Chapter 2
It wasn't natural to see Fiona Glenanne walk into a police station. As she crossed the lobby with Sam, Fiona glanced around at the relatively quiet area. A couple people sat in chairs filling out forms, and a lady cop stood behind a piece of bullet proof glass, but there was none of the chaos that she expected. Maybe they kept all that in back to make the public feel more comfortable upon entering the station. Whatever the reason, Fiona was anything but at ease.
Sam headed for the woman behind the glass and gave her one of his charming smiles. "Hey there, I'm Sam Axe. Is Detective Charlie Howard here? I'm a good friend of his."
"I can check for you. One minute, sir," the woman answered and disappeared through an open door. A couple minutes later she returned. "He'll be out in just a minute, Mr. Axe."
"Thanks." Sam turned away from the window and found an unoccupied seat.
Fiona was too antsy to sit still, so she shoved her hands in her back pockets and paced the lobby. Sam watched her, her constant movement irritating.
"Sam! Long time, pal," Detective Howard said as he emerged from the back room and approached, his hand out and a grin on his face. Sam stood and shook his hand. "I heard you, uh, got yourself into some hot water there for awhile."
"It's all good now, Charlie." Sam turned and pulled Fiona out of her wandering and brought her up beside him. "This is a friend of mine, Fiona Glenanne. Fi, Charlie Howard. He and I go way back."
"Nice to meet you, Fiona," Charlie said with a friendly smile. "How long have you known Sam?"
"Too long," Fiona replied. "Listen, we didn't come to chat. Can we just sit down and get this over with?"
Charlie eyed her and moved his attention to Sam. "What's up? Must be something urgent."
"Maybe," Sam responded and ignored Fiona's cold glare. "It's about a car. My friend Michael Westen's car."
"It was stolen, perhaps," Fiona added.
"Well, come on back and you can tell me all about it," Charlie said.
This invitation made Fiona more nervous, but she would do just about anything to get Michael's car back, so she bucked up her resolve and followed the men to a small office. It was Charlie's, no doubt. The family photos of a cute woman with two adorable kids were a dead giveaway. Citations hung on the walls along with his diploma from Annapolis and some photographs from his Navy days. Her eyes lit upon a picture of him with Sam and a couple other men she didn't know.
"You still have that up on the wall," Sam exclaimed as he saw Fiona studying the enlarged photograph.
"It's a reminder of how good we used to look," Charlie teased as he skimmed his thinning hair with one hand and with the other indicated that they should sit in the chairs in front of his desk.
"Speak for yourself, pal. Some of us haven't lost it," Sam cracked.
If Fiona were in a better mood, she might have said something, but she remained quiet and studied the surroundings.
"Okay, so can you tell me about this car that you think is stolen," Charlie asked.
Sam and Fiona reported their visit to the remote lot at the airport looking for the car, and that the attendant told them it had been removed by a tow truck. As they told their story, he nodded now and then and took notes.
"Well, the first thing I can do is check the Miami PD impound records. Cars that are towed from the airport lot are left at our impound, and if nobody claims them in a month or two, they're auctioned off." He tapped the end of his pen against his chin. "The car was towed about a month ago?"
"That's right," Sam replied. "That's what the kid told us."
"So we should still have it in our inventory." Charlie dropped the pen and got onto his computer, tapping at the keyboard and clicking his mouse for a few minutes. Finally, he nodded. "Okay, I've been through the current list and there's no 1973 Dodge Charger, black with white interior. According to our records, we never had one."
"So what does that mean?" Fiona sat on the edge of her chair staring at the detective.
"It was most likely stolen," Charlie replied with a sigh. "I'm sorry. This kind of thing happens all the time, where someone either uses their employer's tow truck to take cars, saying they're doing it under contract with the PD, or they dress up a truck, or just plain steal it, to take cars."
A rush of air escaped Fiona. "What do these thieves do with them, chop them up for parts?"
"Sometimes. Other times they'll take them to auction and see if they can get more for 'em. If the car was in relatively good shape and ran well, they'd probably try to sell it whole at an auction."
"Do you know of any sales around town that are good places to find hot cars," Sam asked.
