At Rope's End (A Dr. James Verraday Mystery #1)(64)
“Really? Well then let’s talk about that Dodge Charger Hemi instead.”
“What?” snorted Griffin.
“You said it was at an upholstery shop.”
“That’s right.”
“You’re lying, Mr. Griffin. I had a patrol car do a drive-by of your mother’s home this morning. What do you think they found?”
Jason didn’t answer.
“There was a covered vehicle carrier in her driveway,” continued Maclean. “One that was exactly the right size to have a Dodge Charger in it. So we got a warrant and executed that warrant right before we picked you up, so you and your mom wouldn’t have time for a little emergency conference. And what do you suppose was in that trailer but a vintage Dodge Charger worth a lot of money.”
“Detective, that vehicle is lawfully registered to my client. Where are you going with all this?” asked Tarleton.
“Hold on, Counselor. I think you’ll find this interesting. So Jason, you lied about the car being at the upholstery shop. It was at your mother’s house.”
“That’s not a crime,” said Tarleton. “He probably just didn’t want you and your horde pestering his poor mother.”
“No, Counselor, I don’t think that was the reason. I think it had more to do with the fact that the VIN number, which I checked this morning, indicates that your car came equipped with a 318 V-8, not a 426 Hemi?”
“So what?” sneered Griffin.
“So the engine serial number of the Hemi now installed in your car indicates that it originally came from a 1971 Dodge Challenger down in Eugene, Oregon. Apparently two men came to test drive it a few months ago. Since the car was worth almost $100,000, the owner, one Paul Schmidt, quite understandably wanted to ride along. For some strange reason, instead of leaving their own vehicle at the home of the Challenger’s owner, one of the men test drove the car while the other man followed behind in their vehicle. An hour later, when Mr. Schmidt hadn’t returned home, his wife became concerned. And apparently she had reason to be, because Paul Schmidt’s body turned up a week later, in a backwoods canyon, burned beyond recognition. The Dodge Challenger was never recovered.”
“Look, I bought that Hemi in good faith from somebody Cody knew. I had no idea it was hot or I never would have bought it.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” said Maclean. “The wife of the owner was watching from the kitchen window when her husband went out to meet these two young men. She couldn’t get a good look at their car or plate number, but there was something about them she didn’t like. She’s already identified Cody as one of them. And she has agreed to be flown up here to pick you out of a lineup. In fact, she’s here as we speak. Now, your mother had your car with the stolen engine stored at her property. That makes her an accessory.”
“This is bullshit,” said Jason.
“My client is right, Detective. This is ridiculous.”
“Well, the judge didn’t think so, because he’s issued an arrest warrant for your mother. And she’s in custody right now.”
Jason’s jaw tightened.
“Keep working him over about his mother,” whispered Verraday. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him flinch. She’s the way in.”
“I looked in on her right before this interview,” said Maclean. “There are some pretty nasty crack whores in that holding cell with her, let me tell you. And a Criplette who seems to be taking quite an interest in her. We’ll try to keep them separated, but it’s pretty full in there today. Hard for the jailers to keep an eye on everybody, you know? Could take a while to process the papers before she can post bail and head home.”
Jason looked angry now. “Leave my mother out of this. She doesn’t know anything.”
“Only one way to find out,” said Maclean. “We’ll have to keep her here for questioning.”
“I’m about to send you a text,” whispered Verraday. “You know what to do.”
Maclean’s cell phone buzzed. She pulled it out and checked the display.
“Just got a text from the search site. That dog that you think is so funny? It found a hot spot up there on the property your family owned until very recently. So we’ll be bringing a backhoe in on a barge tomorrow morning. It will cost the taxpayers hundreds of thousands of dollars, but we’ll find every last one of those bodies, I promise you, Mr. Griffin. And the more money it costs the taxpayers, the more likely it is that the district attorney will go for the maximum penalty. That means that unless you decide to tell me the truth now, the only decision you’ll have left to make after you leave this room is whether you’d prefer to be executed by hanging or lethal injection. It’s your call. And by the way, I’m going to subpoena your mother as a witness. I want her to give me a little tour of the family retreat, so when the bodies of your victims start coming out of the ground, she can see what her precious little boy has done.”
“That’s enough!” said Tarleton testily. “You don’t have a single shred of hard evidence.”
“Oh, and one other thing, Jason. You showed me a rental contract for a car up in Port Angeles. Only twenty miles on the odometer when you brought it back the next morning. The manager at the Red Lion noticed it parked just outside the office all night. He says you spent about an hour down by the shore, watching the waves roll in. Said you looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.”