NINE

 

 

September 17th, 2016

Reno, Nevada

 

LOTT HADN’T BEEN surprised at how much Julia was loved in her old headquarters. Over the last few years getting to know her, he couldn’t imagine anyone not liking her.

And her former chief, Norbert, clearly respected her and she felt the same for him. Lott had instantly liked the chief. A solid man who Lott had no doubt could be trusted completely on anything.

On the way to the car dealership, Lott and Julia had decided to just tell Dewey Maxwell the truth about what they were doing. After thirty years, it didn’t seem to make any sense to try to hide any information from the man.

Lott didn’t know what to expect from the dealership, but when they pulled in, he had still been surprised. It was a large place, covering acres along one side of the main highway to the south of Reno. It was well lit, the cars polished and clean, and the main building of the dealership looked almost new.

A second building held a number of repair bays and a bunch of mechanics.

“Wow, this place is nicer and bigger than I imagined it to be,” Lott said.

“I think they have made a few improvements since I left,” Annie said. “But still about the same size.”

They headed through the slowly warming morning air and into the dealership. The inside had a dozen cars scattered around a polished floor showroom and at least four salesmen at desks.

One stood and came toward them smiling, thinking they were hot clients, no doubt thanks to the Cadillac they had pulled up in.

Before the poor guy could say anything, Lott and Julia both flashed their badges and asked to see Dewey. The fake smile vanished from the guy’s face instantly and he took them down a hallway to the right of the showroom and knocked on a door.

“Come in,” a voice said and the salesman indicated they should go in and then he almost ran back to the showroom. Lott smiled at Julia. Sometimes it was fun to mess with people’s minds like that.

Dewey Maxwell seemed to be about Lott’s age, with a full head of gray hair and a white moustache. He stood from behind his desk when they came in and Lott was surprised he was taller than Lott’s six foot height. Dewey had to be a good six-three or more.

He and Julia both introduced themselves, apologized for taking his time, and got him smiling when Julia said the chief wanted them to say hello for him.

“So what can I help you with, Detectives?” Dewey asked.

Julia told him about the case they were working on, then asked about Becky Penn’s red Toyota that was sold here. She gave him the exact year and vin number on the car.

“I keep track of every car I ever bought and sold,” Dewey said.

“We’re interested in who sold it to you and what was the registration on it.”

“You saying this car belonged to a girl who died?” Dewey said, shaking his head. “Let me see how the hell I ended up with it.”

Dewey turned to his computer and started typing, looking at the note with the vin number Julia had given him.

Lott’s heart jumped. Could it really be possible that they would get so lucky as to find out who sold Becky Penn’s car?

“Oh, sure,” Dewey said, nodding. “Duane sold me that car way back. He has sold me a lot of cars over the years.”

“Do you have his full name and records on the car?” Julia asked.

“Oh, sure,” Dewey said. “His name is Duane Thorn. Lives down by you folks in Vegas from what I understand. He’s a great scout. One of my best.”

At that, Dewey punched a button and a printer against the wall started to warm up.

“Scout?” Lott asked, not wanting to trust his guess as to what a car scout did or didn’t do?

“All major car dealers use them,” Dewey said, standing to go get the information from the printer. “They are licensed by the state to buy and resell cars. They make their living from the difference they can find a car for and clean it up and what I give them.”

Lott watched as Dewey took the paper from the printer and then handed it to Julia.

“Here’s the information he gave me on the car, the title, and his information and his reseller’s license,” Dewey said.

Lott glanced at the picture on the license. They guy looked slightly familiar from somewhere.

“He’s still around?” Julia asked a fraction of a second before Lott could.

“Sure is,” Dewey said, sitting back into his chair with a sigh. “He became a reseller a few years before that Toyota. If memory serves, he had already sold me five or six cars at that point.”

“Would it be possible to get the information on all the cars he’s sold you over the years?” Lott asked. “It would help a great deal to know before we talk with him.”

Lott’s gut was twisting and he didn’t want to think about what had crossed his mind. They had to clear out the chance that this Duane guy was the guy who killed those four women.

And maybe others.

Dewey shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Nothing secret at all about what I do here.”

He turned back to his computer.

“Really, really appreciate your time,” Julia said. “I’ll tell the chief how much you helped us.”

Dewey laughed, but didn’t turn from his computer. “Never hurts to have the chief of police on your side, I suppose.”

Lott glanced at Julia who looked slightly white. She had had the same thought he had just had. She was focusing straight ahead on Dewey, clearly trying to stay calm.

Lott didn’t think it was possible that this Duane Thorn could kill for cars, but in the world of killers, Lott had learned a long time ago to never underestimate the evil that some people carried.