From the Grounds Up (15 page)

'They were very close,' I added.

'Right.' Jenada cleared his throat uncomfortably. 'Well, umm, I'm going to go. The police will take care of things from here.'

Like he had been such a big help up to this point, gawking and exclaiming. Nonetheless, I stuck my hand out to him. 'Thanks for your help, Art. I'm looking forward to being neighbors.'

'Yeah. Me, too.' Art shook my hand and took his leave.

'He didn't sound like he meant that,' Tien said. She was jotting more notes on her checkbook's surplus deposit slips.

'He doesn't.' The handshake had transferred flour from Art's hand to mine and I was looking around for something to wipe it on. I didn't find anything, but I did spot the handbag I must have dumped in the corner of the room. Since the bag cost more than my denims, I wiped the flour on my jeans and retrieved it.

As I reached through the ticket window to set the bag down out of sight, I saw the plans I'd worked on after Sarah had left the night before.

I beckoned Ronny over, just as the sirens cut off outside. 'Can you and Tien take a look at these? I made a couple of changes and maybe she'll have some more ideas.'

I nodded toward Sarah, who was standing at the door, looking out. 'Your cousin and I should talk to the police.'

The two of them obediently took the papers and went off to the kitchen. I joined Sarah .

'Two fire trucks, an ambulance and two squad cars.' She turned back to look at me. 'You're in luck--they're town.'

Both the municipal police and the county sheriff's department had jurisdiction in Brookhills. Manpower, the type of call and exactly where it was located all had a bearing on which entity responded.

If the Brookhills Police were here, that meant I didn't have to worry about Pavlik showing up.

'Good,' I said, hustling Sarah out. 'Let's get this over with.'

'Hellooo.' I waved at the two uniformed officers. 'Car owner? Right here.' I pointed at Sarah.

'Thanks, friend,' she muttered, but picked her way down the steps to speak to them.

I remained on the porch to one side of the Firebird, trying to stay out of the way of the firefighters, who were charged with figuring out how to extricate Sarah's car from the superstructure of the depot. The discussion, though, seemed to center more on how it had gotten there.

'You're telling me nobody was driving this buggy?' A firefighter, dark shaggy hair streaked with gray, thumped the fender.

'Hands off,' Sarah snapped from down below. She'd been in deep conversation with the police officers, so I could only assume she had a telepathic link to the Firebird. Maybe
she
was the Prophet of Doom.

'Hey, lady,' the firefighter said, holding up his arms. 'I'll be happy to, but I hope you have decorating ideas for this baby, because it's not coming out without some help.'

'Let them look,' I heard one of the cops advise Sarah. 'If there's a way to get your car out without damage to the structure, they're your best bet.'

'Structural damage?' I chirped from my perch.

Startled, the cop looked up. 'Right. If there's damage to the building, no one will be going in or out until it's repaired and you get a new permit.'

'Touch it all you want,' I called to the shaggy firefighter. 'Do you need help? A crowbar maybe?'

The firefighter waved me off, but I did get a grin out of him. I sidled over. 'Is this something you guys can really do?'

My thinking:
Is this something that won't cost Uncommon Grounds II anything?
In other words, our tax dollars at work.

But he shook his head. 'We just advise. A tow-truck will do the actual work.'

He looked at the hole in the deck the Firebird's front wheel had made. 'And it'll have to be the Godzilla of all tow-trucks.'

'Hey, Brady,' a younger firefighter called. 'Check this out.'

My guy--Brady, presumably--joined his colleague at the driver's side door. The younger firefighter was pointing at something. Then he licked his index finger and ducked into the Firebird. When he came out he sniffed his finger and waved it in front of Brady.

Before the junior G-man could taste it, Brady grabbed his hand. 'Heckleman!'

The police officer I'd spoken to looked up.

'Got something here,' Brady said.

I exchanged looks with Sarah as Heckleman climbed the stairs. He leaned into the car, then beckoned for his fellow officer to join him.

I was on the far side of the Firebird and since the car was sitting at an angle--one tire lodged into the aforementioned hole in the deck--I couldn't see what they were looking at.

Finally, the officers conferred and then made their way down the steps to Sarah. Heckleman took out his handcuffs. 'I'm sorry, Ms Kingston, we're going to have to take you in.'

