for. But Stella, Sam learned from her less-than-stellar employee, John Henry, was on vacation all week.
“She’s gone to visit an uncle in Minnesota,” John offered. “Something about cancer, she said.” John was a fat, hairy man, one step removed from gorillahood, right down to his knuckles dragging on the sandy patch underneath his latest pickup: a shiny red corvette, probably towed for sport, knowing John.
“Where’s the Camaro that came in a few nights ago?” Sam’s eyes were scanning the neatly stacked rows of car remnants in search of the car. He wondered why Stella kept John around.
“She was ruined, for one thing. No way anybody ever gonna get that car back to running. Sand, grit, mud, water….” John marked off the offenses on his fat, grimy fingers.
“Where is it? I’d like to look at it.”
“Stack twenty-five, Row B.” John didn’t bother to point it out, but he graciously waved his hand toward the general direction of the rear lot. Sam walked in that direction, counting off the stacks, then the ten-foot rows, as he passed them. There, one away from the top of the stack, was the crushed carcass of a car Sam could only guess was the Camaro.
Sam fumed as he jogged back to the gorilla-man. “Who gave the order to crush it? The case is still open; it’s still evidence.”
“Look, pal; if you don’t like the procedure, talk to your boss. I just do as I’m told.” John didn’t bother to stand up this time.
“Who told you?”
“Chief.”
Sam stormed back to his car without a word. Procedure. Evidence. He rolled it over in his mind like a Rubik’s Cube as he drove to the police station. It didn’t make sense.
Chapter nineteen
“What’s going on, Chief?” Sam stormed into Chief Singleton’s office at full speed, ignoring the growl Singleton made as he whirled around in his desk chair, the phone glued to one ear. “Put the damn phone down and give me some answers!” Sam grabbed the phone away from Chief and slammed it down on the receiver; then he glared at a startled Chief from across his own desk.
“What’s gotten into you, Sam?” Chief shot back. He moved around to close his office door so the department wouldn’t hear the ensuing shouting match; then he warily walked back to his chair and slowly sat. His desk phone rang again. This time, he answered it with a short, “I’ll call you back,” before hanging up.
“Me? I am just looking for some answers.” Sam’s hands balled into fists as he leaned on the desk. “I just learned that my old truck’s bugged. Then, I see with my own two eyes a suspect’s car that was lifted from the dunes at the Golden Sun has already been crushed beyond recognition over at Wally’s. Whatever happened to proper procedures? I thought you assigned me to the fire case because you thought I could find some answers. But now I think you put me there to keep me out of the way or something. I am guessing my loaner car was bugged too, which means somebody was tracking me the night I ran into a tree. Help me out, here, Chief. What the hell is going on?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at Singleton.
“First off,” said Chief, taking a deep breath apparently to control his temper, “the car has been in the warehouse for close to a week. We dusted it inside and out, and it was clean. There’s no room in there for ghosts, so we talked with Commissioner Martin, who signed the order. Next, we sent it to Wally’s Wrecking to be crushed. That’s standard operating procedure.” Chief shifted forward in his chair and thumped a thick stack of papers on a corner of his desk. “Second, I have a caseload here like none I’ve seen before. Your piddly-assed attempt to find some answers at Golden Sun means nothing to me. I’ve got me a suspect, and I was on the phone trying to round up some more information to make it stick. Meanwhile, Andy tells me you are out sailing with some chickie. That’s really being on the case, I’d say. And you are being watched because you are a suspect in Lee’s murder. So shut your loud mouth and get your skinny ass out of my office. You are suspended, and I don’t want to see you lurking around here until we get this solved!” Chief stood up with such force that his chair tipped over