Eleven

Sitting in Ike’s vehicle, with the air conditioner blasting, I completed a more thorough search of Luna and Marie’s personal items. I pulled out the items and placed them in stacks. Papers. Clothing. A gold locket. Marie’s necklace. Gently, I picked it up and cradled it in my palm. I smoothed out the delicate chain and spotted the broken clasp. Had it broken during the accident? I tucked it into my purse, afraid it would get lost amongst the other items in the box.

I gathered the papers onto my lap and flipped through them slowly: a script with Luna’s scenes highlighted and notes scribbled on it, drycleaners receipt, and a sheet of paper with Katrina’s and three TV actresses’ names on it. Must be people Katrina was an assistant for.

I started the search from the beginning and cataloged everything in the box. No manuscript. What happened to it? Why would the sheriff think it was needed for the investigation? Unless there was something written in there he believed tied into Marie’s death.

The beginning of a headache worked itself in my temples. I turned up the air-conditioning and directed the vents at my face, then leaned my head back against the seat and rubbed my temples, my phone on my lap. What I should be doing right now was picking up craft items for the job I was hired to do—making, or buying, handcrafting items for the movie. Not proving that Marie was murdered and who did it. That was the sheriff’s job. I’ve given him all the information I knew and had to trust he was capable of doing his job.

But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t get the pictures of Marie’s car for Luna.

In the rearview mirror, I saw a tow truck pull out from a side street beside the sheriff’s office. On the bed of the truck was a silver BMW with the front smashed in. Luna’s car. I was sure of it. Where were they taking it?

There was one way to find out. Follow it. I backed up and kept a few car lengths distance behind the truck. The driver was heading down the main road, in the opposite direction from where I entered. Looked like I was seeing the whole town today. We passed by some large brick office buildings.

The truck picked up speed as the part of town we entered was sparser. There were a few buildings but most looked run down and empty. It didn’t take long before I spotted a large white building—Rhodes Collison and Detailing Center.

The sheriff owned the business where the car was being taken. The good feelings I had toward the sheriff dwindled. There was something odd about taking the car there rather than leaving it at the sheriff’s department. Especially after Luna insisted on having pictures of the car and the sheriff refusing the request.

The driver parked in front of a tall, locked fence and got out, heading into the building. There were a few spots in front of the building and I quickly parked and jumped out, making sure I took my cell phone with me.

I ran over to the tow truck and stood by the driver’s side, snapping a few upward angle photos of the front end. What I needed was close-ups and from the front. It was hard getting them when I was on the ground. I stepped sideways a few feet and peered through the glass door. The driver was leaning on the counter, drumming his hands on it. There was no one else in there.

I might have enough time. I braced my hands on the truck bed and jumped, straining my muscles and hooking my right leg onto the flatbed. After a few moments of wiggling, I finished pulling myself up.

Carefully, I walked along on the edge of the bed, holding my arms out to maintain my balance. I knew it was a bad idea to get my fingerprints on the car. Or at least any more of them. When I reached the front of the car, I leaned over and snapped a picture of the front. Too blurry. Holding my phone out further, I tried again.

“What are you doing?”

The deep rumble startled me. I windmilled my arms, gripping my phone tightly and trying not to drop it or tumble off. It was a bit of a ways down and explaining how I broke my leg was not something I wanted to add to my to-do list.

A hand pushed on my back, holding me up and nearly squashing me against the car.

“Getting photos for my boss.” I reached back and grabbed hold of the arm, steadying myself. “Anyway, can I get a look inside the car. There’s something in there she needs.”

“Nope. Now, get down from there before you fall. I don’t think my insurance covers that type of injury.”

“But—”

“I can’t have you up there. Want to get me fired?”

I shook my head and inched my way to the back of the truck. The guy kept a hand on my back, either to stop me from falling or making sure I didn’t disobey and climb into the car. I sat on the edge of the bed then hopped off.

“Let the attendant know you left items in the car. Maybe he’ll let you look.”

The gate opened and the driver climbed into the cab of the tow truck and drove inside. The gate closed after him.

I peered through the chain links. There were tons of cars with various damages, some near destruction while others had some dented bumpers and smashed windows. I rose on my toes, clutching onto the fence and craning my neck, trying to find where he was putting Luna’s car. Sunlight glinted off all the cars. I shielded my eyes with my hand and took another look.

“The auction isn’t until next week,” a voice said from behind me.

I spun around and saw a disgruntled looking man with long gray hair and an equally long beard glowering at me, though the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth softened his anger quite a bit. He tugged up the jeans slipping from his narrow hips. The oxford shirt with the name of the collision company stitched on the pocket was stained with grease and dirt. He shoved up the sleeves, crossed his arms, and intensified his stare, trying to be more intimidating.

