Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(27)

“Yeah.” His expression had grown wary. “What do you mean missing?”

“We’re not sure yet. How do you know Mr. Reese?” Josie asked.

“He does our books.”

“He was your accountant?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“No, I just know his name.”

“Did you know Mr. Reese’s secretary, Christina Handley?”

He shook his head.

“Do you understand the charges against your dad?”

He shrugged, turned his head away from them, and looked around the salvage yard. “I guess. He was selling cars across the border. The police say some of them were stolen. I don’t know how they know that. My dad didn’t know they were stolen.”

Josie noted that he had avoided eye contact with her.

“How long has your dad been gone?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Nine days.”

She nodded, imagining the stress the kid must be under. “So how does your business work here? You buy wrecked cars?”

“Mostly insurance settlements. Somebody wrecks a car and insurance totals it out. We buy the wrecked car for a cheap price, then we sell it to an auto body shop in Mexico. They rebuild it and sell it.”

“With a clean title?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

Josie pointed to his arms. “How’d you get those bruises?”

He narrowed his eyes and looked closely at Josie, taking several seconds to respond. “Playing with the dog. He likes to roughhouse.”

She nodded, studying him in return, but his expression remained neutral. “You mind if we take a look around the yard?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not much to see. Just a bunch of junk cars.”

“It’s okay. We’ll just get a better sense of what you do here.” It was a bogus response. Josie just wanted to see how he would react to having the police walk around the grounds.

He looked away, avoiding eye contact, and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “If you want.”

“Thanks. We’ll just be a minute.”

A driving lane split the rows of vehicles and parts into two main sections. Josie and Otto took off walking down it. When she glanced over her shoulder she saw the boy walking back into the office, probably to watch them from the window.

“That kid’s a nervous mess,” Otto said.

“I feel sorry for him. Living his life based on his dad’s lousy decisions.”

They reached the last row and saw it was mostly filled with vans and travel trailers in serious disrepair. They turned left down the last row and heard Hec yell their names.

“I got something!” he yelled.

They glanced at each other and rushed back to the office. When they reached Hector he was holding a paper out to them.

“I thought you might need this. It’s the name and address of my dad’s attorney. He could probably answer all your questions about the case.”

Josie took it and read the kid’s hurried cursive writing on a piece of spiral notebook paper.

“Thanks, Hec. I appreciate the information and your time today,” she said.

Otto reached out and shook the boy’s hand.

Josie said, “Hec, we’re not here because of what happened to your dad. We’re trying to figure out why Mr. Reese is missing. It might not have anything to do with your dad’s case, so I don’t want to worry you. But, if there’s anything that’s bothering you, if you’re scared, or worried about something that has to do with the case, will you call me?”

He was staring intently at her, as if trying to figure out if she was just throwing him a line, or if she was sincere.

“Have you had anyone bother you out here since your dad was taken away?” she asked.

He looked away. “No, not really.”

Josie pulled her business card out of her pocket and handed it to him. “You get police protection just like anyone else. If someone is bothering you, you call nine-one-one, or you call me directly using that card. I’m sure this whole thing has been pretty stressful.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulled his billfold out of the back of his jeans pocket and slipped the card in.





EIGHT


After interviewing Hec, Josie drove back to the office and tried to organize her notes and write a summary of the information they had collected. When she left work at 8:00 P.M. she felt as if she had little to show for the day. Too much time was passing with too few leads. The police had received no tips from anyone about Dillon’s disappearance. Otto had said rumors were beginning to surface around town that Dillon had stolen money and absconded. Josie could imagine the stories being swapped at the Hot Tamale, the diner that specialized in local gossip. She hated to think what her reaction might be when some insensitive idiot approached her with the rumor.

Before stopping at home, Josie drove up to Dell’s to give him a quick update and to collect Chester. When Josie left for work each morning, Chester made a beeline for Dell’s, where the dog spent the day on the front porch, or followed Dell around the ranch, napping in the sun as Dell did his chores.

Dell was in his barn with the front leg of a horse, bent at the knee, leaning against his thigh as he dug something out of the horseshoe. When she walked into the barn he let the horse’s leg back down to the ground and faced Josie, his expression troubled.