by Sheri Richey
Georgia looked at Conrad and rolled her eyes. “Chief, it comes up not found. That’s all I can tell you. I tried it twice.”
“And I suppose you couldn’t have made a mistake?” Conrad said lifting his eyebrows at Roy.
“No. I was looking right at it and read it to her twice.”
“Maybe it was altered,” Conrad said. “Were you standing up on it or looking from your car?”
“I was in the car, but I was parked, not driving by.” Roy calmed and appeared to be giving the thought consideration. “I was about fifteen feet away. It might have been taped or painted. I was too far away to see the impression.”
“Well, where is the car now?” Conrad knew the answer. It was gone. Roy got so caught up in arguing with Georgia that he lost sight of what mattered. It wasn’t the first time. He could be a little hot-headed.
“It’s a truck. It was parked on Fennel Street. I can go take a drive back and see if it’s still there.”
“You do that.” Conrad turned on his heels to head back to his office. Sometimes they all acted like children.
“Chief,” Georgia said before he reached his office and Conrad turned back. “The Sheriff called while you were out. Said it wasn’t urgent, but he’d like to talk to you when you got back.”
“Okay, thanks Georgie. I’ll give him a call.”
Conrad shut his office door and headed for the coffee machine. He needed to relax before he made that call. Everyone said coffee was a stimulant, but for Conrad, it brought him peace. He filled it with water and sat down waiting for the gurgling sound to begin. Mixing his creamer and breathing deeply, he made the dreaded call.
“Hello, Sheriff. They tell me you called earlier?”
“Hey, Connie. I just wanted to bring you up to speed and get your help on something.”
The second part of that sentence was the real reason for the contact. Bobby Bell was sharing only to trade. “Sure. What can I do for you?”
“Well, the fireworks still haven’t been recovered, but that flatbed you found off Eagle Bay Road, it was the bed they were on. Somebody took them and ditched the trailer.”
Conrad grunted acknowledgment. He would have preferred to hear they were still on the trailer and ruined by water. This meant someone still had possession, but he was surprised Bobby acknowledged that he found the trailer. He expected the young officer would tell him of their talk, but also for Bobby to take credit. He knew better than to let down his guard and think Bobby had evolved into a decent trustworthy person. He was probably being set up for something.
“We don’t know anything more than the white truck sighting I told you about before, but I wanted you to know they are still missing in case you run across something or hear something,” Sheriff Bell chuckled. “It’s a big wide load so if they catch a flame, it’s going to sound like World War III. It’s not the kind of stuff people shoot off in the backyard, you know.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“So, let me know—Let your guys know. They may have been carted off and sold elsewhere, but I’d hate someone to get hurt not knowing what they were messing with.”
“Yes, you’re right. That could be dangerous. I appreciate the heads-up.” Conrad ended the call. He would relay this to Wink when he arrived later this afternoon. Conrad couldn’t help thinking about Saucy’s truck sitting outside the garage instead of secured away. Saucy had always put his truck up at night. Something was in his garage and Conrad hoped it wasn’t fireworks.
Conrad rose from his desk and opened his office door. He hated being closed in and only did it when he needed privacy. When he opened the door, he could hear Georgia talking to another officer about Roy and went back out to dispatch to find out about the bad plates.
“Did you hear back from Roy?”
“Yes, but the truck’s gone,” Georgia said shaking her head in disappointment. “You know if he didn’t think he was always right about everything—” Georgia’s complaint was cut short by Roy’s voice on the radio advising he was returning to the station.
“I know,” Conrad said nodding and waving the notion away in hopes of placating Georgia before she continued her rant. “You said it was a truck?”
“Yeah, a white Dodge Ram, all beat up, he thinks about a ‘98,” Georgia said before she turned to answer an incoming phone call.
“Have Roy come see me when he comes in,” Conrad told the others in the room as he walked back to his office. He needed to know why Roy was running these plates.