“No pictures allowed. Don’t want anyone getting an unfair advantage.”

“I was taking photos of the car for my boss. It’s her car. Needs them for insurance purposes.”

“Right. For the car picked up from the sheriff’s department that I was told not to let anyone near.” His eyebrows rose and he tilted his head slightly to the side. “Just snuck on up there without asking. Maybe I should give him a call and let him know.”

I gave him my most winning smile and discretely swiped away a trickle of sweat from my brow. With each minute, the sun was more intense. “Just need a few shots of the damage.”

“He said it’s evidence.”

“I understand. I won’t touch anything. She just wants some more photos of the front of the car where most of the damage is.” I held out my cell phone. “Can you take them for me? I have to get these, or my boss won’t be very happy with me. She can’t get the paperwork rolling for a new car without the pictures.”

“I’m not sure my boss will be pleased if I do that for you.”

Who was his boss? Sheriff Rhodes might’ve kept the business in case the sheriff thing didn’t work out for him. I doubted his employee would go against his boss who was also the sheriff. Darn it all, I should’ve told the guy I was the insurance adjuster and needed photos for the claim.

“He has to let us get the pictures.” I worked on keeping the panic out of my voice. There was no way the guy wouldn’t start thinking something was off by me being too desperate for photos of the car.

“Tell your boss to have the insurance adjuster come here.”

“She wants me to take the photos. Doesn’t trust the insurance adjuster will get the correct ones because they don’t want to pay out for everything. She’s not a very trusting soul.”

“Yet, she sent you rather than come herself.” The man grinned at me.

“That’s because she picked me. She’s not allowed to pick the adjuster herself. Just whoever the insurance company assigns.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “She does not like relinquishing control or wasting her time. So, I’m here to satisfy her need for control and not wasting her time.”

The man’s face softened with sympathy and he held out his hand, palm up. “I know those types. I’ll take the pictures for you. I can’t get in trouble for letting anyone back there if you stay out here.”

I unlocked my phone and handed it over. “Thanks. Can you also look for a stack of papers left in the car? She’s working on a book and left her draft in there.”

“You can wait inside the office. It’s hot out here.” He pointed to the office door then headed into the area marked service.

I stepped inside the office and basked in the cold air flowing around my body. Already, my arms were a little pink from standing outside in the sun. My left arm a little more so from the sun shining through the window when I was driving over. Stopping for sunscreen was going on today’s list of errands.

In the corner, near the only desk in the area, was a water cooler. I got some ice-cold water, my eyes drifting over to the paperwork on the desk. The top sheet was for Luna’s car. From the corner of my eye, I read the document. It was a form detailing the tow of the vehicle.

The name of the customer was Randolph Rhodes, rather than the sheriff department, and the tow pick up location was listed as the road where the department was at. No building number to say it had been at the department, just on the street.

The door opened. I diverted my attention to the water cooler, refilling the paper cup with water.

“What are you doing here?” The familiar voice startled me, and I almost dropped the cup. Paul. I turned and caught him eyeing me in a critical way.

I inched backwards. Paul had never looked at me that way before, as if I was doing something wrong…distrustful. It hurt. “Luna wanted pictures of the car damage and I came to get them since I was in Harmony.”

He kept that unsettling gaze on me.

I wasn’t liking this new-to-me Paul. I crossed my arms and tilted my chin up. After having lived with a critical man, I refused to stand by and allow any man to treat me like that. Especially one who claimed to be my friend and wanted more of a relationship with me. “Why are you here? You were talking with the coroner. Has an autopsy been done?”

“The information led me here.”

His lack of response threw me off. What was he holding back from me and why? Was he not comfortable sharing the information here—or with me?

The worker walked back in. “Here’s your phone. The lighting—” He stopped talking, staring at Paul for a long moment before shoving my phone toward me. “Is not very good back there. Took me a while to find your phone in the car you dropped off. Should be ready this afternoon.”

I was a little envious of the tech’s ability to switch truths on a moment’s notice, and a little concerned about it. Did Paul know the tech was lying about the reason he had my phone? I was certain Paul was here for the same information. How to stop him? Or was it better for the employee to know something was up with what his boss was trying to do? I tapped on the screen of my phone. Without even looking at the pictures, I sent them to Paul. “Thanks for finding the phone for me. Have an appointment today and the address is on here. I’d be lost without it.”

“No problem. Seems nowadays most people’s lives are in their phone.”

Where was Marie’s work phone? Was it locked away in the sheriff’s office as evidence or did the killer have it?