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The Investigator (Letty Davenport, #1)(63)

Author:John Sandford

“I’m not behind him,” Kaiser said. “I’m running parallel off to the east. We’re still headed south. I’ll call when anything changes.”

Still under the sweatshirt, she used her phone to look up Yorktown trucking and found Yorktown Oil Services Ltd. out of Midland. She opened up the website and read, “The largest independent oil trucking company in the Permian Basin, with more than a hundred clean, modern trucks . . .”

She closed the phone and pulled the shirt back down, lay back on the pack, and dozed. Sometime later, she heard what she thought was a voice. Her phone clock said 5:14. She pushed herself up, peering through the mesh toward the road. She could see a flashlight coming toward her down the side of the road, and when it was closer, saw two men half-walking, half-jogging along the shoulder.

They went on by, and eventually out of sight. She never learned why they might be out there, running in the night.

Kaiser called: “I think I spotted that address on Highway 132. There’s some kind of pit out there. Maybe a gravel pit, I don’t know. I’m not on the same road . . . I’m north of it. The truck drove down in the pit where I can’t see it anymore. I marked it on the nav’s GPS. You want me to sit here and watch, or head back to you?”

“What can you do if you watch?”

“Not much. I can’t get close without tipping them off that I’m here.”

“Then head on back,” Letty said. “We’ll check it tomorrow.”

“Okay. I won’t make it there before sunrise. Stay hidden.”

“Call when you get close. I’ll get some sleep.”

* * *

Kaiser called when he estimated that he was fifteen minutes out. Pickups had been passing on the road, but none had turned at Winks. Letty folded up the tent and put it in its carry bag, did her duckwalk away from the Winks building past the pumpjack to the fence, waited until there were no trucks coming from either direction, then crossed the fence and the road, and sprawled in weeds. The sun was fully above the horizon, promising another hot day, when Kaiser called again.

“I’m a minute out. You should be able to see me.”

She got to her knees, saw him, and a minute later was in the truck.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine. Got some sleep. Been a while since I’ve slept outside, it was kinda nice. No rattlers as far as I could tell. Want me to drive?”

* * *

Kaiser was happy to stay behind the wheel, so Letty got on her phone and called Greet in Washington. “We saw an oil tank truck delivering oil to a company that is probably selling it for the thieves,” Letty told her. “I don’t think the truck is legit—they hide it, and we know where they’re hiding it.”

“We might want to bring in the FBI,” Greet said.

“We still don’t know where they’re getting the oil,” Letty said. “If you want to wait for a couple of days, we’ll probably get that.”

“I’ll talk to my boss. Things get complicated when we go to the FBI, so it’s not like they’re going to show up at your hotel tomorrow morning.”

“My concern is that they’ll go for the oil thieves, which I’m not sure will deal with the whole threat,” Letty said. “If these guys are using the money to do something dangerous . . . they might already be under way with it. We should probably try to figure that out before we jump them. Try to figure out everybody involved, not just the truck drivers.”

“I’ll tell the boss. If you do need some FBI backup right away, call me, twenty-four/seven.”

“I will,” Letty said. She hung up and pulled the visor down to shade her eyes from the harsh, low-angle sunlight. “Another day, another two hundred and seventy-four dollars and forty-three cents.”

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