'Whoa.' I came off the porch as I had earlier. I landed the same way, too, and by the time I got to my feet, they were already snapping the shackles on Sarah.

'What are you arresting her for?' I demanded, trailing them. 'Forgetting to set her parking brake?'

Heckleman turned, his hand resting lightly on the butt of his gun in its holster. 'Funny.'

My relationship with Pavlik had taught me a few things. Like when to back off.

I held up both hands. 'I'm sorry. Just trying to understand why you're detaining my friend.' I'd learned some cop words, too.

'We're "detaining" her,' Heckleman sounded like he was making fun of my vocabulary, 'on suspicion of drug possession.'

Oh.

Chapter Sixteen

It was
Cops
, come to life in our own town of Brookhills.

Heckleman opened the squad car's rear door and put his hand on the top of Sarah's head to ease her into the backseat.

Through the driver's side window I could see what looked like a ticket book--the kind for traffic citations, not police raffles--on the passenger seat and, on top of that, a radar gun. Apparently Heckleman had been lying in ambush for speeders when our call reached headquarters. An empty McDonald's coffee cup and balled-up Egg McMuffin wrapper lay on the floor in front of the seat, alongside a covered kettle that I suspected was used as a porta-potty.

'Don't be ridiculous,' Sarah was squawking. 'I can't leave my car. Look at it.' She tried to gesture toward the Firebird, but her hands were cuffed behind her back.

'Look at it?' Brady hitched his thumbs in his belt and rocked forward on his toes. 'Oh, believe me, we'll look at it. With a fine-tooth comb.'

Heckleman ignored the mangled metaphor, but not the sentiment. 'Like hell you will,' he said, straightening up. 'Don't touch that car, Brady. Understand? Crime Scene is coming out.'

Brady's face reddened, but he kept on rocking. 'Sure, sure. Heckleman. We'll do our job and the techies will do theirs. We know the drill.'

'I swear, if you so much as--'

'—touch my car,' Sarah took over from inside the squad. 'I'll have your badge.'

'He's a firefighter,' I pointed out.

'Then I'll have his hose.' Sarah looked like she meant it.

Brady, however, seemed uncertain. 'My hose?'

'You heard me,' Sarah snarled. 'Sleep with one eye open.'

Shades of Lorena Bobbitt. 'Shut up before they add threatening an officer to the charges,' I hissed.

'But he's not a cop. You said so. Is there a law against threatening firefighters?'

Before I could make up something up, she broke into tears. 'I need you to help me, Maggy.'

'Of course.' I went to pat Sarah's shoulder, but pulled back as Heckleman moved toward us. 'Tell me what I can do.'

'Please,' she managed between sobs, 'call Mario.'

Sarah's attorney, presumably. 'Which firm is he with?'

'He's on his own.' She swung her legs out of the squad as Heckleman started to close the door.

'OK, then how will I find him? What's his last name?'

The officer stuffed Sarah's feet back in and tried again.

'Look in the Yellow Pages,' she managed before the door slammed shut between us.

'Under "attorneys"?' I yelled at the closed window. How many pages of lawyers' listings would I have to wade through if Sarah couldn't tell me the guy's last name?

As Heckleman circled around to the driver's side and started the car, Sarah shook her head emphatically. 'What the hell are you talking about?' came through clearly, albeit muffled.

It was as the squad began to pull away, though, that I nearly missed Sarah's Kingston's touching final words to me:

'I said Mario, you idiot. He's my mechanic.'

As far as I was concerned, finding St.Mario of the Oil Stain could wait. Getting the car-owner out of the slammer was a whole lot more important to me than getting the car itself repaired.

The first thing I did was alert Ronny and Tien to what was going on.

'I don't understand," Ronny said, stepping to the door of the depot to look out. 'What did they find?'

'I don't know.' I pointed at Brady and the other firefighter, who were talking to a guy with an auto club logo on his shirt. Something told me the American Automobile Association's Basic Coverage wasn't going to cover this. 'But I'll bet they do.'

Ronny nodded. 'Maybe you should go ask them.'

I started moving toward the klatch, but Brady lifted his head. His look wasn't exactly welcoming.

I retreated. 'Maybe
you
should go talk to them, Ronny. You know, man-to-man?'

