Conclave (Hypernaturals 3)

The Kings Truck

Just like Morgan did in the lobby I snapped on gloves. I'm official-like. 

When I looked at the truck, I had no doubt it is the one I saw William speeding away in. I could see some fabric threads hanging from the license plate, a remnant of the cover that was over it.

"It has a plate" I pointed. "What or who did that come back to? Do we know?"

Morgan referred to her phone "Truck is listed as decommissioned by the owner fifteen years ago. Parked and forgotten. The plate is stolen. Comes back to a Silver 2007 Volkswagen Jetta. The registration is to a 1993 Dodge Shadow Convertible. I supposed he peeled that off the window when the top was down."

Close up I could see the truck body is in terrible shape. Faded as if it has been sitting outside in the sun for years. In stark contrast, the tires are brand new. I went around the front and popped the hood, but the scents told me what to expect before the hood opened. I smelled rubber and paint and light oil and hydraulic fluid. A sleeper truck: A brand new engine and transmission dropped into the ancient, used up truck body.

"Stealthmobile. Shiny new engine and tranny. Says 'Ford Racing' on the valve covers." I commented.

Morgan looked in. "460 PI. Built off the 351 Windsor block. 585 horsepower. That engine alone is ten grand, easy, and not always easy to find."

Jessica came over and looked in. "Oh. Man! I would love to have one of these! I need a place to build stuff like this in the garage, Adrian. Drop this into a 1968 red and white Mustang convertible! That would be fun."

Morgan bobbed her head. "Should fit. Have to think about the cooling..."

Oh boy. Two motorheads just found each other.

Why would William get or build a stealth rocket like this? Fly under the radar until he had to run?

I observed to anyone that cared more about the why than the technical build: "If the Sheriff's department looked under here, the drug mule story would have held up well."

I leaned into the huge cavity with the shiny new engine in it. My nose telling me the story, but I wanted to see it with my eyes too. Transmission fluid is distinctive and stinks. One sense led the other directly to the issue. I pointed down towards the bottom of the radiator. "They used a rubber hose and hose clamps to adapt the transmission to the cooler in the radiator, and the line broke. Judging by the smell the transmission is probably toast."

Anne looked under the hood, studied it. "Shitty install job." She pronounced. "Look at these wires all spliced together. Rush job for sure!"

Rachel leaned under the hood, moved a few wires and lines around with gloved hands. "Someone was in a hurry to get this thing on the road."

I opened the drivers' side door and inhaled deeply. I let it out in a sigh. "William. This is the truck. No doubt about it. I leaned in, looked around, shifting my vision into every place I could make it go. I could see all sorts of things. Blood. Fingerprints. Depression in the seat cushion. Reddish hairs. None of it very useful, other than confirming what I already knew.

Morgan opened the passenger door, and then the glove box, rifling through it. A couple of slips of paper she looked at, saying as she read them "Cash receipts. Convenience stores. Gas. Beer. Junk food. Dated over the last week. All places around Burnet." She paused, then said: "If I ate like this, I would never be able to leave the gym."

"You should try coming over. Then you can eat whatever the hell you want." I told her

"Plus blood." Morgan said with distaste.