The wind had increased. The desert sand was nasty and careless where it struck. Hagan was forced to shelter his face behind his forearm. Since he’d spoken to Beck there’d been one car, total, tourists getting out of Dodge. His radio went. It was Mal Gross.
‘Yes Sarge.’
‘We’re bringing it in, Hages. It’s coming in faster than they thought.’
‘You’re not kidding.’
‘And I hope you told Lalor Corona, ’cause I like Corona.’
The bet was common knowledge. Hagan would have to share. From the case, he’d be lucky to wind up with a brace.
As he was about to open his door to climb into the relative safety of his cabin he saw a vehicle approaching from the Derby direction. This was the opposite direction to where he expected the abductor, that’s why he’d set up on the other side of the road, to get vehicles heading out of town. Hagan was good at spotting makes and models from a very long distance, it was his specialty, similar to how some of the indigenous boys could spot a roo and it would look to him like a small shrub. Part of him was inclined to let the car go. But then again the bet would be a tie. Neither would buy a case, and the Sarge and the other cheapskates would have to buy their own beers. He could see the car was an SUV, white. He hit his lights and walked into the road with his sign that read POLICE STOP. He managed to give the driver enough time to slow and eventually pull over. Hagan made sure the road was clear and headed across, his shirt flapping like the sails of yacht. His cap wouldn’t make it in the high winds so he left it in his car as he approached the Rav4. There was only the driver, a young guy. Hagan made sure he could see his hands at the wheel. He wasn’t taking any chances.
‘Everything okay? I don’t think I was speeding.’
‘No, just checking cars on another matter.’
Hagan used his phone to snap the plates. It beat trying to write anything in this wind.
‘You got your licence?’
The young guy flicked through his wallet. Went back and checked again.
‘I think I must have left it.’
Hagan’s phone buzzed with a text. He read it. It gave the make, model and rego of the vehicle they were after. His training kicked in and his hand went to his gun before he even had time to get nervous.
‘Would you get out of the vehicle please, sir?’