High Stakes Gamble

Chapter Seven

On the way to the call, Hampton filled in Aurora with the information he’d gotten. “Highway patrol happened to be at the scales just outside of town when a semi pulled in. Seems the driver panicked for some reason when he was asked to open the back for a search. He shot and killed the cop. Then he drove off in a big hurry.”

“They have a description of the truck and driver?”

“The scale operator dove for cover. He’s pretty shook up and isn’t much help. Truck was white. Driver was a male.”

“Shit! How many thousands of trucks going through town every day fit that description? Any security cameras in place that work?”

“Let’s hope we’ll be so lucky.”

Twenty minutes later, Aurora faced the fact that they had nothing to go on. The coroner arrived and confirmed that the officer been shot with a handgun, most likely a .45.

The security tape only revealed the shooting. Not the face of the shooter nor any markings or the license of the truck. And there were no witnesses except for the gibbering idiot whose eyes were glazed with shock and who hadn’t said anything helpful since they’d first arrived and started questioning him.

Aurora stood outside and tried to cool her temper. Stupid fool was less than useless. The ringing in her head began gently, and as she moved to the grass on the side of the road, it increased enough to gain her attention. She scanned the area and saw tracks that had rutted the grass further up the turnoff. They looked exactly like what one would expect from a vehicle that had driven off in a great hurry.

“Hampton!” Gaining his attention, she waved him over. “Whadaya think? Could these be tracks from our perp?”

“God love ya, Aurora. I think you’re onto something.” First he called the yellow-shirted officers to tape off the area and then he headed to his car to call in a team to take imprints of the tires. In the meantime, Aurora had her camera and took pictures from every angle. If by some miracle the tires had any distinguishing marks, and they found the truck to match, they’d have evidence to put it at the scene.

Aurora returned to the building and asked them to replay the video once again. This time, on a hunch, she turned up the volume as high as it would go. A very slight head action by the patrolman just before he approached the front of the truck made her aware that he might have heard something. Something that had forced him to demand that the truck driver open the back. Maybe it was that order that had precipitated his death.

“What’s up, Aurora?” Ham stopped beside her while she waited for the tape to restart once again to where the truck had pulled up.

“What kind of a truck is it?”

“Peterbilt, maybe twenty years old,” he answered. They both watched as it came to a stop on the scales. The patrolman stood reviewing a pile of papers in his hands when something made his head jerk upwards. He turned to look at the load, hesitated for a few seconds and put the forms down.

Slowly, unclipping his gun but leaving it his holster, he walked to the passenger window. His lips moved as he issued an order and then his body jerked twice and dropped seconds before the truck sped off with a torrent of black smoke pouring out of the exhaust.

“Turn the volume up as far as possible,” Aurora demanded. Didn’t help. They couldn’t hear anything, but Aurora knew in her gut that the officer on the scene did hear something. And it was enough for his suspicion to be ignited and for him to follow it up with demands.

Ham coughed but heavy emotion still rang in his voice. “Damn I hate watching a good man fall. This scum cop-killer is number one on my catch list from now on. You have any ideas, Aurora?”

“I think he heard something coming from the trailer. Maybe a scream or someone pounding. And he must have judged it to be human for him to take the action he did.”

“Humm. I see where you’re coming from. And you’re probably right. I’ll run through the files we have on illegals or human trafficking and see if we can pick up any leads. In the meantime…?”

“Get the guys here to check the earlier logs. See when a truck with the same description might have passed through within the last six months. Then get those license numbers that would have been recorded and run them through the files.”

Ham took out his notebook and made a note and waited, knowing she was on a roll. “And?”

“Get some of our guys to notify the other weigh scales in the state to check their files and to keep a look out for any twenty-year-old, unmarked white Peterbilts. Tell them not to waylay the driver, just record the license number and call it in.”

“Good!”

“Then set up an APB for highway patrol to pull over all suspects and to use caution. This killer is armed, dangerous. He put down one good man today. If cornered, he won’t hesitate to do so again.”

“Got it.” He flipped the book flap and grinned as he shook his head.

“What?”

“I’ve surely missed yer quick mind and yer pretty face.”

Pleasure crept into her reddening cheeks. She knew it and be dammed if she’d let him see.

Hesitating too long, that soft feeling the big Irishman stoked inside her took over. Aw hell! Deciding quickly, she turned, patted his face and winked. “And I’ve missed yer ugly mug!” His roar of laughter followed her to the vehicle.