CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was anything but a high-speed chase. With Amy Bernard obeying every posted speed limit, Jaime and Joanna followed at a distance of several car lengths. The van was so much taller than the surrounding vehicles that it was possible for Jaime to let other traffic merge in front of them and yet still maintain visual contact with the gleaming white Lexus.
“If anyone saw you looking at that vehicle in the yard, it could cause problems,” Jaime said.
“We’ll just have to hope they didn’t. In the meantime, don’t let that woman out of our sight.”
“Where do you think she’s going?” Jaime asked as Amy Bernard turned off Tanque Verde onto Grant Road.
“I don’t know,” Joanna said. “But the fact that she left right after we did makes me think we’d better find out. Our showing up at the house might have spooked her.” Joanna was quiet for several seconds. “You’re the one who dropped Dora Matthews’s clothing at the crime lab, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you happen to have the name and number of the criminalist here in Tucson who’s handling it?”
Jaime reached in his pocket, took out his small spiral notebook, and tossed it to her. “The guy’s name is Tom Burgess,” he said. “His phone number is in there somewhere.”
Joanna thumbed through the pages until she found the one that contained Tom Burgess’s name and number. As soon as she located it, she phoned him. “This is Sheriff Joanna Brady,” she said, once he was on the line. “I’m calling about the clothing my investigators brought in yesterday—clothing from a homicide victim named Dora Matthews. Have you had a chance to start on it yet?”
“No, why?”
“We’re currently following a damaged vehicle that may be implicated in that homicide. The medical examiner saw what he thought were flakes of paint on the victim’s clothing. We’re hoping you’ll be able to give us a match.”
“I’ll try to move it up on the list,” Tom Burgess said without much enthusiasm, “but I doubt if I’ll be able to get to it before the first of next week. We’re underbudgeted and understaffed.”
Joanna hung up and sighed. “Burgess didn’t strike me as much of a go-getter,” Jaime said.
Joanna allowed herself a hollow chuckle. “That makes two of us,” she said.
They continued to follow Amy Bernard, mile after mile, all the way down Grant to Oracle and then north on Oracle until she turned left into Auto Row.
“Now I know what she’s doing,” Joanna groaned. “She’s going to the dealer to have her car fixed.”
Grabbing up her phone, she dialed Frank’s number. “How’s it going on that search warrant? The one we need right this minute is for the Bernards’ Lexus.”
“I’m working on it,” Frank said. “What do you think I am, a miracle worker?”
“You’d better be,” Joanna said. “When you get it, fax a copy of it to me in care of the Lexus dealer in Tucson.”
“What’s the number?”
“I have no idea,” Joanna said, “but I can see the sign from here. It’s called Omega Lexus.”
As Joanna watched, Amy Bernard wheeled the white sedan off the street and up to the entrance to the service bays. Within moments a uniformed service representative came out to speak to her, clipboard in hand. “What do we do now, Boss?” Jaime asked.
“Pull up right behind her,” Joanna directed. “We wait until she gives the guy her car keys. Once they’re out of her hands and into his, we go up to her and have a little chat. You go one way, I’ll go the other, just in case she decides to make a run for it.”
As soon as the service rep took Amy Bernard’s keys, Joanna and Jaime climbed down out of the van. Amy stood with her back turned to the approaching officers, her blond hair ruffling in the wind. She had no idea they were there until Joanna spoke.