Chapter Ten
“Oh, Mandy,” Cora said breathing deeply as she walked out of her office and into Amanda’s. “That smells lovely. I could get used to this.” Amanda’s face beamed.
“I’d hoped you would like it because I have lots of these at home. We could try a different scent every day or combine some that you like. I enjoy it, too. It’s relaxing.”
“I’m going to leave my door open so it comes in here more.”
“I can move the machine in there for you,” Amanda offered as she rose from her seat.
“Oh no, dear. That’s okay. I could smell it even with my door shut. This is a good place for both of us and maybe it can reach the lobby a bit from here, too.” Cora turned to go back through her open door and then paused. “You asked about seeing Bryan earlier? Did you talk to him at lunch?”
“No, I just thought I saw him drive by as I was walking to the Caraway. It looked like he walked out of Ivy’s Oils and then drove down the street. I thought maybe you were in there then.”
“Oh, I see. I guess you haven’t heard from him?” Amanda shook her head no. “It’s early yet and I don’t think he’ll be in the office until next Friday, unless something comes up before then.” Cora saw Amanda’s eyes dart toward the door to the lobby as she kept an eye on who came and went regularly. “You’ll probably hear from him soon,” Cora added in solace.
“I don’t know,” Amanda said pensively. “Maybe he’s dating the lady that runs Ivy’s. I can’t imagine what business he would have in there otherwise. He might date around town and I just didn’t realize it. I don’t know Denise Ivy, but I guess she’s single and about his age.”
“Well, maybe, but I don’t really see that,” Cora said frowning. “Bryan doesn’t seem like that type.” Cora wasn’t sure what type that was, but from what she’d recently seen, he seemed too shy and quiet to be a player. Perhaps Amanda was just trying to paint Bryan in an undesirable light to lessen the disappointment if he never called.
“I’ll see what I can find out about it though.” Cora ambled back into her office. If Bryan was that type of young man, the women of Spicetown would know and they would talk.
“Oh, Amanda, would you please check with your mom and see if she can put me down in her crowded book? I could use a touch-up.” Cora winked and patted the back of her head to lighten the mood.
Amanda’s mother, Louise Morgan, ran the local beauty shop and Cora had her hair done there every month. She had a coppery ginger color, and the roots had to be touched up every three to four weeks. She joked about it openly as her hair would be snow white otherwise, but she always used color to match as closely as she could to the color of her youth. It was the color of her hair that Bing always said made her stand out like a shiny penny and she wasn’t going to let age take that away.
“Will do,” Amanda said cheerfully, clearly forgetting the gloom of Bryan.
§
Conrad looked up when he heard boots shuffling towards his office door and saw Roy standing on the threshold. “You wanted to see me, Chief?” Roy had lost his bravado and seemed mildly sheepish as Conrad motioned him in the door.
“Have a seat,” Conrad said as he stood to freshen his coffee. “Tell me about this truck you saw today, the white one.”
“Oh, yeah it was just a beat up older Dodge Ram parked near the Fennel Street Bakery, but the guy getting out of it was a squirrelly looking little dude I’ve never seen before. I was just running the plates to see if he was from around t
hese parts.”
“So, he didn’t commit any offense, driving or otherwise,” Conrad mused but Roy sat up straighter prepared to defend his actions. Conrad saw by his demeanor that he thought his judgment was in question. “Nothing wrong with checking, but tell me, what did he look like?”
Roy dropped into a chair across from Conrad’s desk and his posture relaxed. “Well, he was just a creepy little guy. Probably didn’t weigh more than 140, about 5’5, black stringy hair and dressed all in black. It wasn’t just his clothes though,” Roy said, struggling to describe the vibe he felt upon seeing the driver. “He just seemed like he was up to no good. You know what I mean? He just--”
“I think I saw him, too,” Conrad said. “He did have an unscrupulous look about him. I wondered who he was. I was eating in the Caraway Cafe and saw him walk by. I didn’t see the truck though.”
