Page 46
Story: My One and Only
“Could you do that for me?” Jo curled her fingers into her palm, so hard that her nails bit into her skin. Relaxed them when she realized what she’d done. “My partner and I would like to come and take a look at the truck. May we do that?”
A long pause. Finally, the guy said, “Sure, I guess you can do that. But you can’t take anything from the truck.”
“We don’t want to take anything. All we’re interested in are the VIN and the license plate number.”
“I’ll hose the mud off the plates. On there pretty thick. Must have been doing some off-roading.”
“I’d really appreciate that, Cliff. We’ll see you in the next hour or so.”
“I’ll be here,” he said.
“Great. See you in a bit.” She disconnected the phone and turned to Cam. “You probably heard my side of the conversation. Our truck might be in a collision repair shop about twenty miles away. In Naperville. Sounds like the right description, and the VIN on the windshield has been scraped off. He’s going to hose the mud off the plates.” She studied him for a long moment. “You up for a road trip?”
“Hell, yeah. This is the first break we’ve caught. Let’s go see this truck.”
“Do you think you’ll remember what it looked like?”Jo asked.
Cam thought for a moment. Began to shake his head. Stopped and closed his eyes. “Probably not,” he said, looking at her. “It was a shock, and the impact made my head explode. So I wasn’t paying attention as it drove away.”
“That’s okay,” Jo said. “I got a good look at it.” She slid out from behind her desk and glanced at her phone. “We need to get going so we’re back here in time to pick up Fiona.”
Thirty-five minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of Everest Collision. Various damaged and crumpled cars listed to the side in the lot beside it. She parked off to the side, then went around and helped Cam out of her car.
When they opened the door, the familiar body shop scent of motor oil and the sharp tang of electricity washed over them. A guy wearing overalls was working on a red truck. Jo studied it. It was a Ford. Nothing like the truck that had hit Cam.
The guy looked over at them. “You Jo?”he asked.
“That’s me,” she said with a smile. She touched Cam’s arm. “This is Cam Pierce. He was driving the truck that was hit.”
“Come on in and I’ll show you the truck we’re working on,” Cliff said, wiping his hands on his overalls. “It’s in the back.”
They walked through the office and into another bay of workstations. The blue truck was in the first bay. Cliff tapped it on the rear fender. “Here it is.”
Jo and Cam walked around to the front of the truck. The grill was pushed into the engine compartment, and the right front tire was crooked. The hood had buckled, but not so much that the driver wouldn’t be able to see where he or she was going.
Jo turned to Cliff. “Do you remember when this truck was brought in?”
“Not off hand,” the mechanic answered. “But I can check.”
“We’d really appreciate that,” Jo said.
When the mechanic headed for the office, Jo opened the driver’s side door. Snapped a picture of the VIN number on the doorjamb. Then she took pictures of the front and back license plates. Cliff had been good to his word and they were free of mud. The back plate was different from the front one. Most likely both of them had been stolen.
And whoever had scraped off that VIN number from the windshield clearly didn’t realize that there were VINs in multiple locations in vehicles.
“Anything else you want to see?”Cam asked.
Jo shook her head. “I’m guessing the truck was stolen. And whoever took it probably stole plates from two different cars.” She pursed her lips. “Front plates, probably. Less likely to be noticed. But at least we have a VIN. When Mel gets me that list of trucks from the state of Illinois, I’ll start with that.”
Cliff hurried back to them and said, “This truck was driven in at ten AM three days ago.” He scowled. “Probably should have been towed in.” He nodded at the hood. “That thing could have popped up while he was driving. Could’ve caused a bad accident.”
Jo said, “Thanks so much for your help, Cliff.” She studied him for a moment. “Before you start work on this vehicle, you should call the phone number you have. I’m guessing this truck was stolen, and the guy who brought it in is going to ghost you. He’s not going to pick it up, and he’s never going to pay for your repairs.”
Cliff stared at her. “You think so?”
“Yeah. I’d call the police. This is clearly the car that hit Cam’s truck and took off. Makes it a hit and run, and that’s police business.”
