Page 162 of Dead Man's List

Kit crossed the fingers of both hands. “Be an Amazon truck. Please be an Amazon truck.”

Connor laughed. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m an optimist.” She watched as the vehicle drove past. “Turn around.”

“Not an Amazon truck, Kit.”

“But itisa tow truck. Maybe they’ve seen something. The driver might be on this road a lot.”

Connor heaved a heavy sigh and pulled onto the sliver of a shoulder, doing a three-point-turn. “Better hope nobody comes along and T-bones us.”

Kit crossed the fingers of both hands again, making Connor laugh once more.

They got turned around and pursued the tow truck. Connor flashed his high beams, but the truck didn’t budge.

Finally, Kit put the flashing light on the roof of the car and the tow truck slowed to a stop.

Both Kit and Connor got out of the car hands up to show that they weren’t armed. Their guns were holstered.

The driver rolled down his window. “What’s the problem?” he asked gruffly. “You need assistance?”

“No,” Kit said. “Or at least we don’t need a tow. I’m Detective McKittrick and this is Detective Robinson. We’re with San Diego PD.”

The driver gave them a long, assessing look. “Kind of far from home.”

“A bit,” Kit agreed. “We’re looking for a specific vehicle that may have come this way last week.”

The tow truck driver gave them an incredulous look, like they were insane but he wasn’t about to say so. “Which vehicle?”

“A tan Chevy Suburban,” Connor said. “He was pulling a trailer.”

He took out his phone and showed the driver the photo he’d taken of the gas station owner’s feed.

The driver shook his head. “Haven’t seen the trailer, but there’s a Suburban driving this road sometimes. Usually on the weekends. He had a flat once and I changed his tire.”

“What did he look like?” she asked.

“Average, I guess. Except for his beard. Looked like Bigfoot. Nice fella, though. Tipped me big for changing his tire and paid cash for my spare. He didn’t have one with him.”

“Do you know where he lives?” Kit asked, trying not to hold her breath.

“Nope.” The driver scratched the back of his head. “Or maybe…” He thought some more, then shrugged. “It was along this road somewhere. Between here and Julian.” He squinted out his windshield. “I followed him for a while, just to make sure he was okay. He pulled over, waved me to go on. I guess he was nervous about a stranger following him.”

“Then how do you know it was between here and Julian?” Connor asked.

“Because I got another call for a tow and had to turn around. Never passed him. I’d say he pulled into one of these driveways within no more than five miles from here. If that.”

“Thank you,” Kit said. “We appreciate it.” She gave him one of her business cards and Connor did the same. “If you think of anything else, please let us know.”

The driver nodded soberly. “I will.”

“Thank you.” Kit had to force herself not to dance a jig. “Have a good evening.”

She waited until she and Connor were back in the car before gloating. “Optimism for the win!”

Connor laughed, turned the car around, and started driving again. “Keep crossing your fingers. It seems to beworking.”

Chapter Nineteen

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