Page 21 of One Final Target

Uniformed officers were waiting with a tow truck when Smiley and Sam arrived.

“Did you find anyone who saw anything?” Smiley asked.

“A worker from the fence company said he saw a guy get out of the car and climb into a waiting car. Then he drove south on Sierra.”

“Another car?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, he didn’t know what kind of car, said he only glanced at it. Blue four-door SUV was all he would commit to.”

“Did he see the driver?”

The officer shook his head. “He thought the guy who dumped the Honda was a white male, but he wasn’t sure. Like I said, it was only a passing glance. I leaned on him, but he just wasn’t sure.”

Sam and Smiley put on gloves. Sam took the driver’s side, Smiley the passenger side. This model Honda was notoriously easy to steal. No windows were broken, and there was no sign of forced entry, so the thief probably had a key that worked in the door. As for the ignition, it had been punched, and there was a screwdriver in the steering column. Sam saw a steering wheel lock in the back seat behind the driver’s seat. He checked it out. It had been expertly picked.

There was very little rubbish in the car. All of the upholstery was worn but clean. When he finished going through the car, he wasn’t optimistic they’d get anything from it. Smiley put aHold for printssign on the hood and told the tow they could take the car. They then headed to the victim’s address.

Doug Taylor’s residence was on a triangular piece of land bordered by East Forty-Eighth Street, Sierra Way, and Leroy Street. East Forty-Eighth Street bisected North Waterman, which became Rim of the World Highway as it traversed Waterman Canyon and led up to the mountain resorts. Since the suspect apparently wanted quick access to the mountain, it made sense to steal a car from here.

Taylor was waiting for them when they parked. He approached as they got out of their car. “Hey, I got a call my car was recovered. When do I get it back?”

“Mr. Doug Taylor?” Smiley held his hand out.

“Right here.” He grudgingly shook Smiley’s hand. “I need my car. I’m going to school in Loma Linda to be a respiratory therapist. I can’t miss. This is my shot at a good job.”

Sam felt for the man. Loma Linda was about ten miles from here, not easy to traverse without a car.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Taylor. Your vehicle is being processed for evidence.”

“Yeah, I heard about the cop getting shot, and I’m sorry. But I did what I was supposed to do: I reported my car stolen. I’m the victim here—I need my car.”

“We’ll do what we can to get the car back to you as soon as possible,” Sam said. “Can you show us where it was parked? Do you have any idea who would have stolen it?”

“Nah, man, if I knew who, I’d deal with it. It was parked in my assigned space—” he pointed—“back here behind the complex.”

The three of them walked to the rear of the complex.

“Will your insurance spring for a rental?” Sam asked while he searched the area for cameras. He counted three in the lot by the time they reached the empty parking space, but none of the security cameras were trained directly on the spot where the Honda was usually parked.

Doug shook his head. “I just had the bare minimum. Been saving to put myself through school. I had a steering wheel lock, thought it would stop thieves. Guess not.”

“No neighbors heard or saw anything?” Smiley asked.

“No one saw anything. Most people are probably afraid some gangster took it. They don’t want to get involved if that’s the case.”

“Do you think a gangster took it?” Sam asked.

Doug held his gaze. “No, I don’t. I keep my distance from thebad boys around here. I stay away from their stuff; they stay away from mine. Plus, an old beater Honda isn’t high on the list of cars that would be parted out.”

Sam nodded. True. The stolen vehicle trade trafficked in high-end vehicles they could strip and sell for parts. Or they just stole parts. The rise in thefts of catalytic converters from parked cars was astounding. No, the guy who took Doug’s car needed it to get from pointA to pointB.

“I just had to get a rental.” Sam pulled a card out of his pocket. “My friend works as a rental agent. Give him a call, tell him Sam sent you, and he’ll give you a good deal. Hopefully the lab will only keep your car a couple of days.”

Doug took the card. “It’d have to be a rock-bottom deal.”

“It will be.” He pointed toward one of the cameras. “There are surveillance cameras here. Did they film the theft?”

“They’re always broken. I asked the manager; on one camera all you can see is the back of the car leaving the lot about an hour before I came down and found it gone.”

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