Page 15 of My One and Only (Blackhawk Security #10)

J o chewed a bite of her mac and cheese as she studied the last number on her list. This repair shop was the farthest away from Ogden, and she thought it was unlikely that the owner of that blue truck had gone more than twenty miles to get it repaired. But she swallowed the last of her lunch, took a drink of water and called the shop’s number.

“Everest Collision,” a voice said. “This is Cliff.”

“Hi, Cliff. My name is Jo Hatch. I’m investigating a hit and run collision that involved a blue Dodge Ram truck. Dark blue, recent model. One door on each side of the cab. It should have some front-end damage, but not enough to make it undrivable.”

“Yeah, we got a truck like that in the shop,” Cliff replied slowly.

Her heart pounding, Jo asked, “Do you have a name or a phone number for the owner?”

The guy on the other end of the line huffed. “We got a name, but if it’s the guy’s real name, I’ll eat my shirt. Bob Jones.”

“Can I have the phone number?” Jo asked.

There was a long silence. “Not sure if I can do that,” the repair guy said. “I’ll have to ask the boss. He’s not here right now.”

“How about the VIN or the license plate number?”

“Vin’s scraped off. I could find the one on the firewall in the engine compartment, or the driver’s side door jamb, though.”

“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.”

“Good idea. Do you want my phone number and Cam’s?” I witnessed the accident, and he was driving the truck at the time.”

“Yeah. That’d be a good idea.” He jerked his head in the direction of the office. “I’ll get your info before you go.”

Ten minutes later, they were heading back to Ogden. Cam glanced at Jo. “Why would the guy who hit me drive the truck all the way to a repair shop in Naperville? Why not just abandon it on a street in a bad part of Aurora. Let the scavengers have it for parts.”

“Probably because the police would notice that it was abandoned, they’d check police reports of accidents and realize it was likely the truck that hit you. By taking it to a repair shop, the perpetrator made sure it was off the street. They had no intention of picking it up. Probably figured the police wouldn’t check a repair shop so far away from Ogden, so the truck would just sit in a bay. Or on the lot, safely hidden until the accident was forgotten.”

Jo saw Cam glance at his phone, then slide it into his pocket. “We okay on time for picking up Fiona?” she asked.

“Yeah, we should get to her school about fifteen minutes before the kids are dismissed.”

“Perfect,” Jo said. “That gives us time to talk to the principal.”

* * *

When they pulled into the school parking lot, there was a long line of cars on the street, curling around a curve in the road and disappearing from sight. Jo studied it, fascinated. “Does your mom wait in that line every day?” she asked.

“I guess so. That’s how the pickup works. If it’s raining or cold, the kids wait inside until they see their car.” He glanced at her. “I’ll tell the principal to have Fiona meet us outside her office.”

“Good idea. I don’t want her outside on her own.”

After parking her car, Jo and Cam walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. A uniformed security guard pushed a button and spoke into an intercom. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Fiona Pierce’s father,” Cam said, bending to the speaker. “I need to talk to the principal.”

The guard studied him for a long moment. “Can I see some ID?”

Cam pulled out his wallet and held up his driver’s license. The guard looked from the license to Cam, back to the license. “Okay, come on it.”

He unlocked the door and pulled it open wide enough for them to walk inside, then locked it behind them. Jo was happy to see his attention to detail and how seriously they took precautions. “Down the hall to the right. You’ll see the office,” he said.

Jo walked beside Cam until they reached the office with the “Principal” sign on it. Opening the door, they walked in and found a woman sitting at a desk in an outer office. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m Cameron Pierce, Fiona Pierce’s father,” Cam said. “This is Jo Hatch. We need to speak with the principal.”

“Regarding?” the woman asked.

“My daughter Fiona,” Cam said. “She’s in first grade.”

The receptionist nodded, stood up and stepped into the inner office. Moments later, she opened the door and waved them inside.

The principal -- Janice Morrison, according to the sign on her desk -- was a middle-aged blond. She smiled at Cam and Jo and said, “Please have a seat and tell me how I can help you.”

After sitting down, Cam said, “This is Jo Hatch. She’s my bodyguard.” Morrison flinched and looked more carefully at Jo.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jo said. “Cam was in a hit-and-run accident four days ago. He was clearly targeted -- the truck that hit him was waiting for him. He or she drove into the intersection, sped up as he approached Cam’s truck and took off after the impact.”

Morrison switched her gaze to Cam. “Were you injured, Mr. Pierce?” she asked.

“Concussion,” Cam said. “Still recovering.”

“Because of the attack on Cam,” Jo said smoothly, “We’re concerned about Fiona’s safety, as well. We wanted to alert you to the problem so you can take the proper precautions.”

“Willow School has very good security,” Morrison said, her gaze switching from Cam to Jo and back to Cam. “You saw the guard at the front door. All the doors in the school remain locked at all times, and no one gets into the school without an ID and a valid reason for being here.

“When there are children on the playground, there are two teachers out there with them. Children who are being picked up wait inside or near the front door until their parents’ cars pull up to the curb. And when children live close enough to walk home, we require that a parent or guardian come to the school, pick them up and escort them home.”

Cam relaxed into his seat. “That all sounds great, Ms. Morrison,” he said. “It sounds as if you’ve given a lot of thought to security. The only other thing I’d like to ask is that you call me if anyone besides myself, Ms. Hatch or my mother or father come here and want to pick Fiona up.”

