Reid hung in the background as Russ displayed his credentials through bulletproof glass. “You towed a pickup from PJ’s Sports Bar this morning.”
The attendant set down his burrito and took a long swig on a straw in a takeout glass. “I did.”
“We’d like to see it,” Russ said.
The guy arched a bushy eyebrow but didn’t move or speak.
Russ drew in a breath. “We have reason to believe it was used in a serious crime, and the owner could come looking for it.”
“Warrant man. Need a warrant.” He picked up his burrito again.
Russ’s jaw muscles jumped. “I assume if a dangerous criminal shows up on your doorstep, you’ll want police protection. Or not. You cooperate and we cooperate. That’s how it’s done, and it’s your choice.”
“Fine. Follow me.” The beefy man took a last bite of his burrito. Cheese oozing down his chin, he pushed off his stool and lumbered out the door.
Russ gave a heavy sigh as he and Reid followed the guy, winding their way past vehicles of all sizes and colors to a white pickup. The plate number matched Fowler’s registration.
A jolt of adrenaline at the potential lead hit Reid, but he kept his mouth shut and let his brother take lead as this guy seemed to think that despite Russ being the sheriff in another county, he had jurisdiction here. Could be because Russ never mentioned the county he oversaw, but whatever the reason, Reid was thankful the guy had cooperated.
“You been inside this vehicle?” Russ demanded.
The guy lifted his hands. “Haven’t touched the thing other than to haul it in and park it.”
Russ planted his feet as if he expected a fight. “We’ll be taking charge of the truck now. You can return to your office, and we’ll let you know what’s going on when our plans are finalized.”
“Fine by me. As long as I get my money.” He spun and took his time moving across the lot.
Reid dug out his phone. “I’ll call Trent. See if we can get Landon over here to process the truck.”
“Agreed.”
Reid made the call and explained his need to Trent.
“Text me the address, and I’ll send Landon your way,” Trent said.
Reid ended the call and fired off a text with the towing company’s address. “We need to get the chief to approve an expansion of Veritas’s duties to include this vehicle.”
“Not a problem. I can convince him of that.”
“You call him. I’ll go to the gate and wait for Landon to make sure the owner lets him in.”
Russ got out his phone, and Reid took a quick walk around the vehicle. Why, he didn’t know. Maybe he hoped to see something that would instantly tell him where to find Fowler. All he discovered was a dirty truck with food wrappers and empty drinks littering the cab. The mess reminded him of Ryan’s pickup. Reid sure would like to have Ryan helping out more, but didn’t want to pull him away from the first month of his son’s life more than was absolutely necessary.
Reid headed for the front of the property and arrived when Landon was pulling in. In the office, Reid arranged to have Landon let through. He hadn’t noticed the smell of body odor on the first visit, likely because the burrito was covering it up, but now the odor permeated the space.
“I’m gonna get my money, right?” The owner lifted an eyebrow and held his hand over the switch that would open the door for Landon.
“I’ll be sure the people in charge are aware of your outstanding fee,” Reid said, but it was the least of his concerns right now.
The owner seemed satisfied and tapped the switch.
The door swung open, and Landon entered the building. He’d shed his Tyvek suit and wore tactical pants and a polo shirt with the Veritas logo on his chest. He carried a field kit and wore a serious expression as he approached Reid.
The minute they were alone, he asked, “What do we have?
“A Ford F150. Maybe ten years old or more. Not sure. Vehicles aren’t my thing.”
“The year is going to be a big deal.” Excitement rode on Landon’s words. “We need to hope for a touchscreen and some sort of infotainment system to glean the most data from the vehicle.”
