Page 67 of Solid as Steele
“Yeah, one. Nice rig. Owned by Hobert Tovar.”
“Did I see his picture as driver of the month in the lobby?” Mackenzie’s tone was totally innocuous.
“Yep. Been driver of the month for as long as I can remember. Smart driver and hard worker.”
“Is he on the road for you right now?” Owen asked.
Urban nodded. “Had to take a load of fittings to LA. Been gone for two days.”
“And before that?”
“He was off for a week after a trip down to southern California.”
“When will he be back?” Owen’s heart rate spiked over learning that Tovar was likely in town during the attack.
“Last time we talked, he was making good time. He’s scheduled back early tomorrow. Around ten in the morning.”
“What can you tell us about him?” Mackenzie’s tone remained soft and non-threatening.
“What’s to tell? He’s a regular guy. In his late forties. Never married. Lives alone out in the boonies somewhere with his three dogs. Likes to hunt. Fish. A real outdoorsman when he’s not driving.”
Mackenzie shifted on her feet. “Any reason he never married?”
“Why? You interested?” Urban gave a deep belly laugh. “Okay, don’t look at me like that. It was a joke. He’s pretty easy-going, and I don’t think he’d be real difficult to live with, so don’t think that’s the issue. Maybe he just never found the right woman.”
The white pickup idling outside Ernie’s bar came to mind. “What kind of personal vehicle does he drive?”
“Pickup. Older model Ram.”
“Color?”
“White.”
“What about his build?”
“I don’t know. Six feet. Two-twenty or so.”
“He wear glasses?”
“For driving, yeah.”
Owen wanted to shove a fist up as this fit the description of the man who attacked him, but he resisted the urge. “I’ll need his home address.”
Urban sat forward, his eyes tightened. “Sorry. I think I’ve said enough. You need one of them whatchamacallits that makes me say more.”
Owen shoved his hands in his pockets. “You mean a warrant?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Urban nodded. “That’s what I mean. The owner’s a real stickler for following personnel rules so he don’t get sued.”
“I can get a warrant.” Owen planted his feet and eyed the guy. “But I don’t think you want to make me do that. I’ll be granted access to all of your personnel files, and your owner probably won’t like what I turn up. Maybe some immigration issues and undocumented workers will come to light.”
“Fine.” Urban grabbed a pen and paper. He flipped through an old-fashioned rotating card file and wrote down the information for Owen. He held it out, a surly scowl on his face.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” Owen took out a business card and dropped it on the desk. “I would appreciate you not telling him that we’re looking for him, and when he returns, give me a call so I know he’s back in town.”
Urban jutted out his chin. “You’d appreciate it, or you’re forbidding me from calling him?”
“Forbidding.” Owen spun and motioned for Mackenzie to go in front of him.
