man, growing impatient at Benny's apparent dragging of his feet, when the man probably knew full well that if an FBI agent was asking about the car, they needed information on it.
“That one is already crushed,” Benny said. “It was done as a priority first thing this morning.”
Holt stiffened as the implications of this car’s accident just got darker and darker. “Crushed?” Holt repeated.
Benny nodded once. “First thing this morning,” Benny repeated.
Holt’s jaw tightened. “That vehicle was delivered last night,” Holt said, glancing at all the other vehicles lined up waiting to be crushed. “Is it normal that it would’ve been crushed right away?”
Benny shrugged, “It was a rush job,” Benny said, glancing at his clipboard once again. “The client paid extra to have it crushed as a priority first thing this morning. They actually wanted it done when it arrived late yesterday afternoon, but we couldn’t do it.”
Holt held his gaze. “Could I see the intake paperwork?” Holt demanded. “I’d like to know who ordered it to be crushed immediately as this car is part of an ongoing investigation.” It wasn’t an actual lie. They were investigating Lacey’s accident, and any car that had that sort of front-end damage that Clive’s car had would’ve been scrutinized.
Benny’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you have a warrant?” he asked.
Holt answered honestly. “Not at this moment,” he told Benny. “But you can cooperate voluntarily.”
Benny shook his head. “No,” he declined to cooperate. “I don’t hand paperwork out without a warrant. That is our policy.”
Holt held his gaze, letting a short silence sit between them. Holt didn’t need to threaten. He needed Benny to feel the weight of refusing.
June stepped forward, her eyes pinning Benny. “If there’s an active inquiry, and you’re subpoenaed, you don’t want it to look like you resisted reasonable cooperation.” She glanced pointedly around the yard. “You look like you do a lot of work for different towns around here.”
“I do,” Benny acknowledged.
“I’m sure a lot of these cars are, shall we say…” June let the words drop off and raised an eyebrow. “Not cars you want the FEDS climbing all over.”
“I run a legitimate business,” Benny huffed and straightened his shoulders.
“I’m sure you do,” June told him. “I’m sure, too, that you want to keep that stellar reputation. What would it look like if you were seen to not be cooperating with us?”
Benny looked at June for a while. “Look, I want to cooperate. But I can’t give you clients’ information without the warrant.”
Holt saw Benny’s answers as an apology and believed he was really just upholding the company’s policy.
Holt breathed out slowly.
“All right,” Holt said. “Can you at least show us the vehicle?”
Benny blinked. “Sure.” He nodded. “But I don’t know what use it’s going to be as it’s scrap now.”
“I still need to see it.” Holt nodded.
Benny turned toward Dale and held out his clipboard. “Dale, can you take this and put it in the office?”
