I hung up and went back inside the RV, saying, “What’s up?”
Jennifer said, “The Ellingtons have a dash cam. We can see what they saw that night.”
I looked at Mosby and said, “No shit?”
He pointed at a tablet on the table and said, “Yeah. She’s already seen it, but I can show it again.”
Jennifer said, “The cops haven’t seen it.”
A little miffed at her comment, Mosby said, “I’d completely forgotten about it. It came with the rental of the RV and we never use it. Wasn’t till we got to our next stop a day later that I remembered.”
“Let’s see it again.”
He hit play, saying, “This is right before we got to the truck.”
I saw a dark road, the single paint strips in the middle flashing by under the headlights. I said, “No audio?”
“No.”
Liz said, “Thank heavens, because we were going at each other.”
I chuckled, and Liz said, “I was driving.” She leaned in and said, “Here they come.”
The frame showed a curve with lights advancing. The RV went around it and an explosion of headlights appeared, at least from three motorcycles. In the back was a van with one headlight working, looking exactly like a motorcycle right up until it almost collided with the front of the RV. The camera swerved all over the road for a split second, then steadied before slowing, the RV coming to a stop.
Mosby said, “We sat for a bit, collecting ourselves.”
I said, “I don’t blame you.”
He hit fast-forward until the vehicle was moving again. It went over a hill, and in the distance, I could see a glow. Liz said, “That’s the truck.”
Two minutes of driving later and I could make out the flames. The RV rolled past the burning truck and then stopped. Mosby said, “That’s all you can see. It just shows the road ahead for the rest of the tape. We were out doing what we told you about.”
I said, “Back it up to the bikers.”
He did so, and they came screaming past the RV in reverse. When the van appeared I said, “Freeze it.”
He punched the pause, and the RV’s headlights showed the front of the van, the driver’s side front quarter panel bashed in, the headlight dangling by a loose wire. Below it, in the harsh glow, I could see a license plate.
“Can you screenshot that? Send it to my cell phone?”
He said, “Yeah, of course. In fact, I’ll send it to that fella I met in Utah too. He told me to call if I remembered anything.”
I said, “Don’t bother with that. I’ll make sure he gets it. We’re working the same case.”
Jennifer scrunched her eyes at my comment, but said nothing. Five minutes later, I had the picture and we were saying our goodbyes. We left the Ellingtons to their remaining time in purgatory and I said, “Where’s the hotel?”
“Right here. We’re at the Circus Circus. I thought that would be convenient.”
I said, “No way. I’d rather sleep in the rental.”
She laughed and said, “The Bellagio. I can get MGM points.”
Of course.Jennifer had a travel point account with every hotel chain in existence.
I said, “Get that picture to Veep. Tell him I want all the information he can find on that van.”
She started working my phone and said, “Shouldn’t we be giving this to the Panguitch sheriff’s department? Let them have the same lead we do?”
