“Most likely they would have,” she said, with a nod. She turned, smiled at the guy, and said, “I don’t suppose you know who the kid was who wanted to buy it?”
“Not by name. Only that he worked at the mechanic’s shop.”
“Does he still?”
“I don’t believe so, no,” he said, frowning. “But I’m not exactly sure. I don’t go to that one.”
“Any particular reason why?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said, “it just wasn’t my choice.”
She nodded at that and said, “Thanks very much for your time.”
When they got back into the vehicle, she drove forward and headed to the mechanic’s shop.
Rodney nodded. “Let me talk to him.”
“Oh, why this time?”
“Just because,” he said, with a grin, “sometimes you make me feel like I’m slacking.”
“You talked to a couple of the neighbors,” she protested.
“I did, but, for some reason, sometimes the guys at gas stations and mechanic yards treat women differently.”
With that, she hopped out, slammed the door shut, and said, “Well, we’ll fix that right now.”
He groaned. “Just joking.”
“I got it,” she said. “Let’s go take a look.”
As they walked in, the owner of the shop came out to talk to them, wiping at his hands with a grease rag. She pulled her badge, and he just nodded, didn’t show a positive or a negative response in any way. But he did turn and talk to Rodney. “What’s up? What can I do for you?”
“You had a kid working here for you a couple, three or four years back, in his late twenties or so.”
“I’ve only had three guys over the last four or five years, and only one of them has left, and that happened to be the youngest of the group,” he said. “Everybody else who works for me is forty plus.”
“What was his name?”
“Tex,” he said, “Tex Rambler. What’s this got to do with him?”
“We’re looking into the theft of an old teal blue truck from just around the corner here.”
“Well, I don’t know about him stealing the rig, but he was certainly fixated on that one. He tried to buy it off the old guy several times.”
“And yet the old guy never sold it, but it was stolen not very long afterward,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “Tex worked for me at the time, but then he left maybe four or five months later. I never saw any sign of the truck in all that time.”
“But then why would he?” Rodney said. “That would just let it out that he’d been the one to steal it.”
“He could have told me that he’d bought it though,” the owner argued.
“Do you have a forwarding address for him?”
“Um,” he thought about it and said, “let me go check. I’m not sure if I do or not.”
“What about his last paycheck?” Rodney asked.