Q Is for Quarry

put you in jail," Chilton said, exasperated. "No one's proposing to arrest you. It's the car he wants. He's talking about a homicide. You interfere here and you're only making trouble for yourself. None of us want that."
    Cornell said, "Let it go, Dad. Come on. They're going to do it anyway."
    Ruel gave way suddenly. He took his hat off and slapped his thigh with it. "People been telling me we live in a police state, but I never thought I'd see the day. It's a damn shame when a law-abiding citizen gets treated like dirt."
    He walked away from the group. Cornell glanced back with a dark look and then followed his father to the house.
    We heard a quick horn toot at the street and saw the local towing company with a flatbed truck idling at the curb. Chilton whistled to catch the driver's eye and then gestured him in our direction with a series of arm rolls. The driver shifted gears, pulling the truck forward. He then backed into the driveway and eased up the long dirt lane toward the garage where we were standing.
    Dolan and I acted as sideline supervisers while the chain was attached to the Mustang's front axle and the car was winched up the ramp. Cornell's truck was gone by then and there was no sign of Ruel. Once the Mustang was loaded, we tagged after the moving tow truck as far as the street. The driver waited while we got in Dolan's car. We followed him, keeping the Mustang in view.
    I said, "By the way, you talked to Stace? What's he heard about his biopsy and X-rays? They must know something by now."
    Dolan looked at me blankly. "Completely slipped my mind. He wanted to come down here and I was so busy trying to talk him out of it I forgot to ask."
    "He's joining us?"
    "Not if I can help it. I'd rather have him up there where he can do some good."
    At the impound lot, we waited while the Mustang was unloaded and the rolling gate was locked. Dolan took care of all the paperwork and then he returned to the car. We headed for the motel. He was whistling idly to himself, tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel.
    "You seem chipper."
    "I am. I got a good feeling about this."
    "How long until the forensics guys can get back to us?"
    "Soon, I hope. Things are quiet at the moment, so Mandel said he'd ask them to get right on it."
    "And in the meantime, what?"
    "Nothing. If they can connect our victim to the Mustang, we'll use her dental chart to canvas the local dentists. Teeth that bad, someone might remember her."
    "Can't we do that while we wait? I hate sitting around. We know someone stole the car and drove it up to Lompoc. C. K. spotted it near the quarry..."
    "We still don't know for sure this is the car he saw. It could've been something similar; some guy stopping near the quarry to take a leak. Don't be so quick off the mark."
    "But suppose this was the car, doesn't it seem safe to assume it was used to move the body?"
    "Where do you get that, unless they find trace evidence?"
    "Oh come on, Lieutenant..."
    "I'm serious. Even if we're right about the car, it still doesn't prove the girl was from Quorum. Killer could have picked her up and stabbed her when he was on the road."
    "Okay, I'll grant you that one. So what now, we just sit?"
    "Yep."
    "But it could take days."
    "I can put you on a bus and send you home," he said mildly.
    "That's not what I'm getting at."
    "Then what?"
    "Why don't you do the sitting while I start nosing around."
    He shook his head. "There's no point going off half-cocked."
    "How about this? I'll work with the meter off, but keep a running tab of my hours. If I manage to track her down, pay me, and if I don't, oh well."
    Dolan thought about it, taking up his finger tapping as he studied the street ahead. "Maybe."
    "Come on, Dolan. Please, please, pretty please with sugar on it? Let me take a crack at it. I'll be good. I swear."
    "Begging's unbecoming. You're not the type." He stopped tapping. "I suppose I could borrow your typewriter and catch up on the paperwork. I want to get some of this down while the details are fresh."
    "Good. I'm glad. Makes it a lot more fun."
    Once in my room again, I opened the bed-table drawer and took out the pint-sized Quorum phone book, looking for the address of the public library. The Quorum Branch of the Riverside County District Public Library was on High Street. According to the minimap in to the front of the directory, it was only five blocks away. I tucked the book into my bag, left my typewriter with Dolan, and then headed off on foot.
    At the