"There are a couple of them. They haven't been caught lately, but that doesn't mean much. These guys are getting more and more sophisticated with how they deal with hot merchandise." Charlie scribbled something on a piece of paper and gave it to Sam, but Fiona reached out and snatched it before Sam could take it. He gave her a raised eyebrow in response. "Those are the places, and if I were you, I'd check out the top one first. They're running auctions Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, in addition to Saturdays. They get a lot of cars in, and they go out just as fast."
"What you're saying is, it'll be a long shot if we find the car there," Sam said.
"Yeah. It's been a month. It all depends on what their customers are looking for. If nobody wants an old Charger, you may be in luck."
"Thanks, Charlie. We appreciate it," Sam said as he stood and shook his friend's hand again.
"If you need anything else, just let me know." Charlie nodded. "One of these days, we'll catch some baseball and beers."
"Sounds like a plan. After we recover Mike's car, because then we'll have something to celebrate," Sam declared with a grin. "Later!"
Sam followed Fiona out to the car. She couldn't get there fast enough, and whether it had to do with being in what for her constituted enemy territory, or the fact that they had a lukewarm lead, Sam wasn't sure. It was Wednesday, and the auction started at three, so if they hurried they might be able to get there in time. Fiona insisted on stopping along the way to make a withdrawal at the bank. Sam didn't ask how much she took out, and she didn't tell him. He had a few hundred dollars on himself, and if it came to it, he would gladly chip in to liberate Mike's car.
Before the auction, the inventory of cars going to the block were brought out and parked in a fenced in area. The bidders were allowed to walk around and check them out and do just about anything but drive them. Over the sea of multiple colors and models, one black roof drew their eyes.
"Holy crap, Fi," Sam whispered. "Its here."
"At least it looks like Michael's car," Fiona said as she turned sideways and slipped past a couple ogling a minivan. When she reached the black body that glinted in the sunlight, she ran her hand along the fender as if it was Michael himself.
Sam split off and went around the other side to look into the passenger window. "It really does look like Mike's car."
Over the roof, Fiona glared at him. "Why don't you say that a little louder, hm?" She lowered her voice to a rasp. "Keep it down! We don't want to tip anyone off that we may have a connection to this car. Then they'll drive the price up."
"Hey, is the door unlocked on your side?"
Fiona tried it and shook her head. "No, and all the windows are up." She muttered a curse. "Unless we can get inside, we'll never know for sure if it's the car we want."
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen, bidding starts in ten minutes," a voice announced over the PA. "Please move to the bidding area at this time. For your safety, you may not stay in the inventory area during the auction, and if you win a bid, you must wait until the vehicle is brought to the post-sales area. Thank you for your cooperation."
"Okay, let's go, Fi."
"But I want to know we're bidding on the right car before we do this!" She clamped her hands on her hips and wouldn't budge.
"We won't know that unless we win it, so you've got a choice, sister. Don't bid and risk Mike's car going home with someone else, or bid and maybe it's not his car. If it's the latter, we'll make do. We'll fix it up, and maybe after Mikey's home awhile we'll admit it's not his car." Sam paused and his mouth twitched. He hated lying to his friend. "Maybe he won't hold it against us 'cause we meant well."
"No. We'll buy the car and if it's not his, well, we'll deal with the consequences then." Fiona's eyes were full of determination as she strode to the set of bleachers where the bidders waited. "I'm not taking a chance of losing him again."
Sam followed, pondering her Freudian slip. Finding Mike's car was about a lot more than just returning it to him. This was about her relationship with Michael. He suspected she was thinking that if she did this one thing for him he would be so grateful that he would feel he owed Fiona and would make good on his promise to quit. It was irrational. Sam understood what was at stake and why Mike went with the Agency. Either Fi was in denial or she just didn't get it, and Sam knew she was way too intelligent for that. He shook his head, realizing that he'd just paid her a compliment. Six years ago that never would have happened. How times change!
He sat on the bench next to Fiona and sensed the vibrations of her fidgeting all the way through the auction. As cars were sold, people left the stands and the crowd thinned, and the jostling grew worse.
"Fi, will you knock it off? The Charger is almost up. See?" He inclined his head toward the staging area, and they could see the black beauty sitting in the drive. "At least we know it runs."
