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trunk of his car, his arms folded, his biceps stretching the limits of a navy
polo shirt. As I pulled alongside and parked, just outside the scorched
circle, Cash used one foot to shove off from the rear wheel, then extended his
hand through my open window for me to shake. Now that my engine was off, I
could hear the steady whoosh of traffic somewhere through the woods to the
north not loud but surprising, considering I could see no signs of the
bypass from here.
Morning, Doc, Cash said. Nice place, huh?
Very nice, I agreed, clambering out. I wouldn t mind having a place like
this myself.
Well, it could be coming on the market soon, he said. If we re smart or
lucky.
How long you been here?
About an hour. We were waiting for Latham at the gate down at the bottom of
the driveway when he headed for work. He wasn t too happy to see our little
caravan.
Did he go on to work?
No way, said Cash. He s in the house, acting all indignant, watching the
evidence techs like a hawk. Trying to figure out what they re looking for.
I studied the burned circle, which measured maybe twenty yards across, then
turned and looked back toward the house, which was barely visible. For a
place that s as close to downtown as my house, this is mighty isolated, I
said. I can see why nobody would have just happened by and seen a body in the
car.
He nodded. Latham says she liked to park up here when she wanted to think.
Sit and smoke and look at the view.
I gazed out over the farmland. From the rise where we stood, the pasture had
lovely views to both the east and the west. Actually, I ll buy that part of
the story, I said. I d probably do the same if I owned this chunk of land.
Except for the smoking.
Which Latham mentioned three times in his statement. He actually said, It
was probably a cigarette butt that caught the grass on fire. When I read his
statement the other day, I could almost feel his elbow nudging me in the ribs
every time he mentioned the smoking.
That s because he thinks cops are dumb, I said. Wanted to make sure they
got it.
Another interesting thing about this location, said Cash.
Once the car was burning, hundreds of people would have seen the smoke from
640 it s only a quarter mile through those trees. Half a dozen people called
911 to report a fire which I m sure he wanted.
To establish the time of the fire, I said.
Exactly. The first call came at three fifty-three P.M. while he was playing
the slots in the Bellagio.
Cash led me into the burned circle, pointing out four evidence flags, which
indicated where the corners of the vehicle had been. A fifth flag marked the
spot where five cigarette butts almost but not quite consumed by the blaze
had been found below the driver s door. I knelt and inspected that area,
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seeing nothing but the charred stubble of grass and the thin wire of the
evidence flag jammed into the ground.
I pointed back toward where the rear of the vehicle would have been. Do you
remember which side the exhaust pipe was on?
The right, he said.
Staying well clear of the imaginary vehicle s boundaries, I walked back to
what would have been the vehicle s right rear corner and knelt again. The
grass there looked exactly like the grass everywhere else within the circle of
burned vegetation. Any idea where the catalytic converter on a Lexus RX is?
He shrugged. Um& somewhere between the engine and the end of the tailpipe?
No wonder your boss thinks so highly of you, I said. Every answer at your
fingertips. Just like on CSI. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled
forward, toward what would have been the center of the vehicle, scanning from
side to side as I crept. I wasn t sure what I was looking for, and I wasn t
sure what it was when I found it. But it was something.
Cash came to the edge of the rectangle and squatted down, but he couldn t see
anything from there.
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