“Sounds like a plan,” I said.
Outside I saw that the truck from Shiffley Towing had arrived, and Osgood Shiffley was hooking it up to Denton’s old Chevy. I waved at him as I plodded toward the south parking lot.
As I expected, my van was an oven. I started it, rolled down all the windows, turned the fan on full blast, and then set the parking brake so I could step out and wait for the fan to blow out the worst of the hot air. I pulled out my cell phone to call Michael, then decided to wait a little while. If I called now, the shakiness in my voice might worry him.
A car drove up to the front door of the Inn and one of the bellhops stepped out. Leonard Fisher strode out of the hotel’s front door, pressed a tip into the bellhop’s hand, and drove off.
I watched him go with narrowed eyes. Just because he was the friendliest of the lender’s minions didn’t actually mean he was a good guy. Maybe he was just the designated good cop to the Flying Monkeys’ bad cops.
Over at the far end of the lot, Osgood had finished hooking Denton’s Chevy up to the tow truck and had stopped to take a long pull on a plastic water bottle.
Water. I’d finished most of my pitcher in the hotel, but I already felt parched again. I could get a bottle at the hotel gift shop. Or poach some from Caroline’s pitcher. I stepped into the van and drove up to replace Fisher at the front door.
Fisher drove out at a faster pace than I’d have taken, spraying little bits of superheated white gravel behind him. Osgood Shiffley was lumbering across the parking lot at a more stately pace, so Fisher beat him to the exit and gunned his car on the asphalt driveway.
Caroline met me at the curb.
“Damn,” she said. “They’re towing Denton’s car. I was hoping we could search it before we left.”
“I doubt if he left anything interesting in it,” I said. “And if he did, what are the odds the Flying Monkeys didn’t already get it?”
“Not good,” she admitted.
“I’m going to run in to get some water,” I said. “I’ll leave the car running so you’ll have the air conditioning.”
“I don’t suppose you want to run over and ask Osgood to stop and let us have a look at the car?” she asked.
“No, I don’t,” I said. Osgood had reached the asphalt of the driveway now. “I plan to call Randall to see if we can ransack it once it gets to the impound lot.”
“Good thinking,” Caroline said. “Do you suppose—”
Just then Osgood accelerated and Denton’s car exploded.
Chapter 29
“Call 911!” I shouted to Caroline as I dashed across the lot. “And stay back!”
“You stay back, too!” she shouted.
“Someone needs to check on Osgood.”
We’d both been frozen for the first few moments, as bits of glass and metal rained down on the parking lot. Denton’s car—what was left of it—was burning now, and since it was between me and the tow truck, I couldn’t see what had happened to Osgood.
The explosion had set off the alarms in four or five of the cars in the south parking lot, but so far Caroline and I were the only people visible on the scene.
I made a wide circle around the burning car. To my relief, the tow truck wasn’t totaled. The towing end of it was pretty badly damaged, but the cab was intact, and Osgood was sitting in it, blinking, looking stunned.
“Are you okay?” I had to shout to be heard over the car alarms and the roaring noise of the fire.
“What?”
Oh, great. I suspected he was temporarily deafened by the explosion. At least I hoped it would be temporary. But I figured it would be a good idea for both of us to get away from the car and the truck, in case the truck was about to explode, too. I opened the driver’s side door and jerked my thumb over my shoulder in what I hoped was a pretty obvious “move it!” gesture. Osgood got it. He scrambled down from the cab and began half-walking, half-staggering away from the tow truck. He kept stopping to look back at the wreckage, and every time he did it, I’d tug at his arm again.
By the time we reached the hotel entrance, several guests and hotel staffers were standing on the sidewalk, gawking at the fire.
“Police, fire, and ambulance are on their way,” Caroline said. “Osgood, are you okay?”
“My truck,” Osgood said. “My truck.” Knowing how he felt about his tow truck, I wasn’t sure this was a non sequitur.
“Is the driveway completely blocked?” Caroline asked.
“I have no idea,” I said. “Were you about to suggest that we try to sneak away before the chief gets here?”
She sighed.