Chapter 20–Tuesday, 4:05PM

When Herb’s car and its occupants pulled up in front of the door at the 1 Stop, Truman and Capote were closing the back doors of the CSI van. Jordan was removing the yellow “Do Not Cross” tape from the scene.

“Hey, Chief!” Truman shouted as Herb stepped from the car. “We got some prints!”

“Good work, Tru!” Herb yelled back. “Maybe you can help us in here. Our friend,” he said pointing to the onion, “seems to remember now where the security tapes are recorded.”

Truman smiled. “Rubber bands have a way of jogging memories.”

Truman and Capote, carrying a scene bag, strode toward the doors. Parsley, Jones and the 1 Stop clerk were entering. Herb stood waiting for the techs. He let the door close. “The guy claims a rhubarb threatened him Sunday. Said he’d chop him up if he let anyone near the surveillance room.”

“A rhubarb?” Truman could hardly contain himself. “There hasn’t been a rhubarb in this city since who knows when. It had to have been a celery.”

“He looked at the photo. Twice,” Herb informed his tech officer. “He insists it was a rhubarb. Didn’t look anything like the stalkers.”

“Maybe he’s a gang member from over in Lettuceberg,” Capote offered. “They’ve got a serious problem with red stalks there.”

“You think so?” Herb asked. “Lettuceberg’s three hundred miles away!”

Capote didn’t get a chance to answer. Jones stuck his head out the door. “You guys coming?”

The three nodded and entered. The onion smiled at Herb, seemingly pleased with the chief’s appearance. “This way, sir,” he said, ducking behind the counter, Parsley and Jones in tow. “The key’s there,” he suggested, pointing again. On a nail hung by the door, hung a brass key. Herb snatched in and pushed it into the slot on the doorknob. It turned easily.

Herb flipped on the switch as he entered. The small room, unlike the rest of the store, was clean, well-lit. A time-lock safe stood in the far corner and next to it a SecurCam box, closed and locked. There was a dent or two around the key hole, but the box was shut.

“Has anyone opened this box since Sunday?” Truman asked the onion.

“No, sir,” the suddenly cooperative clerk answered. “SecurCam only comes in on Thursdays.”

“Do you have a key?” Capote inquired.

“Yes, sir, we have one, but it’s in the safe and the boss don’t trust me with the combination.”

Jordan stepped into the doorway. “Anything I can do to help?” the old gourd asked.

“We need someone to unlock this box,” Truman replied.“Get SecurCam on the phone.”

“Will do, sir,” Jordan said as he exited.

Truman and Capote pulled on gloves and reached into the black bag the zucchini had placed on the floor. Soon they were dusting the room for prints. They lifted two from the SecurCam box, near the damaged lock, and three or four from the safe.

Ten minutes later a uniformed SecurCam employee stepped through the front door. Herb glanced at his watch. It was 4:30pm. Night was coming. Everyone stepped aside as the man entered the room, key in hand. A second later the tape was signed for and in the hands of the two best techs in Garden City. Truman and Capote were quite the team.

Turning to his chief, Truman spoke. “Sir, we’ve got to go. We’ve got to get these prints and those from the phone processed.”

“Go!” Herb agreed. “Take Jordan with you. He can help. You can reach me on my cell or by radio if you find anything. I’m going out back to check on VBI. Harry and S are checking out some tire tracks and footprints they found there. Monica’s with them.”

Turning to the onion, Herb spoke. “These two gentlemen are going to escort you to our station. You will be held there until we confirm your story. Keep cooperating and you might see the light of day again.”

Parsley and Jones turned the man around and marched him out the door to car 12. Herb watched until they pulled out onto Hackberry. Then he turned and walked through the hallway and ducked out the back door.