Cut and Run(27)

“You see that?” Hayden said. “That was no accident.”

“I got a partial on the plate along with the make and model,” Brogan responded. “Running it now.”

Ten minutes later, they had the name of the owner of the vehicle, a 2008 Ford truck that had been reported stolen several hours before.

“The truck belongs to Randy Kelly. He lives in North Austin. He’s been arrested for selling narcotics and is currently on probation.”

“Let’s have a talk with him,” Hayden said, reaching for his jacket.



Hayden and Brogan drove to the North Austin neighborhood and to Randy Kelly’s apartment building. They climbed to the second floor and banged on his door. Inside they heard footsteps, muttered oaths, and a lock turn. “Who is it?”

“Texas Rangers. We’re looking for Randy Kelly.”

Two more locks clicked, and the door opened. The guy who stood before them was shirtless, wore jeans, and his hair stuck up. “That’s me. You find the truck?”

“Mind if we come in, Mr. Kelly?” Hayden asked. “I have questions.”

Kelly nodded and stepped back. “Is my truck okay?”

“Your truck was used in a crime we’re investigating.”

“Shit,” Kelly whispered as he pulled on a shirt that had been on the floor.

Kelly’s one-room apartment had a Murphy bed, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. Several action-movie posters decorated the walls, a couple of pizza boxes were stacked on the kitchen counter, and dirty clothes were scattered on the floor around a card table holding a laptop.

“Where did you last park your truck?” Hayden asked.

“I work construction and odd jobs. I slipped into a bar to get a beer yesterday evening, and when I came out, the truck was gone.”

“What is the name of the bar, and where is it?” Hayden asked.

“It’s in East Austin. Rodney’s on Linden. I parked the car on Seventh Street and went in for a couple of hours. I came out around eleven and no truck. I called the cops right away.”

“You’re sure about where you parked your truck?” Brogan asked.

“Yeah. I’d had a few beers, but I was in good shape when I came out. I know where I parked my truck. I was supposed to work today, so I couldn’t get plowed. You said it was used in a crime?”

“In a hit-and-run accident sometime after midnight,” Hayden said.

“Shit,” Kelly hissed.

“Does anyone else have keys to your truck?” Hayden asked.

“No. It’s mine.” He scratched his head. “It’s ten years old, and it doesn’t run that well. But it’s paid for and gets the job done. Who was hit?”

“A woman.”

“Is she going to be all right?”

“I don’t know. And you can prove you were here the entire time?”

Kelly shook his head slowly. “I called the cops, gave my report about eleven thirty, and then came home. There will be a record of the car service. I was asleep by twelve thirty.”

“Where were you on Sunday?” Jack’s murder and Macy’s attack happening so close together couldn’t be a coincidence.

“On a roof in north Travis County. I arrived at five a.m. and worked until sunset.”

Hayden would check out the man’s story but was inclined to believe him. “All right, Mr. Kelly. I might double back with more questions.”

“What about my truck?” Kelly asked.

“If and when we find it, it’ll be impounded as evidence. So we’ll have to hang on to it for a while,” Hayden offered with no remorse.

Kelly shook his head. “What am I supposed to do in the interim?”

“You’ll have to make other transportation arrangements.”

As they left to the sound of Kelly grumbling curses, Brogan made a call to dispatch, putting out a BOLO on the vehicle. His next call to the city’s uniformed division was for a search of cameras near Rodney’s on Linden. With any luck, they’d find footage of the car theft.



When Faith arrived at her office, Nancy was waiting for her with lab results from autopsies done three weeks ago, several messages from police officers with questions about pending cases, and the schedule for tomorrow.

“Good, you made it back,” Nancy said. “It’s going to be a crazy afternoon.”

“What’s happening?” The buzz and noise of the office normally excited her, but right now it felt like an annoying intrusion.

“We have a death that appears to be an ATV accident,” Nancy said. “The victim is a twelve-year-old male, and the family is torn up and looking for some kind of closure.”

Whatever worries had been plaguing her vanished as she focused on caring for this child. “All right. What about a possible hit-and-run? Female. Did she arrive here yet?”

“We’ve not seen any case like that yet. What do you know that I don’t?” Nancy asked.

She was more relieved than she’d expected. “Good.”

Nancy studied her. “You all right?”

“Long night. Bad sleep.” She smiled.

“Let me talk to Dr. Ryland,” Nancy said. “I might be able to talk him into taking the ATV case.”