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“Son, pacing around the room is not going to get the car here faster,” the Sheriff instructed Evan. Nearly 6 hours later, Vern, Evan & the Sheriff were in Vern’s living room, waiting for the dispatch-tow truck to deliver the 1991 Ford Crown Victoria. Evan sat down briefly, but stood up & started pacing again.
“I just can’t sit still,” Evan responded.
Shaking his head & turning to Vern, the Sheriff said: “I wish you would’ve told me you were going. I could’ve called ahead & made sure everything was fine.”
“But, they told me on the phone it was in working, driving condition,” Evan interjected.
“Clearly their ‘working, driving condition’ is not the same as ours,” Vern replied. “Can’t imagine why you’d need tires to actually drive down the road.”
“I told you I didn’t want Grandpap’s car,” Evan observed.
“& I told you everything will work out,” Vern replied. “Give it some time, you’ll see.”
“Sadly, not everyone employed at the impound yards are car people,” the Sheriff offered, steering the conversation back around.
“Well, they ought to be,” Vern said a bit perturbed. “That lady at the desk was just awful.”
“So you’ve said,” the Sheriff commented.
“‘It starts up, so its working,’” Evan mimicked the lady at the desk. “My goodness, just because it starts doesn’t mean it’s going to run….”
Evan’s remarks were interrupted by the sound of a truck entering Vern’s driveway. Evan made a beeline for the front door, while Vern & the Sheriff got up from their seated positions & arrived at the front door to see the truck come to a halt in Vern’s driveway. Evan burst out of the house, then:
“No!!!!!!!! That’s NOT my car!”
“Uh, oh, that don’t sound good,” the Sheriff said, opening Vern’s front door.
Vern followed the Sheriff out & walked around the truck, only to see a 1976 Buick Century sedan sitting on the flatbed, where a certain 1991 Ford Crown Victoria should have been.
“What was that about things working out, Vern?” Evan’s voice pierced the air.
Vern didn’t know what to say in reply. He was about to attempt to say something, though, when a male voice interrupted his thoughts.
“I just need you to sign these papers, I’ll unload the car & then I’ll be on my way.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” Vern said, turning to look at the stranger, who’d exited the truck & was now standing near Vern. “You’ve delivered the wrong car.”
“No, I haven’t. This car,” the truck driver motioned towards the Buick on the flatbed, then towards the house, “to this address. Right here, on this paperwork.”
“No,” was all Vern could say in response.
“Um, what he means is that this is not the correct car,” the Sheriff interjected. “Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Sheriff Marty.”
“Hi, I’m Luke,” the truck driver said, hesitantly shaking the Sheriff’s hand. “Look, I don’t want any trouble here, I just want to deliver the car & then go home.”
“I understand that,” the Sheriff acknowledged, “but we have a problem here, because this isn’t the correct car to be delivered here. I’m guessing the mistake was back at the impound.”
“Probably,” Luke said, “but I can’t go back with this car still on the flatbed.”
“I see,” the Sheriff said. “Will you excuse me a moment?”
Luke nodded, & the Sheriff pulled Vern aside, while watching Evan pace behind the flatbed.
“Look, I’m going to put out an APB on Evan’s car, then I’m going to call Captain Wyatt to see if he can help. I’m sure there is a logical explanation for this.”
“You bet there is,” Vern said, raising his voice. “They’re incompetent!”
“Calm down, Vern,” the Sheriff advised. “I need you to help me here.”
“I know, Marty, but this is ridiculous! How do you send the wrong car to the wrong address, & where’d they ship the Crown Vic?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out. Meantime, will you please go back & talk to Luke? Try to see if he might have any info that would help us! …Oh … & try to calm Evan down, please.”
The Sheriff nodded towards Luke (who returned the nod) & walked to his police car. Vern re-approached Luke, while keeping an eye on Evan.
“Are you a car guy?” Vern asked Luke.
“Sure am, sir,” Luke quickly replied. “That’s why I know I wouldn’t have brought the wrong car to the wrong location.”
“Fair enough,” Vern said. “Except, we were at the lot earlier today to pick up a dark blue 1991 Ford Crown Victoria. We were told it would be delivered here, at my request, since the car wasn’t in running condition to drive it here.”
Luke paused a moment, then exclaimed: “I do remember that Crown Vic, but it was on a truck bound for somewhere out of state.”
“Out of state!?!?!?!” Evan erupted. “Where was it going?”
Luke turned to look at Evan: “I don’t know, sir. I’m not privy to where cars are being delivered.”
Evan whipped around to look at Vern: “I told you I didn’t want Grandpap’s car back!”
“Evan, calm down, please! Why don’t you go back inside the house while Marty & I try to work this out?”
Evan lowered his head slightly, turned & walked back into Vern’s house via the front door. Thinking that was easier than he’d expected, Vern turned his attention back to Luke.
“OK, let me ask you this, Luke: Are you able to get us in touch with your dispatcher to find out where this Buick SHOULD go?”
“Honestly, at this hour,” Luke replied, “probably not. It took me over an hour to get here, & they generally close at 7p.”
“I see,” Vern said, weighing some thought options in his mind.
