Viv perked up at the thought of interviewing Bandit victims. “We’ll go back to some of the call-in leads if none of these pan out.”
Bobby Sloan was already at the dry cleaners.
“Oh look,” he said, with obvious dissatisfaction. “It’s the detectives.” He put his fingers up to make air quotes.
“You know who else does that all the time?” I said, squinting. “Dale. Remember Dale? You know, I knew when I met him that he reminded me of somebody. I guess it was you.”
“Yeah,” Viv said. “They both know everything. They do have that in common.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “The knowing everything and the air quotes.”
“What happened to that guy, anyway?” Bobby asked. “How come he’s not hanging around with you two anymore?”
Viv and I looked at each other. Uh-oh.
“You’re the one who knows everything. You tell us,” Viv said, because she’s a lot better at thinking on her feet than I am.
“I know you better hope you don’t pass a street cop,” Bobby said, with a nod toward my windshield. “Your inspection sticker is about half a year past due.”
I gasped and whirled around. He was right!
“Crap!” I said. I turned back to Bobby. “How much is that fine?”
He shrugged. “Couple hundred bucks, last I remember.” He grinned. “I’m sure there’s a beat cop nearby. They’re patrolling this area pretty hard these days. I can call one over and ask.”
“No, no, that’s okay.”
“Salem, maybe you ought to concentrate on taking care of your own business and leaving the police work to the police.”
“Yeah, ‘cause they’re doing such a bang-up job,” Viv said.
“Umm, Viv.” I put a hand on her arm. “Let’s not antagonize him.” I had no idea if he really would call a cop, but I didn’t want to find out.
I pulled out my phone. “Windy, where’s the nearest place to get an inspection sticker?”
Windy’s little windstreams waved a few seconds, then she said, “Okay, honey, it looks there’s one just right over yonder, about fifty yards to the west. Estacado Auto Repair. And if that doesn’t work, there’s another place a few blocks further north, and another one back toward town.”
Bobby was staring at my phone. “What the heck?”
“I know,” I said. “I won it. It’s 100 percent local.”
“She sounds like my aunt,” he said.
“I know, right?” I turned and gave him my best I’m-sorry-officer smile. “I seriously didn’t realize about the inspection sticker.”
“I gathered that from the way you freaked out when I told you. You need to get that taken care of.”
“I swear I will. As soon as we interview this guy, I’ll drive it straight over to Estocado Auto Repair and get it inspected. I promise.” I held up my hand in what I could only hope approximated a Girl Scout salute. “It’s just right over yonder.”
“See that you do.” He gave me and Viv and nod, then moved toward his car.
“That’s it?” Viv said, not bothering to hide her disappointment. “You’re not even going to warn us about staying out of danger? About steering clear of the criminal element?”
I didn’t want to admit it, but it was kind of anticlimactic to see Bobby and not blow off some of his dire warnings.
“Not at all.” He grinned broadly and opened his arms wide. “Conduct all the interviews you want. Knock yourself out.”
“Aren’t you even a little bit concerned for our safety?”
“Not really. These guys? They aren’t actually hurting anybody, not physically anyway. So far they haven’t shown a single weapon. We only have their word for it that they even have weapons.”
“What about the lecture about staying out of your way? Columbo gets that one at least once an episode.”
“You’re not in my way,” Bobby said, still looking altogether too blase about the whole thing. “At least, not any more than anybody else is. Clete Pigg has his own citizens task force watching the police, for the love of Pete, so they can make sure we’re actually doing our jobs. For once, you two aren’t the biggest pains in my butt. Like I said, have at it. Get what you can out of the guy. Maybe it’ll help.”
He didn’t look very hopeful, though.
I followed Viv into the dry cleaners, my lips clamped. Crap crap crap. Would that car even pass inspection? Yes, it drove like a dream, but there was no telling what impending doom a close look would turn up.
A tall, thin kid of about fifteen stood behind the counter. He looked like the kind of kid who would be handsome, once he grew into his nose. “Can I help you,” he said, not like a question, but like one who had been instructed to say the words.
“We are investigating the recent robberies in this area,” Viv said.
The kid’s bland expression slid to me, as if to ask, “Seriously?”
I shrugged.
“We understand this establishment has been targeted by the robbers. Is that correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Were you here at the time?”
His chin lifted, indicating upward. “Upstairs.”
“Who was here?”
“My dad. He was the only one in the front. My mom was in the back, but by the time she got up here, they were gone.”
“Where’s your dad now? Is he here?”
“Next door.”
I stepped back and looked at what was next door. A donut shop?! I had been so busy dealing with Bobby and the horrifying out-of-date inspection sticker that I had not noticed there were donuts nearby.
“He’ll be right back. He just went to make sure the ovens were off.”
“You guys own that, too?”
“Yep.” His mouth went flat and his eyes bulged a bit, like, Yep, the American Freaking Dream, right here.
A few minutes later a man came in, just as thin as his son, a bit stooped, but with the same formidable nose.
