Page 19 of Dirty Minds

“Sorry,” Darnell said again. “I’m nervous. I’ve never talked to the cops before.”

“Just relax,” I told him. “Cops are just people. Mostly.”

Darnell laughed nervously. “Yeah, right.”

J.D. rolled his eyes. “The last time we saw Bobby was before the shooting started. All three of us were parking cars. We were starting to get backed up, so things were kind of fast and furious. I was just about to leave the parking garage to come get another car when the shooting started.”

“Where were you?” Jack asked Darnell.

“I’d just gotten in one of the new Broncos,” Darnell said. “Bright yellow. Fully loaded and sweet as they come. I was pulling up to the stop sign on the corner when that black SUV rolled by and opened fire.”

“Did you see the shooter?” I asked.

“Nah, the angle was wrong. I couldn’t see the driver’s side. Just caught the back end.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with Bobby,” Jack said. “Where was he when the shooting started?”

“I’m not sure,” J.D. said, “I thought he was right behind me in the parking garage, but I guess he wasn’t. We looked for him, and I was afraid maybe he’d been on the sidewalk and been hit.”

“I even tried his cell phone,” Darnell said. “Went straight to voicemail.”

“Maybe he just went home after he gave his statement,” I said.

“That’s what we’re trying to tell you,” Darnell said. “We looked everywhere for him. And we’re pretty sure that black SUV the shooter used was parked in the garage. The owner of it came and turned in his claim check, but it was gone from the numbered spot we’d marked on the ticket.”

Jack’s brows rose in surprise. “Word of advice,” he said. “Next time lead off with that information.”

“Y’all think Bobby could’ve been the shooter?” I asked.

Darnell and J.D. looked at each other with concern etched across their faces.

Denaro came back over at that moment with a thin file folder and he handed it to Jack. “Bobby’s personnel file,” Denaro said. “Not much info in there, but it’s all the paperwork he filled out when I hired him. We only valet Thursday through Sunday, so all these guys have other jobs during the week. Bobby was no different.

“What was his daytime job?” Jack asked.

“Contracting,” J.D. said. “He’s a painter. Works for Miller Construction. They’re the ones putting up that new subdivision over on Reformation Street.”

“Thanks,” Jack said to Denaro. “This saves me a lot of time.”

“I heard what you were saying to that other cop earlier,” Denaro said. “You’re gonna want to read what’s in there. Told you it wasn’t my family. Here’s the list, by the way.” He took out a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to Jack.

Jack put the paper in his pocket and opened the personnel file, scanning the pages quickly. And then he looked up in surprise. “Bobby was a veteran?”

“One of the reasons I hired him,” Denaro said. “I like hiring veterans when I can. He seemed like a good kid, so I don’t want to make assumptions about anything that might be a coincidence. But I’d feel better if maybe someone swung by his place and made sure he was okay. Maybe he just got freaked out by the gunfire and took off. PTSD or something.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “We’ll swing by and do a welfare check.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Denaro said. “You boys go on home if the sheriff is done with you. I’m sure your women are worried and will want to show you their appreciation that you’re still alive.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” J.D. said, scooting out of the booth.

Darnell sighed, looking terribly forlorn. “I’m in between ladies at the moment. And I really needed this job. I’m saving for my own place. I’m gonna have to find another restaurant I can pick up some shifts.”

Denaro slapped Darnell on the back good-naturedly. “We’ll be back up and running in a couple weeks. I’ve got Joey Wizard and a top-notch construction crew. You don’t grow up like I did and not have a crew in your back pocket. We’ll be back in business in no time. You boys take a couple of weeks off and do what young people do. Work will be here when you come back. Isn’t that right, sheriff?”

Jack nodded and said, “Thanks again for the file.” And then we headed out of the Purple Pig for the final time that night.

CHAPTERSIX

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