“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t get the plate. I just never thought it was doctored up. I was hoping to find out where he came from and who he was,” Roy said dropping his chin down towards his chest to avoid Conrad’s gaze as he returned to his desk with fresh coffee.
“I guess Wink told you about the fireworks on New Year’s?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t working, but he told me the next day.”
“They don’t have much to go on, but they had one witness mention a white truck. No other details, but of course, it was dark and just driving by, but they are hoping we will keep our eyes peeled.”
“Oh, sure thing, Chief,” Roy grunted as he scooted forward to rise from the chair. Roy was a big man and carried most of it in his gut. “If I see it again, I’ll get a better look at those plates for you.”
“Thanks, Roy,” Conrad said to his back as he walked to the door. “Oh, and Roy?” Roy stopped in the doorway and turned back. “Go easy on Georgie, will you?”
“Oh, sure, sure,” Roy held up his hand to show he meant no harm and because he couldn’t really defend his actions otherwise.
“What was the tag you ran?” Conrad asked as Roy started to go around the corner of the door.
“Oh, I thought it was Papa-Oscar-Yankee-5718.” Conrad just nodded and waved him on. He had an idea. It might be a long shot, but he wanted to look at that tag number a bit and see what he could make of it.
Conrad began running plates with changes he thought could be done easily. If white tape was used, that plate could have read a B instead of a P, so he checked on that number. The 7 could have been a Z or the 8 a 3, so he tried all of those combinations singly and together. After exhausting all possibilities that he could imagine, he switched to the opposite tactic. If black tape was used, the O could have been a C and the 8” could have been a 6. If the guy had been really industrious, he could have used both.
When he looked up to find Wink in his doorway and the sun beginning to set, he knew he had been playing with combinations a lot longer than he thought.
“Hey, boss.” Wink put his hand on the back of the chair facing Conrad’s desk. “You busy?”
“No, have a seat. I need to talk to you,” Conrad pushed the laptop screen away and rubbed his eyes. “I talked to the sheriff today.”
“Yeah? What did he have to say?”
“Well, turns out that the trailer in the lake was the right one, but the goods were gone.” Conrad held his hands out with his palms up to show defeat. “It would have been so nice if they had pulled out wet ruined crates of fireworks when the trailer was pulled out of the lake.”
“So, do they have anything more? You found the trailer. What have their fancy detectives found?”
“He didn’t have anything to add. They are still looking for a white truck. They don’t have anything that he shared.”
“There are a million white trucks and driving down Eagle Bay, doesn’t mean much.” Wink rolled his eyes.
“I know, but assuming the white truck angle might be something. There was one in town today that wasn’t a Spicetown regular. I think I’ve narrowed it down and if so, it’s a less than desirable visitor. Do you know a Shawn Ellis from Paxton?”
“No,” Wink said shaking his head. “He was in town today?”
“Yes, I saw a stranger walking on Fennel Street and watched him go into Ivy’s Oils & Organics. He was there a while, and I checked on Denise after, but she didn’t mention him. Later, Roy tried to run plates on a white truck that I think is the same guy and the run failed, so I’ve been playing with numbers to see if I could figure it out.”
“Roy screw up the number?” Wink wrinkled his brow.
“I don’t think so.” Conrad leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. “I think the tags were doctored. They don’t come back at all.”
“So, is the truck stolen?”
“No. Roy gave Georgie Papa-Oscar-Yankee 5718, and it doesn’t come back. But Papa-Charlie-Yankee 5716 hits on Shawn Ellis from Paxton with a white truck and the photo looks like the guy I saw. I’m waiting for Roy to come in and see if it’s the same guy he saw. Maybe it’s nothing,” Conrad said shrugging.
“You don’t tamper with tags for no reason,” Wink mused.
“True, but the guy has a sheet, so it could be anything.”
“Has he done time?” Wink asked.
“Three years for felony theft and a bunch of smaller stuff. He’s been out a couple of years though.” Conrad shrugged. He didn’t really know what to do with this information other than be suspicious of the guy in general. Ellis hadn’t done anything that he could see, other than tamper with his vehicle tag. Even if he was bad news, nothing tied him to the fireworks except a white truck, which was nothing.
