“How much do you think the whole scheme made?” Franny inquired, ever interested in profit.
“Millions. We can only work off percentages—in other words, the cost of genuine manufacturing parts versus the cost of knockoffs—but the profit is huge.”
“So Latigo sent clients to Victor?” Fair finished his steak, thinking he’d done a great job, which he had.
“He did. Both men profited handsomely, obviously. Jason indicated that first Walt got greedy, then Nick and Bobby wanted more. Nick stupidly threatened to tell the media about the Chinese parts, the whole scam. A collision-repair shop is under no obligation to identify whether parts are from the original manufacturer or aftermarket. All Victor had to do was undercut his competition by fifteen percent. Latigo referred everyone to Victor. Both made a lot of money.” Cooper then pointed to Harry. “What really tipped you off? You were ahead of us.”
“When Herb’s truck was declared a total wreck, I knew it had many years left. That’s why I went to the lot and pulled out the radiator. I knew it wasn’t right, because the drill holes to fit it had been altered. They were elliptical, and for that I thank Dabney Farnese. When he came to repair the John Deere, he told me about substandard parts for tractors, especially the holes. He said they were dead giveaway signs, because a substandard replacement part never fit exactly right. The holes had to be altered, and he said those alterations tend to be elliptical instead of perfectly round.
“So that was it? My radiator.” Reverend Jones reached for a cupcake with thick vanilla icing.
“But I became surer about my theory when I drove over to Haldane’s Salvage and Millie Haldane showed me cracked wheels, two of which were on Tara Meola’s Explorer on the lot for scrap. Safe and Sound uses Millie’s salvage yard. That lady knows a whole lot. By the time I left there, I knew, I just knew, but I couldn’t prove that Safe and Sound was behind it. If Tara’s Explorer had had true Ford wheels, there was a chance she might have lived when she veered off the road. The copycat wheels cracked.
“And when Miranda went off the road, it was a wheel problem. She’d had that wheel replaced the year before.”
“Where is Miranda?” Franny loved the older lady.
“Choir practice. Her choir has been asked to sing at the swearing-in ceremony on the Fourth of July at Monticello.” Harry mentioned a moving event at Mr. Jefferson’s home, where people became American citizens.
“What an honor.” Alicia smiled.
“She has a solo, too. That beautiful, beautiful voice,” Reverend Jones added.
“Why did declaring Herb’s truck a total loss alert you?” Franny was curious.
“No investigation when a vehicle is declared totaled. My curiosity must have set off those two. They didn’t want me to go over the truck. I mean, Victor towed the Chevy out of St. Luke’s right away. I should have smelled a rat when he dropped off the WRX STI. He had a tracking device in the car. He knew my every move in that Subaru. I never imagined that. I was really dumb.”
“Well, stubborn is closer to the mark,” BoomBoom said.
“I was too dazzled by the WRX STI. It was easy to track me—you can watch a person’s movements on your phone GPS; hunting guys even get map printouts with their dogs’ trails overlaid on them. That’s what they did to me. When they knew I was in an isolated place where they could get me, they did. They’d obviously shadowed me to Millie’s and knew I was getting close to the truth.”
Reverend Jones thought out loud. “Greed, one of the seven deadly sins. You might have been the fourth victim.”
“Thank God my baby can drive,” Fair said. “She’s the NASCAR type.” He wiped his hand on the wet towel. “They never imagined she could control a car as well as they could.”
“I could have told them that.” BoomBoom smiled. “Reflexes like a cat.”
“Not even close,” Pewter responded.
The blue jay swept down on all those people at the table, making off with more delicious seeds from the tops of some muffins.
“That damned bird!” Franny allowed herself a curse.
Franny, who knew Millie Haldane, asked Harry, “What’d you think of Millie?”
“She’s lonely, you know. She knows a lot. Cooper, I’d pay a call on her or use her for an expert witness once you have a talk with the prosecutor. Actually, I want to see her again, too.”
“A real character.” Franny nodded.
“Look who’s talking.” Susan giggled, then became serious. “Harry, I think our phone call to Vivien Bly tipped them off, too. I mean, tipped them off that you were getting closer. I bet she ran straight to Latigo and told him everything. We should have thought of that. Just because we know he’s a two-timing you-know-what doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him. Maybe she doesn’t know.”
“She does,” Alicia said with conviction. “She’s going to stick by him; she’ll try to come up with alibis. Just wait until this goes to court.”
“How can she do that?” Harry threw up her hands.
Quietly, Reverend Jones replied, “How can she not? We have thousands of years of written history extolling women who put their love for a man before the common welfare. She was being a ‘good wife.’ ” He looked at the celebrants intently.
Harry plowed right in. “It’s one thing if infidelity occurs, but it’s quite another if you know your husband or son or daughter is killing people. How can what she’s doing be construed as good?”
“It’s a confusing issue. Standards are shifting,” Alicia wisely stated. “Personally, I don’t know what I’d do. I mean, do any of us know until it happens to us?”
“She’ll run the empire when he goes to jail.” Franny shrugged.
“Well, it’s entirely possible she’ll be on the carpet, too. How much did she know? Is she an accessory?” Cooper knew all too well how these things worked.
“This will drag on and drag on,” said Franny. In the meantime, Harry’s got a Subaru WRX STI, because I doubt anyone is going to think to take it back at the moment. Safe and Sound owns it, right?” She laughed.
“Guess they do,” Harry replied.
“Well, make hay while the sun shines,” Franny enjoined her.
“That’s just what I’ve been doing.” Harry swept her arm to indicate the cut hay fields, to much laughter.
Just then, the blue jay returned. The light on the iced-tea pitcher, mirrored almost, fooled him, and he flew smack into it, falling between the glasses and the sugar and lemon.
For a fat girl, Pewter burned the wind jumping on that table.
She’d just put her paw on the bird’s plump chest when Harry scooped her up.
“That’s my bird. I’ve waited years for that monster!”
Fair picked up the bird, stroking its head, feeling its neck. “Not broken.”
A bright black eye opened. The blue jay moved his head.
Pewter wriggled in Harry’s arms, her rage escalating.
“Get your tail out of the cake icing.” BoomBoom gingerly picked up the tail.
“Mine. That bird is mine!” Pewter reached out.
“No,” Fair said, as he plucked a baked oat off a muffin and put it into the bird’s beak. Then he threw the blue jay up. A flutter of wings and the thief landed on his branch.
Swallowing the oat, he stared straight down at the distraught gray cat. “Ha.”
“I will kill you,” Pewter vowed. “I don’t care how long it takes. I will kill you.”
Mrs. Murphy walked over to her emotional friend, leaned on her shoulder, and said, “Pewts, don’t you worry. Someday that blue jay will get his. You know that crime doesn’t pay.”
Dear Reader,
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