Viv explained to him what we were doing.
He eyed me and Stump. I shifted her a bit and tightened my arms around her, indicating that I had no intention of putting her down to run loose on his fifty-year-old linoleum.
“I just talked to the cops,” he said, with a nod toward the door.
“Detective Sloan?” Viv asked. “Yeah, he’s a buddy of ours, actually. You know, the police department and private eyes like us, we work together a lot more that people think. We have to, you know.” She laughed. “I mean, it takes a village, right?”
“No, the Bandits are taking the village. So hopefully one of you can figure out who this is and get them locked up where they belong.”
“Absolutely. So now. Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
“Exactly? Well, they exactly ran in here, almost knocked the door off the hinges, yelling like banshees, and shouted for me to give them everything in the register. So I did. Then they left.”
“You say they. How many were there?”
“Four,” he said with a little side-eye of his own. Everyone knew there were four.
“You’re sure there were four?” Viv asked.
He waited a beat. “Quite sure, yes.” I can count to four, his eyes said.
“Okay, you said…” She moved back toward the door, and I shifted Stump to the other hip and stepped out of her way. Viv opened the door. “You said they almost knocked the door off the hinges. This door?”
He looked around the tiny area. There was no other door to be seen. “Yes, that door.”
“So they came in and they — ” She stepped outside and took the door handle from the outside, then made a big show of yanking it open. “Almost knocked the door off the hinges. Is that right?”
She was going full Columbo now. It must have been a full morning of Columbo and CSI Fashion Week or something.
I, on the other hand, was feeling Stump. She was solid and practically square, so carrying her was something like carrying a warm furry cinder block.
“That’s ri
ght.”
“And there were four of them?” She held up four fingers.
He nodded.
“And where were they standing, exactly?”
Again, the guy looked at the area. Between the front door and the counter, there was a space maybe five feet deep and ten feet wide. If they had more than three customers in line, someone would have to wait outside.
He spread his hands and waved them back and forth vaguely. “They were here. That’s the only — just here.” He looked at me with an expression that said, “Is she for real?”
“All right here? All four of them?”
He nodded again, frowning. “Look, there’s not a lot to say. Four guys, they came in, they made a lot of noise, they took my money.”
“Now, about that,” Viv said. “They made a lot of noise. What did they say, exactly?”
“No words at first, just you know.” He opened his mouth wide. “Just Ahhhh! You know. Shouting. Like, the kind of noise football players make in a huddle.”
“Football players in a huddle,” Viv said, her hand to her chin, nodding gravely. “Football players in a huddle. So what you’re saying is, these guys were a team.”
“Well, not a team, exactly. They were just — ”
“No, you know what, Mr. — I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Mr. Indah.”
“Mr. Indah,” Viv said. “I think you might have subconsciously hit upon something there. These guys function — ” She held her hands out and laced her fingers together. “They function as a team. They have a relationship.”
Mr. Indah drew his head back. “A what?
Viv shook her head and gave a light laugh, pacing back and forth in the tiny space on her brown suede ankle boots. “I’m not implying anything romantic. I’m just saying, they have some kind of history together. They fit together like cogs in a wheel.” She laced her knuckles together again, turning her hands to mimic cogs working together. “It’s possible,” she said, her finger up to emphasize her point. “It’s possible they have been training together for weeks, months, perfecting their movements, developing a kind of — a kind of shorthand, a language of their own, even.”
Enough theorizing, I decided, as Stump slid a bit and looked up at me, annoyed. “So, how much did they take?” I asked.
“The police asked me to keep that information secret,” he said. “But it wasn’t a lot. Too much, but not a lot.”
“And you own the donut shop, too? Did they get that also?”
“No,” he said, with obvious relief. “Thank goodness. There’s usually more cash over there, and especially on a Saturday morning.”
“I wonder why they didn’t rob that while they were here?” I said.
“I don’t know, but I’d prefer they not come back.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m really sorry that this happened.”
“You and me both. It’s been a nightmare. Every time my wife hears a noise, she thinks it’s them, come back for what little we have left.”
“Well, tell your wife she can rest easy. We have a 100 percent success rate, and we don’t intend to change that any time soon.”
“I’ll tell her,” he said, with the same frown. I figured Mr. Indah was about done with us.
“Thank you for your time,” Viv said, pulling one of our business cards from her Michael Kors bag. “Please call us any time, day or night, if you think of something else. Anything at all. Oh!” she said, as if she’d just remembered. “Did you see what kind of car they were driving?”
“A white four-door Camry.”
We all looked kind of glum at that. Every other car in town was a white Camry.
Even Viv couldn’t put a spin on that one. “Pretty lame,” she offered.
He nodded. “Yeah, for violent thugs, it is.”
“Oh, that’s another question,” I said. “Bobby Sloan just said that so far, the robberies have not been violent. No weapons, even. Did you see a weapon?”