“Fireworks or not, we don’t want him in Spicetown,” Wink barked out. Conrad smiled because that was it in a nutshell. “I’ll keep an eye out though. Nothing else, we’ll get him for messing with the tags.” Wink smirked and pushed the chair back just as the side door opened and Roy came down the hall.
“Hey, Roy,” Conrad yelled as he walked by. “Come look at this picture.”
Roy walked around the side of the desk as Conrad shifted the laptop. “Yep, that’s him. He looks like a weasel. How did you find him?”
“I saw him earlier, too, and I played around with the tags. He’s altered them a little. Pull him if you see him again though. Get him on the tags,” Conrad said as Roy nodded.
“He best stay out of Spicetown,” Roy huffed as he pulled up his waistband partially over his stomach. The belt always slipped down under and disappeared.
“I’ll send out his sheet to everybody. If he comes back to town, we’ll fix those plates for him,” Wink assured Conrad as he and Roy walked out of Conrad’s office.
Chapter Eleven
Amanda tapped on the mayor’s door lightly as it was already ajar. “Mayor?”
“Yes. Come in, Mandy. I know you’re going to tell me I need to get out of here and you’re right,” Cora said straightening things on her desk and putting her laptop to sleep. “I’m going to be late.”
Amanda nodded her head forcefully which made her shoulder length ash blonde hair swing as she went back to her desk. Relieved Cora was on her way out, she looked up when she came bustling through the doorway. “Don’t worry. Mom won’t turn you away if you’re late.” Amanda smiled. She’d told Cora her hair appointment was fifteen minutes earlier than it was because she knew getting Cora out the door in the middle of the afternoon was difficult.
“I need some exercise anyway. I’ll just run.” Cora winked at Amanda as she scurried down the back hall to get her coat. Amanda smiled and rolled her eyes once Cora was out of her sight.
Cora did try to walk deliberately down the sidewalk which was her version of running and limited her looking around. She was usually a casual stroller because she wanted to see everything and everybody around her, but there was no time for that today. Once she made the corner on Clove Street, she almost bumped into Harvey Salzman turning onto Clove Street from the alley.
“Afternoon, Mayor,” Saucy said, nodding his head in greeting. “
In a hurry?”
“Oh dear, yes,” Cora said smiling, pleased that her purposeful stride was apparent. “I have an appointment and I’m late.”
“Okay. I won’t delay you. You have a good day,” Saucy said as he smiled back as he passed.
“Thank you. You, too.” Cora waved without any hesitation in her step.
She reached the door to Louise Morgan’s beauty shop and took a deep breath before turning the knob. She steadied herself a moment to disguise her breathlessness.
Louise had run this beauty shop all her life. She didn’t care for fancy names or spices and wasn’t going to join in the naming game that all the other businesses in town played. It was Louise’s Beauty Salon, and that’s all it had ever been. She survived a block off the main street by maintaining long-time customers and having the best prom up-do in town.
Cora had been going there since she first started teaching school. Louise had been the first and only one to cover her gray and help her keep her girlish copper color intact. There were many other women in town that had gone to Louise for decades, too, and they brought in their daughters and grandchildren. The place was always packed despite the fly-by-night quick-cut shops that popped up to compete with her.
The bell jingled over Cora’s head as she walked into the warmth of the shop. The chemical smells of permanent solutions and heated irons wafted over her. She was ready for some pampering.
All the ladies welcomed her as she removed her coat, tugged on her skirt that had ridden up during her boisterous walk and glanced around the room. Some with rollers in their hair, some in chairs with wet heads and others with plastic bags or foil wrapped around their hair. They were all chattering loudly to be heard over the dryers with towels clipped over their shoulders.
“Hello, everyone.” Cora waved and found a chair to sit down. It was busier than usual so she hoped her late arrival wouldn’t have been noticed at all.