Point Blank

me.’ He grabs the phone, still yelling, and pushes her into the van.”
    “Look at the van, Dewayne. Do you see it?” At the young man’s nod, Savich continued, “That’s it. I want you to look at the van now, not the girl. Tell me what you see.”
    “It’s hard, man.”
    Savich waited.
    “I’m still looking at her, hoping the old guy doesn’t hit her. I watch her put those big sunglasses back on. Then she turns to look at me and blows me a kiss. Do you believe that chick? Okay, the van. It’s an old Ford Aerostar, filthy white, makes me wonder what kind of slob that old man is to let his wheels get that dirty. It’s one of those cargo vans—you know, windows on one side but not on the other. It’s got a roof rack and sliding side doors.”
    “Is there anything on the side of the van except dirt?”
    Dewayne frowned at Savich, jiggled his change. Savich said, “It’s okay, take your time. Look closely, Dewayne.”
    Dewayne Malloy scratched his ear, began beating his right foot heel to toe on the floor, and continued to jiggle his change. He had incredible coordination, Savich thought.
    “Yeah, Agent Savich, there’s a picture of something, maybe a lawn mower. Yeah, that’s right, a lawn mower.”
    Dr. Hicks thought for a moment that Savich was going to leap to his feet for some high fives, but instead he asked carefully, “A lawn mower—like it’s some sort of gardener’s van?”
    “Yeah, maybe. There’s some writing under the lawn mower, but it’s real dirty, I can’t read it.”
    “You’ve got great eyes, Dewayne. Keep looking, don’t think about anything except those letters. What color are they?”
    “Black.”
    “Words?”
    “Yeah, there are words, I think.”
    “Are they positioned right beneath the lawn mower?”
    “No, they’re kind of on a diagonal, you know, like they want to be a little bit different. And the letters are thick, with all those curlicues hanging off them.”
    “That’s great, Dewayne. You’ve got fine eyes, you took everything in. Okay, now look at the first word. Can you see it?”
    Dewayne shook his head. “Man, I’m sorry, but I can’t read the words.”
    Savich patted the young man’s arm. “That’s okay, Dewayne. Keep looking at the van. Tell me what else you see, anything unusual.”
    “There’s nothing else, only lots of dirt.”
    “Okay, the guy is driving out of the parking lot. Can you see a license plate?”
    “The old guy’s really burning rubber, man, you can smell it. I didn’t have time to look at the plates if I’d even thought of it. They’re all dirty, too, just like the van. Wait a second. White. The license plate is white.”
    Savich questioned Dewayne for several more minutes, but Dr. Hicks finally laid his hand on Savich’s arm. “His hard drive has crashed, Savich. That’s it.”
    Savich nodded to Dr. Hicks, who told Dewayne how great he was going to feel in a moment, and woke him up.
    Dr. Hicks shook the young man’s hand, told him the Boardroom also served an incredible sausage pizza. Savich said, “You were a tremendous help, Dewayne. Thank you. How would you like to meet the director of the FBI and have him thank you himself?”
    “Cool.” Dewayne Malloy grinned up at Savich. “When can I meet him?”
    “I’m calling right now,” Savich said. “Then I’d like you to meet with our sketch artist.”
    TWO HOURS LATER, Savich, Sherlock, and four agents sat around the table in the CAU conference room.
    “One week ago, Moses and Claudia left an old stolen Chevy van at Hooter’s Motel as a decoy, as a lure to make us think they were in that motel room. They were trying to kill cops.”
    Sherlock said, “Bottom line, Dillon, Moses wanted to kill you. Killing anyone else was gravy.”
    “And you, too, Sherlock,” Dane Carver said, “only a few hours later at Arlington National Cemetery.”
    “But I was the one who got lucky,” Connie Ashley said. She looked good, Sherlock thought thankfully, even with her arm in a sling.
    “My point is that they’ve probably been driving the Aerostar since then, and obviously had it in place near the motel. We now know from Dewayne’s description that it has an out-of-state license plate. They could have left the area to buy or steal the van a few days before they took Pinky.”
    Ollie said, “Dewayne said the plates were white, right?”
    At Savich’s nod, he continued, “I’m thinking Ohio plates; they’re the closest.”
    Savich said, “Pursue that,