He shook his head. “No. They just ran in, made a bunch of noise, slammed their hands against the counter, and — ”
“Slammed their hands against the counter?” Viv said, her eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Well, they did. A couple of them did, I mean, not all four of them. They were yelling and making a bunch of noise, like — like shock and awe, you know.”
“I would advise you, Mr. Indah, not to withhold information from us. It is in your interest to provide every bit of detail you know.”
“I did provide you with —”
“We’re on your side here, Mr. Indah.” Viv lowered her head and looked at him with disapproving eyes.
He looked abashed for a second, then lowered his own brows as, apparently, he realized he didn’t owe this crazy old coot one thing.
“So, no weapons,” I said, bringing the conversation back around. “Did they threaten to use a weapon? Like, act like they had a gun and just didn’t show it?”
He shook his head. “No, not a word about a gun or anything. They were just so — so big and black and loud. And it was so surprising. They caught me off guard.”
“The element of surprise,” Viv said with a sage nod of her curly white head. “Even in the animal kingdom, it’s a powerful tool.”
Seriously, now that was enough. I shifted Stump again and stuck my hand out. “Mr. Indah, we appreciate your time. We will be getting back with you if we hear anything that might help.” I gestured to Viv with my head. “Okay, I think we’re done here.”
“Yep.” Viv snapped her notebook shut, not having written a single word.
I followed her out the door, then stopped and turned back to him. “Say, do you know the people who own Estacado Auto?”
He nodded. “Yeah, a little.”
“Do you know how…flexible they are, in terms of giving inspection stickers?”
He looked out at the gold boat, then back at me with sympathy. “I’ve heard they can be very accommodating,” he said with a knowing look.
“Really?” Yay! “I mean, that could be very good for me.”
“What I’ve heard is, they give you exactly what you ask for. If you go in and say you need an inspection, they’ll give you an inspection. If you say you want an inspection sticker, then that’s what you get. Ask for Marty.”
“Really?!” I said again, indecently thrilled. “That’s exactly what I need. An inspection sticker.”
I ran back out to the car. “Viv! Guess what?”
“Did he think of another clue he didn’t tell me?”
“No, and by the way, Good Lord, what was that?”
“What was what? That, my friend, was working a case.” She pushed her Kate Spade sunglasses higher on her nose and opened a tube of lipstick.
“You were even freaking me out a little bit.”
“That is called keeping them on their toes, my friend.”
“Okay, (a), stop calling me “my friend.” And (b), you do get that he’s not a suspect, right? He’s a victim.”
“Is he? Everyone is a suspect until they guilty party is caught and convicted.”
“So how’d he do it? Dress up in black and scare himself into giving up the money? To himself?”
“How do we even know he was even robbed? I mean, it was just him. Nobody else saw the robbers. We have only his word for it. He could be conniving some insurance fraud — ”
“I seriously think we’re going down rabbit holes here.” I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The car roared to life and seemed to levitate.
“Hey, wait a minute. Why am I driving? You’re supposed to be driving now.”
“It’s time to throw you in and let you sink or swim, Grasshopper.”
“You’re freaked out about the inspection sticker, aren’t you?”
“I just got a ticket, remember? Five days ago? If I get another one they’ll definitely make it compulsory for me to retest. So you’re driving until we’re legal again, sweetheart.”
“O
kay, well…it’s not that far. One block so I can get a sticker for this monster. Then it’s your turn again.”
I turned in my seat and looked as far back down Clovis Highway as I could, then turned and looked the other way. So far as I could tell, there were no cops.
I looked “down yonder” to the entrance of Estacado Auto, hyper-aware of all the times I’d heard “increased patrols” over the past few weeks. Surely I could get two hundred yards down the road without being pulled over.
I sat frozen at the edge of the parking lot.
“What?”
“I’m looking for cops. I don’t know how a ticket will affect my probation.”
“We’ve been driving all afternoon on an out-of-date sticker. What are the odds you’ll be caught in the next forty-five seconds?”
“The odds are astronomically in favor of me getting caught in the next forty-five seconds! Think about it. Every time I drove the car and didn’t get a ticket, I increased those odds. It has to catch up to me at some point, right? Plus, we were blissfully unaware before. Now that I know, it’s like I have a giant radioactive awareness cloud over my head that says “Catch me! Catch me!”
“You are riding this freak out a little too hard,” Viv said. “Ease up on the spurs a bit.”
“Tell me about it.” I looked both ways again. I stepped on the gas, but didn’t take my other foot off the brake. The car lurched but didn’t go anywhere. My feet seemed to be aware that as long as I didn’t move onto the road, I hadn’t broken any laws.
“Wait,” Viv said. She leaned to look past me, then craned her neck the other way. “Okay, go now! Go now!”
I screamed and floored the accelerator. The car fishtailed onto the road, throwing gravel behind us. I was certain I was about to be t-boned by a semi.
“What?!” I shouted at Viv as we tore down the road.
“I just wanted you to get moving. But you can slow down now. Slow down!”
Caught in the Crotchfire Page 18