The Gardens of Digby Green: Sighting Two

“Nice car.”

The gravelly-spoken statement from the other side of the fogged window woke Ray. Hinges creaked. “Up you go, Bosco. Time to go to Wisconsin.” A door shut, before the sounds repeated.

Ray peered at his watch. 7:42. Multiple nightmares of losing track of Green had driven him from the hotel room’s double bed to the front seat of Rose’s Chrysler Imperial. Since then, his breathing had fogged the windshield, and he couldn’t see out.

Whoever had parked next to him had started their vehicle engine, and was pulling away. Ray turned the key in the Imperial’s ignition, rolled down one window, and switched on the defroster fan. A white pickup left the hotel lot with a basset hound’s ears flying from the passenger window, and turned toward I80, heading east. Nobody he cared about. Digby Green’s truck still sat in the space where he’d seen it yesterday. Ray stretched.

His front teeth weren’t quite fuzzy, but it was too early to go looking for a pharmacy to buy a toothbrush and some Crest, and if he did, he’d surely miss Green. The rising sun glared off the hotel lobby door, which was opening. Green. Ray’s heart accelerated. He could ask the man now.

Ray’s hand dropped to the door handle, but then a family with small children also left the hotel. Nope, not the best timing. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

Digby’s truck pulled out. Yawning, Ray shifted into Drive, and followed, behind the family’s mini-van.

#

Ordinarily, Baked Eggs was Detective Marquez’s favorite breakfast, but today it wasn’t settling well. No way could he put that down to his wife’s cooking. The cause of his disquiet was Sikes. Having the agent hovering in his space, smirking, turned his workday sour. It was only 9:30. Why couldn’t the man run his investigation from a hotel room, and stay out of Marquez’s hair?

Sikes had shifted the position of the second chair into an angle where he’d get first glimpse of anyone approaching the detective’s office door, and worse still, could read the computer screen over Marquez’s shoulder. Vulture, that’s what he was.

The computer chimed, and the detective clicked on a notification about yesterday’s B.O.L. His jaw muscles were tight, and his breathing shallow. Another toll booth clerk responding. The license plate stolen by Digby Green had been spotted again, this time on a white, east-bound GMC pickup truck.

Behind him, Sikes swore. Marquez issued a second B.O.L.

The Gardens of Digby Green: Sighting Two is an installment of a short story which posts on Fridays. You can find the first part and read from the beginning, here.

Find a link to purchase the Heartland Treasures anthology here.

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