“The person who was hired to do that specific job and got paid to do it.” He looked down at his desk. “The person who is feeling more and more like a dupe and a fool.”
At least he wasn’t going to pretend he was innocent.
“Lord, Mr. Horn, that’s a wild story.” Tinkie was shaking her head in sorrowful sympathy. “I don’t know if a lot of people will believe you were hired and paid to do that by the very woman who owns the car. It would be better for you if you told us the truth about who is behind such an expensive bit of vandalism.”
“I’m telling you the truth. The car’s owner, Bricey Presley, was sitting in that very chair where you’re sitting. She showed me the title to the car and she hired me to destroy it. She even told me the mix. She insisted on crack resistant.” He shrugged. “It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, but these rich women come up with crazy things all the time.”
“Wait, Bricey isn’t rich,” I said. “She’s well kept, but she isn’t rich.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his desk. “This woman was rich. Expensive clothes. Expensive jewelry. She had the title to the car. I saw it. Ms. Presley said she wanted the cement in the car, the full load of it dumped all at once. She wanted the car demolished. She said it was payback. And she also told me where she’d leave it parked, with the top down. She parked away from the other cars so I had easy access with the truck and chute. It was just as she said. I delivered the load exactly at the time she wanted it there, did my job, and left.”
“You didn’t find it strange she wanted to destroy her beautiful car?” Tinkie asked in that mesmerizing voice she used to lure men into thinking they were safe. Tinkie was partial to Caddies and I knew the brutal destruction of the car struck a nerve with her, but she was playing it smooth with Colton.
“I thought it was damn strange,” he said. “But hell, it was her car. What if she wanted to destroy a car or a perfectly good swimming pool? People with money do things I wouldn’t do.” He rubbed his lower face with one hand. “They just don’t want something anymore, so they call me to fill it in with dirt or cement or bury it. No skin off my teeth as long as their check clears.”
“Did she say she didn’t want the car anymore?” I asked.
He frowned. “Not in those exact words. But why else would she demolish it? Look, women do crazy things all the time. I guess you may not have noticed that while you were busy doing crazy things. The female gender isn’t all that fond of rational thought.”
I had to turn away to hide my grin. It was clear that Colton Horn had tangled a few times with women who were on the left side of sane. Those were the exciting ones, the wild ones with no limits. The ones who turned dangerous when the fun was over. Alex Forrest, as Jitty would point out.
“It’s going to be fine, Mr. Horn. I’m sure you got all of that in writing,” Tinkie said, as sweet as syrup. “Like, you have a signed contract to destroy the car? If we could just see that contract, we could move you out of the suspect list and go about our business.”
Colton palmed his forehead. “No, you can’t see it. I mean, I didn’t get Ms. Presley to sign the contract. She said it was her car, she had the title, it was a simple onetime delivery. I just did as I was hired to do.” He watched both of us. “And that is going to be a big problem, isn’t it?”
Tinkie shook her head. “Not with me, sugar, but it may be with Bricey. I think she may be one of those crazy women you know so much about. I don’t know what really happened, but looks to me like this plan sounded all crazy and just a little exciting when she thought it up. Then she got you to go along, but it was still just a fantasy in her mind. Bricey overlooked the fact she hadn’t bothered to insure the car, so…”
“This is terrible. She hired me. That’s the truth. Why would she change her mind and deny that?”
“I can only guess at the woman’s motive,” Tinkie said. “It looks like she had this idea of a grand, dramatic gesture that would put her in the limelight. In reality, the game wasn’t as much fun as she thought it was going to be. I mean, dumping a load of cement right on top of a convertible may have been a momentary thrill, but when you realize you’re going to have to walk home after work, the excitement is gone.”
He moaned. “I was so stupid.”
“Maybe it’s not that bad,” Tinkie said, and signaled me closer. “My partner and I aren’t interested in the car. We just want to be sure that this was the woman who hired you.”
She pulled up some photos on her phone that Cece had shared with her. “Is this her?”
He looked at the phone and the color drained from his face. “No, I’ve never seen that woman before in my life.”
Tinkie and I both sat forward. She searched the phone for another photo of Bricey. “How about this one?”
He shook his head. “That’s not the woman who hired me.” He swallowed. “Is that the woman who truly owns the car?”
“That’s Bricey Presley,” Tinkie said. “I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am. I’ve been had.” Colton stood up. “I’m going to find the