Before long, a young guy drove the Charger into the small arena and parked it. He got out and caressed it with a rag and gave it an appreciative look before exiting to a waiting area.
"Alright, let's get the bidding started on this 1973 Dodge Charger coupe..." The auctioneer rattled off some more facts about the car before starting at five hundred dollars.
A few interested parties shouted out bids, including Fiona. "One thousand," she yelled.
"Fifteen hundred."
"Seventeen hundred."
"Two thousand two hundred," Fiona cried.
"Two thousand five hundred."
"Two thousand six hundred."
Fiona smirked. One of the guys was already wimping out. "Three thousand," she bellowed, not letting her other competitor get in a bid.
The man who sat a few rows below glared up at her. "Three thousand two hundred fifty."
"Three thousand five fifty."
The man looked at the car, than at Fi, then back to the car.
"I have three thousand five fifty, going once, going twice..."
"Three thousand six hundred."
"Three thousand seven fifty," Fiona countered. Her eyes were like ice as she looked down at the other man. He shook his head.
"Three thousand seven fifty, going once... twice... sold to the little lady up there!"
"Wow, Fi. You have that much on you?" Sam asked as he followed her down the bleachers, trying to keep up with her and not break his neck weaving over the bench seats.
"I'm a little short. Do you think they'll take an IOU?"
"How much do you need," Sam asked as they approached the payment window.
"I brought thirty five hundred, so..."
"Two fifty, I got that." He stopped with Fiona and dug into his pocket to pull out his money clip. He slipped off three hundreds and said, "Use the rest for gas, Fi."
"Thank you, Sam." The smile on her face was the brightest he'd seen in awhile.
"You're welcome."
She paid for the car, picked up the title, and headed for the waiting vehicle. "I'll drive it over to Madeline's and meet you there, okay, Sam?"
"You got it, sister." He smiled at the excitement in her gait and the look of contentment on her face. But deep inside, he had a feeling that if this didn't turn out to be Mike's car, she was in for an emotional crash. He should have been spending his time with Elsa, but Fi was going to need him if this went bad. He couldn't shirk his duty to his friend, and if he did, Elsa would get on his case. So he was stuck in the situation until it was resolved.
Sam parked on the street because Fiona's car and the Charger took up the driveway. She and Maddie stood outside admiring the car, but as Sam neared it, he knew it wasn't the right Charger. An old dent partially hidden by the bumper was the dead giveaway. Sam knew just about every ding and mar in that body because he'd been around through most of them. The dent had obviously been there a long time because upon closer inspection he saw paint flaking and some rust.
Fiona sighed. "It's beautiful, but it's not Michael's car."
He looked up from his inspection. "You figured that out, huh?"
She nodded and swallowed back her emotion. "I just gambled away three thousand, seven hundred fifty dollars for this, and we're no closer to finding out what happened to Michael's car."
Three thousand five hundred, Sam thought, but he wasn't about to point out that mistake. "Let me get the VIN number, and I'll call Charlie to see if this car is stolen."
"Then what? What difference does it make?" Fi's voice rose in pitch and she turned and headed for the house with Madeline hurrying after her.
Sighing, he got out his phone and called the detective. "Charlie, it's Sam. I've got a VIN I need you to check for me." After giving him the number, he waited.
"Sam, that car is stolen. It belongs to a guy in Orlando."
"Orlando? You sure about that?"
"That's what my computer says," Charlie replied. "Sorry, pal. We're gonna have to confiscate it."
"Yeah, I know. As long as Fi and I aren't in trouble for accepting stolen property."
"Nah, you'll be fine. That auction house, however... we'll be looking at them a lot more closely now. You and your friend may have helped us finally nail these guys. Thanks."
"You're welcome, Charlie. I know that'll make Fi feel a little better, but it doesn't get us any closer to finding Mike's car." Sam breathed a defeated sigh. "Oh, you'll need the address to pick up the car. Or should we drive it in to the station?"
"I'll have a tow truck come and pick it up tomorrow morning. It's a little late yet today." Charlie paused. "I'm sorry, Sam. I wish this could have been a clean sale and your friend's car."
"Yeah, me too. Talk to you later, Charlie."
Sam wasn't looking forward to going inside to tell Fiona the news, but he shored himself up for the storm that was sure to come and entered the house.