Cat's Claw (A Pecan Springs Mystery)

you against sharing any of this with Ms. Harmon.”
    Tina gave a bitter chuckle. “That’s not going to happen. I guess you can tell that there’s no love lost between the two of us. In fact, I’ve already started looking for another job.”
    Sheila nodded. “And if you can pin down the date that Ms. Harmon told you she didn’t want to hear Mr. Kirk’s name again, please call me.” She pulled a card out of her jacket pocket and put it on the table, on top of a stack of books. Romances, she saw.
    Tina glanced down at the card, then up again, quickly, eyes widening. “You’re the
chief,
” she said. “Wow. This must be a really important case.”
    Sheila got to her feet. “They’re all important,” she said, and meant it.

Chapter Sixteen

    Sheila was getting into her Impala when her cell phone chirped. It was Bartlett, calling from his desk at the station.
    “We’ve caught a break,” he said curtly. “The information is just coming in now. About a half hour ago, there was a traffic incident on Blanco, three blocks from Kirk’s computer shop. Henry Palmer was riding his bike in the bicycle lane, on his way to work, I guess. He was sideswiped by Gino’s Pizza delivery van. As it happened, Jerry Clarke and her partner—that new officer, Rita Kidder—were in their patrol car, almost on top of the hit. Clarke saw the whole thing. When she called in the report, she said it looked deliberate, like the van swerved into the bike lane. No sign of braking, and the driver didn’t stop. Squealed the tires, drove off like a bat out of hell.”
    “Palmer.” Sheila pulled in her breath. “How’s Palmer, Jack?”
    “On his way to the ER. No word on his condition, although Kidder reports that it looks bad. Touch-and-go is what she said. Broken bones, concussion, internal bleeding.” Bartlett paused, said something to someone else on the other end of the line, then came back.
    “But here’s the kicker, Sheila. When Clarke saw the hit, she dropped Kidder off to deal with the victim and get EMS on the scene. She calledin backup, put on her siren and lights, and took out after the pizza delivery van, which was heading east on Blanco. Spahn and Botts happened to be a couple of blocks away. They blocked the intersection of Blanco and Laramie, in front of the Roundup Restaurant. The driver of the pizza van saw the roadblock, veered to avoid it, and smashed into that big brown-painted steer that sits out in front of the restaurant. Wiped out the steer, then ran head-on into a utility pole. He was dead at the scene.”
    Sheila felt her heart jump, then settle. “Damn,” she muttered. She felt sorry for Palmer, who seemed like a nice guy. And sorry, too, for Betty and Steve Baker, who’d bought Gino’s Italian Pizza Kitchen a couple of years before. They were good kids, doing their best to compete with national franchises in the local market. To cut costs, Steve often handled the deliveries himself. She hoped he hadn’t been driving the van this morning.
    She took a breath. “Any idea yet who—”
    “Yeah. We got a positive ID—and that’s our break.” To somebody else, he said, “Hey, cancel that APB. And start drawing up the search warrant for the Pecos Street address.” To Sheila, he said, “The driver was Jason Hatch.”
    “Hatch!” Sheila exclaimed.
    “Right. He was wearing a ski mask and gloves. The van was stolen from Gino’s parking lot—Steve Baker reported the theft about the time the hit-and-run happened.” He chuckled dryly. “Hatch probably didn’t want to run the risk of leaving traceable evidence at the scene. Looks like he knew the route that Palmer usually took to work, and maybe even knew what time he’d be riding this morning. So he planned to steal the van, wipe Palmer out, ditch the vehicle, then run for it. And he wasn’t going to leave any prints behind.”
    “Ah,” Sheila said. “Sounds to me like a falling-out of thieves.”
    “That’s what I’m thinking, too,” Bartlett said slowly. “Like, maybe Palmer knew that Hatch was blackmailing customers and decided to blow the whistle. Hatch found out, and tried to off Palmer.”
    “More likely, they were in it together,” Sheila replied. “It would have been tough for Hatch to have access to the computers without Palmer tipping him off. And Hatch wasn’t supposed to be in the shop, so he was probably taking the machines off-site. Or maybe Palmer was taking them to him. However the operation worked, Palmer had