He nodded, folding down the collar on his shirt. Thank God the green polyester pants had been yesterday's muse. 'I'm on it.'

As Ronny crossed to the other men, Tien asked, 'Think they'll tell him anything?'

'Probably not, but I've grown tired of rejection. Let somebody else share the dream.'

As we watched, Ronny exchanged a few words with Brady before the other man stuck his hand out to shake. Then the firefighter must have introduced Ronny to his younger co-worker because the two of them also shook and, finally, the AAA man joined in.

'What? No secret male rituals?' Tien asked in a stage whisper. 'No primal screams?'

I snickered and Brady threw
me
the dirty look.

Not one to be a tattler, I simply slewed my eyes toward Tien.

Brady didn't take the hint, turning back to the group. The four men spoke, one or the other of them gesturing toward various parts of Sarah's car. When the AAA man descended the steps to look at the rear, Ronny took the opportunity to point to the driver's side.

Another exchange and, when the fourth man rejoined the group, Ronny shook hands all around and returned to us.

Except he passed by and continued on into the depot.

'Where's he going?' Tien asked.

'Shh. It's his cover. We'll wait a couple of minutes and then go in.'

I counted to five in my head. 'Oh, hell, let's go.'

We found Ronny behind the ticket counter waiting for us.

'So what did you say?' Tien asked. 'Did they tell you anything?'

Ronny puffed out his chest. 'Well, first I introduced myself.'

'As Sarah's cousin?' This from me.

'Of course not. I told them I was the contractor and was concerned about the stability of the building and how soon I could start repairs.'

'Brilliant,' Tien breathed.

Ronny blushed. 'Not really.'

'Really,' I confirmed. 'Now, what did they say?'

'About what they found?'

'That, too. But first, when can you begin work?' OK, so it was a little self-centered of me. But I was certain Sarah would concur when I bailed her out.

'They said if the Firebird was towed away later this afternoon, the building inspector could check the depot out as soon as tomorrow. I have to pull permits anyway, so I'll run over and see him this afternoon. Take the bull by the horns.' Ronny was looking mighty pleased with himself.

'Why are they waiting to remove it?' I hooked my finger toward the window, where we could see the big AAA wrecker with a winch on it. Who needed Mario anyway? 'The tow-truck is here, why don't they do it right now?'

'They have to examine the Firebird.' Ronny nodded to a van that was pulling up in front. The vehicle was unmarked, but I recognized it as the county crime scene investigators' wheels.

'Oh, God. Not the sheriff's office,' I said as a man climbed out of the van on the driver's side. I remembered him as one of the people who responded to Kornell's train wreck. A photographer popped out from the passenger's side.

Oh well, one way or the other, Pavlik was going to hear about this. 'Examining it for what? What did they find? And where?'

'The "where",' Ronny said, milking it, 'is the driver's seat. Oh, and I think the gas pedal.' He put his index finger to his chin and tapped like he was trying to remember.

'And the "what"?' I was getting impatient. I could see flashes of light as the county photographer took photos on the shady porch.

'The "what"?' Ronny repeated.

I glared at him. 'Don't play with me.'

He flushed and snuck a peek to see if Tien was listening.

She had been, but now she gazed off at the ceiling, walls--anything but us. In a second, she'd start whistling.

Could there be something brewing between these two? I looked from Ronny to Tien and back again. 'Give.'

Ronny cleared his throat and, as Tien turned to him, puffed out his chest. 'Oh, you mean what did they
find
?'

Before I could smack him upside the head, he moved hastily on. 'Cocaine.'

'What?' I knew we were dangerously close to a 'Who's on first' moment, but I honestly couldn't believe it.

'Cocaine. You know: Coke. Snow. Nose . . . umm, nose . . .'

'Candy,' Tien supplied.

We both looked at her.

This time
she
blushed. 'I do watch TV.'

'
Law & Order
.' Ronny positively glowed. 'I love that show. Watch each episode, over and over.'

'Me, too,' Tien said, moving a little closer. 'I know it's not real life, but . . .' She trailed off.

'No, but Pavlik tells me it's very accurate as far as . . .' I caught myself. 'Enough television talk. Are you serious? They found cocaine in Sarah's car?'

Ronny shrugged. 'That's what they told me. Of course, until they get it to the county lab, they can't be sure.'