Cliff nodded slowly. “Thanks for that. I’ll let the boss know. We won’t touch it until we talk to the police.”
A long pause. Finally, the guy said, “Sure, I guess you can do that. But you can’t take anything from the truck.”
“We don’t want to take anything. All we’re interested in are the VIN and the license plate number.”
“I’ll hose the mud off the plates. On there pretty thick. Must have been doing some off-roading.”
“I’d really appreciate that, Cliff. We’ll see you in the next hour or so.”
“I’ll be here,” he said.
“Great. See you in a bit.” She disconnected the phone and turned to Cam. “You probably heard my side of the conversation. Our truck might be in a collision repair shop about twenty miles away. In Naperville. Sounds like the right description, and the VIN on the windshield has been scraped off. He’s going to hose the mud off the plates.” She studied him for a long moment. “You up for a road trip?”
“Hell, yeah. This is the first break we’ve caught. Let’s go see this truck.”
“Do you think you’ll remember what it looked like?”Jo asked.
Cam thought for a moment. Began to shake his head. Stopped and closed his eyes. “Probably not,” he said, looking at her. “It was a shock, and the impact made my head explode. So I wasn’t paying attention as it drove away.”
“That’s okay,” Jo said. “I got a good look at it.” She slid out from behind her desk and glanced at her phone. “We need to get going so we’re back here in time to pick up Fiona.”
Thirty-five minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of Everest Collision. Various damaged and crumpled cars listed to the side in the lot beside it. She parked off to the side, then went around and helped Cam out of her car.
When they opened the door, the familiar body shop scent of motor oil and the sharp tang of electricity washed over them. A guy wearing overalls was working on a red truck. Jo studied it. It was a Ford. Nothing like the truck that had hit Cam.
The guy looked over at them. “You Jo?”he asked.
“That’s me,” she said with a smile. She touched Cam’s arm. “This is Cam Pierce. He was driving the truck that was hit.”
“Come on in and I’ll show you the truck we’re working on,” Cliff said, wiping his hands on his overalls. “It’s in the back.”
They walked through the office and into another bay of workstations. The blue truck was in the first bay. Cliff tapped it on the rear fender. “Here it is.”
Jo and Cam walked around to the front of the truck. The grill was pushed into the engine compartment, and the right front tire was crooked. The hood had buckled, but not so much that the driver wouldn’t be able to see where he or she was going.
Jo turned to Cliff. “Do you remember when this truck was brought in?”
“Not off hand,” the mechanic answered. “But I can check.”
“We’d really appreciate that,” Jo said.
When the mechanic headed for the office, Jo opened the driver’s side door. Snapped a picture of the VIN number on the doorjamb. Then she took pictures of the front and back license plates. Cliff had been good to his word and they were free of mud. The back plate was different from the front one. Most likely both of them had been stolen.
And whoever had scraped off that VIN number from the windshield clearly didn’t realize that there were VINs in multiple locations in vehicles.
“Anything else you want to see?”Cam asked.
Jo shook her head. “I’m guessing the truck was stolen. And whoever took it probably stole plates from two different cars.” She pursed her lips. “Front plates, probably. Less likely to be noticed. But at least we have a VIN. When Mel gets me that list of trucks from the state of Illinois, I’ll start with that.”
Cliff hurried back to them and said, “This truck was driven in at ten AM three days ago.” He scowled. “Probably should have been towed in.” He nodded at the hood. “That thing could have popped up while he was driving. Could’ve caused a bad accident.”
Jo said, “Thanks so much for your help, Cliff.” She studied him for a moment. “Before you start work on this vehicle, you should call the phone number you have. I’m guessing this truck was stolen, and the guy who brought it in is going to ghost you. He’s not going to pick it up, and he’s never going to pay for your repairs.”
Cliff stared at her. “You think so?”
“Yeah. I’d call the police. This is clearly the car that hit Cam’s truck and took off. Makes it a hit and run, and that’s police business.”
Cliff nodded slowly. “Thanks for that. I’ll let the boss know. We won’t touch it until we talk to the police.”
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