Read Online For Whom the Minivan Rolls by JEFFREY COHEN - Free Book Online Page B

so I spoke directly to Barry. “Did your guys find the
minivan?”
    “In this town, you want us to find one minivan?”
Dutton smiled. Westbrook scowled, probably because I hadn’t offered
to polish his detective’s shield when I came in.
    “You’re telling me you couldn’t
find. . .”
    “We found it,” Barry said. “The plates are stolen.
We’re tracking the ID number. And the van was empty when we got to
it.” Dutton sat back in his chair and every once in a while flipped
his eyes toward Westbrook, trying to remind me to include him in
the conversation.
    “Did you find anyone suspicious walking nearby?”
    “Gee, Tucker, you gonna tell us how to do our jobs
now?” Westbrook decided that if I wasn’t going to include him, he’d
include himself. As usual, he did so with the subtlety of a tank
battalion.
    “Yeah, that’s it, Westbrook. I’m not concerned about
someone following me down the street with possible intentions of
harming me. No. What I’m worried about is hurting your feelings.
Always a top priority.”
    “When you have twenty years in on this job,
Tucker. . .”
    “I’ll be about six grades above you, Westbrook.”
    “You little. . .”
    Barry smacked his hands on his desk, palms down, to
silence us, and it worked. He stood up, glaring at both of us.
    “Do I have to separate you two, and write on your
report cards that you don’t play well with others?”
    “Sorry, Barry,” I mumbled. I thought of looking at
my shoes for a while, but decided that would be too
over-the-top.
    “Chief,” said Westbrook. It was hard to know what
that meant. I considered telling Westbrook not to call Barry
“Chief,” but decided that might not be what Barry had in mind about
getting along, and all that. I stayed quiet.
    “Here’s what we have,” Dutton continued. “We have a
missing woman who hasn’t contacted her family in a week. We have a
husband who’s not exactly cooperative. We have speculation that the
woman’s disappearance might be tied to the Rachel Barlow campaign
for mayor. We have a blue minivan with stolen license tags
following a private citizen down the street for no apparent
reason.”
    I interrupted. “Rachel Barlow also told me that
Madlyn had been getting threatening phone calls, from outside the
Verizon coverage area, for a few weeks before she disappeared. That
sound familiar?”
    “If you hadn’t interrupted,” Dutton added with the
trace of a gleam in his eye, “I was about to say that we have all
those things I listed, plus a call to your home the other night,
Aaron, from the cellular phone of a Mr. Arthur P. MacKenzie of
Emmaus, Pennsylvania.”
    I searched my brain, taking in the information. “Who
the hell is Arthur P. MacKenzie of. . . where?”
    “Emmaus, Pennsylvania.”
    “Emmaus? Sounds like a cyber-rodent.”
    “Come on, tell the truth,” Dutton said. “You just
needed the time to think up that joke, didn’t you?”
    “No, I honestly can’t think of an Arthur MacKenzie.
Why in God’s name would he call me up and threaten me?”
    “The very question we’ll ask when we get the
Pennsylvania State Trooper to go out and talk to him,” Westbrook
said.
    I immediately decided that was a bad idea, but I
couldn’t be sure if I thought that just because it was Westbrook’s.
I looked at Dutton.
    “Barry,” I said, “could we maybe keep the
Pennsylvania boys out of it for the time being? We don’t really
know what we’re looking for, and a trooper at the door is going to
scare off this MacKenzie guy before we find out anything.”
    Barry’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I can’t spare
Westbrook to drive all the way out to Pennsylvania. You know,
someone else might commit a crime while he was gone. Not to mention
the travel voucher that the new mayor, if she’s elected, might
consider a waste of the taxpayer’s money.”
    “I was thinking maybe I’d go myself,” I said.
    Westbrook snorted.
    “What was that, Gerry?” I said. “I couldn’t