Morrison nodded. “We’ll do that,” she said. “In general, we only let parents pick up their children unless they let us know ahead of time that someone else will be fetching them. Cameron, you probably remember letting us know your mother or father would be picking up Fiona.”

“I do,” he said. “But I wanted to make sure you were aware of the situation.”

“I appreciate that.” She leaned toward them. “Howard, our security guard, is very good. He’s quite vigilant, and if he sees an adult loitering on school property, he calls the police. They respond very quickly.”

“All your precautions reassure me,” Cam said. “Ms. Hatch and I will be picking up Fiona for the foreseeable future. For today, would it be possible for you to let Fiona’s teacher know that we’ll meet her in the lobby?”

“I can do that,” Morrison said with a smile. “But it’s pretty hectic out there when the bell rings. That’s why our security guard and two teachers are always out there. Why don’t you wait in the outer office for Fiona? I’ll call her teacher and have her send Fiona to my office.”

“Thanks again, Ms. Morrison,” Cam said, standing up. “I appreciate your time.”

“I hope you get your situation resolved soon,” the principal said. “For all of your sakes.”

“We do, too,” Cam said. He waited for Jo to stand, then they stepped into the outer office. Jo spotted two chairs against the wall, and she urged Cam into one of them.

A couple of minutes later, a bell rang and the chatter and laughing of children rose in the hall outside their door. It only took a few minutes for children to pour into the hall and toward the exit door. Soon, a steady stream of children hurried past the office.

The outer door opened suddenly and Fiona stepped inside. When she spotted her father, her shoulders relaxed and she smiled at him.

“Daddy!” she said. “How come you’re picking me up?”

“Jo and I are going to pick you up every day,” he said, squatting down to hug his daughter. Running his hand over her blond hair, he said, “I was just letting Ms. Morrison know that I’d be picking you up for a while. She likes to know that kind of thing.”

Fiona nodded. “She’s very strict about that,” she said.

“And that’s a good thing,” Cam said. Glancing into the lobby, he said, “As soon as there are fewer people there, we’ll get into Jo’s car and go home.”

“Did you bring my car seat?” Fiona asked.

Jo looked at Cam, who had a horrified look on his face. “No,” he said. “I didn’t think of it. But we’ll be fine for today. We’ll stay on the side streets and Jo will drive very slowly.”

Fiona looked up at her. “You promise, Ms. Jo?”

“Absolutely,” she assured Fiona. “And I’ll get a car seat today so that both my car and your dad’s truck have a safe way for you to ride.”

“There’s a Costco on the way home,” Cam said quietly. “We can stop there.”

“Sorry,” Jo murmured. “I didn’t even think about a car seat.”

“Not your job to think of that,” Cam said.

“Yeah, it is.” She glanced at Fiona, who was waving at two girls walking to a car. “My job is to keep both of you safe. And that includes having a car seat.”

“Okay, we’ll stop at Costco.” He smiled. “Fiona loves going there. Especially if they’re giving out samples.”

Forty-five minutes later, Jo’s car now sporting a car seat, they pulled into Cam’s driveway. Cam leaned closer and said, “Go in and check the house. I’ll get her out of the car seat.”

Jo frowned. She didn’t like having her principal out of her sight, but it was either that or explain to Fiona why Jo was searching their house. “Okay, but get her inside the front door as fast as possible,” she muttered.

Standing beside the car, she studied the street but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Same with the sidewalks on either side of the street.

She searched the house quickly, then waited while Fiona walked to the door, her huge purple Frozen backpack slung over one shoulder and bouncing against her butt. Jo held the door open and shepherded Fiona and her father through the front door.

“Is there a basement?” she asked quietly as Fiona dropped her backpack on the living room floor and ran into the kitchen.

“Yeah. There’s a door off the kitchen that leads down there.”

“Go ahead and do whatever you normally do after school while I check the basement.”

Cam frowned. “I have no idea what my mom does with Fi after school.”

Jo smiled. “I’m sure she’ll tell you.” She headed for the kitchen and opened the door to the darkened basement. She fumbled for the light switch and flipped it on.

She walked slowly down the stairs and found a tidy, well-illuminated basement. One area was clearly a play space for Fiona. There was a table and four chairs, and bookshelves that held brightly colored bins. A furnace sat in the middle of the room, with a washer and dryer against one wall. The back of the basement held a workbench filled with various tools, and planks of wood were stacked against the wall beside it. Cam also had a desk against one wall.

Assured that everything was in order, Jo ran up the stairs, her shoes echoing on the wood. Fiona and Cam were in the kitchen. Fiona sat at the kitchen table, eating a piece of orange cheese and a few apple slices.

When Cam spotted her, he asked, “You want a snack?”

“I wouldn’t mind an apple,” she said.

“Sit beside me,” Fiona said, patting the table as she swallowed a huge mouthful of cheese. “We can eat our apples together.”

Jo’s gaze darted between Fiona and Cam. Cam didn’t look happy, but she wasn’t about to tell Fiona she didn’t want to sit with her. Jo slid into the seat beside Fiona, and Fiona handed her a slice of apple. As Jo crunched into it, she saw Cam scowling at her from the other side of the room.

After Fiona was in bed tonight, she and Cam would have a little talk about her and Fiona.