“Look, as I said,” Luke started, “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to unload the car so I can get home to my wife. She’s expecting any day now, & I’m just trying to make some extra money to make ends meet while still spending as much time as I can with her.”
“I certainly appreciate that, young man,” Vern responded. “& congratulations! Do you know if it is a boy or girl?”
“Thank you,” Luke said, trying to relax a bit. “Actually, it’s both. We’re expecting twins!”
“My goodness,” Vern chuckled. “You’re going to have your hands full!”
“I know,” Luke said, “& that’s why I agreed to take this job. They said they’d pay me double to deliver this Buick here.”
“They?” Vern queried.
“Yeah, the dispatcher said they were told the take home pay would be doubled for this delivery.”
“But, who offered that type of pay day?”
“I’d like to know the answer to that last question, too,” the Sheriff said, having walked back to stand next to Vern & Luke.
Startled, Luke turned towards the Sheriff: “Um, I … I don’t know. I wasn’t told anything more than that, & I didn’t ask any questions. But, doubling the pay for a delivery is not out of the ordinary. The dispatcher does that every so often for an after-hours trip like this is or if a car is needed ASAP.”
“I see,” the Sheriff replied.
“Now, Marty, give him a break,” Vern interrupted. “This man is expecting twins!”
“Oh?” The Sheriff’s eyebrows raised while he looked at Vern, then back to Luke. “Well, congratulations, but that, unfortunately, doesn’t help us with this situation. I’ve put an APB out on the car we are expecting, & have left a message for someone I know within the state cop ranks.”
“So, can I drop the car off & go, then?” Luke asked, tensing up again.
“Well, no, not exactly,” the Sheriff said, with Luke giving a somewhat exasperated reaction-look. “Just a minute, let me explain. I’m going to have you follow me to my office, where you will drop off this Buick. I will take it into custody for the night, & with any luck, by morning, we will know where it should go, & have an idea of what happened to the car we were expecting to be delivered tonight.”
“Fair enough,” Luke said quickly. “As long as I get the car off the flatbed & the papers signed, I’m good.”
“Yep, you will, at my office.”
Luke nodded & walked away to get into the truck. Meanwhile, the Sheriff turned his attention to Vern.
“What I didn’t say,” the Sheriff half-whispered to Vern, “is that Captain Wyatt said that particular lot has no jurisdiction for out-of-state deliveries. So, either Luke is lying to us or he was lied to or he was just guessing.”
“I’d guess Luke just didn’t know,” Vern said, matching the Sheriff’s half-whisper level. “But, I don’t know.”
“Exactly,” the Sheriff said, “which is why I didn’t say anything. I heard Evan yell something about out of state & figured that was significant, so I asked Wyatt.”
“OK,” Vern said. “But, so now what?”
“Well, I’m going to have Luke follow me to the police station, & you can calm Evan down & take him home,” the Sheriff replied. “Nothing much more we can do ’til morning, anyway. Wyatt already has a couple state cops on the case & has made the APB statewide, so that should help.”
“Hopefully,” Vern said. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”
“Me, either, Vern. …Welp, I better get going. I’ll talk to you in the morning, then see you at Ricky’s services?”
“That’s the plan,” Vern half-chuckled.
The Sheriff nodded, turned & walked to the driver’s door of the truck: “Ready to go, Luke?”
Luke nodded to confirm, then the Sheriff got in his car, & within moments, the patrol car & flatbed truck were headed towards town. Vern turned back to his home, walked in & found Evan sitting on the couch.
“Quite a day, huh?” Vern half-asked.
“Yeah,” Luke said, turning to look at Vern. “Im sorry for my outbursts, Vern. I just … don’t know what to think.”
“I know,” Vern said, sitting next to Evan. “I don’t either. Anyway, no need to apologize, I certainly understand the frustration. But Marty, with the help of Captain Wyatt, will get to the bottom of this, & hopefully secure the safe return of your Grandpap’s car.”
Evan nodded: “Let’s hope.”
“Meantime, let me take you home. If you like, I can pick you up on my way to Ricky’s services tomorrow.”
“That sounds good, I’d appreciate that.” Evan slapped his legs, just above his knees, with his hands & stood up.
Vern stood up, too: “OK, then, let’s…”
Vern’s voice was interrupted by his cell phone ringing.
“Hang on a sec,” Vern said pulling his phone out of his pocket & lifting it towards his eyes. “Ah, it’s Marty. Hold that thought, let me see what he wants.”
“Yeah, Marty, what’s up?” Vern asked into his phone.
“I ran the VIN on that ’76 Buick, Vern. Guess the name on the registration…?!”
“I don’t know,” Vern said shaking his head, “& I kinda doubt Evan would, either.”
“No guesses, then?” the Sheriff queried.
“No, not really,” Vern said, feeling a bit off put that his friend was stalling.
“A Mrs. Wilma Schuster.”
“Probably just a coincidence,” Vern said automatically. “Right?”
“Probably,” the Sheriff agreed.
“But it is a bit creepy,” Vern verbalized what he & Marty were thinking.
“You said it, not me,” the Sheriff qualified.