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gate into the tow yard. He waited for me as I parked the bike and set my helmet on the ground, then led me toward the far side of the fenced-in area. I stopped suddenly when I recognized the officer who was processing the scene, and grabbed at Willard’s elbow.
    “Is that Officer Meadows ?”
    He grinned. “It is. Want to tell him your joke?”
    “No. But I’d like to stick his head in one of those toilets.”
    “My, my. You are regressing today, aren’t you?”
    An image of Miranda flashed through my mind and I felt myself redden. “Sorry. But what is he doing with an important job like this?”
    Willard pulled his elbow from my grasp. “I know you’ve had your run-ins with Officer Meadows, but he’s grown up in the last year.”
    I lifted an eyebrow.
    “Really, he has.”
    I wasn’t going to believe that without seeing it. When my farm had been sabotaged the past summer Meadows had been the first to respond. The first to respond but the last to actually believe anything had really happened. He was rude, nasty, and unprofessional. And that was just to start with.
    Willard resumed walking toward Carla’s truck, and I followed grumpily. My thoughts of Meadows were soon tempered by the sight of my friend’s beloved Ford. The Port-a-Vet had been ripped open, with everything in it either gone or damaged. The tires were slashed, and the paint on the side had been keyed, or some such thing. The hood was smashed and crumpled, like the way Volvo advertises the “accordion” look.
    I studied the car. “The guy didn’t run into any other vehicles?”
    “Not that’s been reported. We’re thinking it was probably a building or some other stationary object he hit, and after he abandoned it someone else came along to finish the job. We haven’t been able to figure it all out yet.”
    We reached the truck and Officer Meadows pulled his head out of the car’s interior. He stopped short at the sight of me. “This isn’t her truck?”
    Willard shook his head.
    “Then what’s she doing here?”
    “Officer. What have you found?”
    “But she—”
    “ Meadows .”
    The dipwad got control of himself and turned so he was addressing only Willard. “There’s no trash. No food wrappers, receipts, tissues, nothing. And the steering wheel and door handle have been wiped clean. From everything I can find on the truck bed he must’ve been wearing gloves when he trashed it. Probably a pair of the victim’s latex ones, from the box in the back. But…” He straightened, his eyes sparkling. “We got a hit on the rear view mirror. Several clear, whole prints. He mustn’t have put the gloves on until he was ready to trash the vehicle.”
    “You’re sure they’re not Dr. Beaumont’s?”
    “Well, I can’t be sure, of course, until I run them through the computer, but there are a lot there. I’m making cards of them now.”
    “Great.” Willard turned to me. “Told you those rear view mirrors come in handy.”
    I waved a hand toward the ruined Port-a-Vet. “What about all her stuff? Aren’t there drugs or scalpels or something to be concerned about?”
    Willard’s face went serious. “Just one narcotic that I’m aware of. I asked her about medications and she said she was carrying some Ketamine in the back because she always takes some during on-call days, in case she needs to work on a horse.”
    “What’s Ketamine?”
    “An anesthetic. But it’s also used as a date rape drug they call Special K.”
    “So what do you do?”
    “Follow it up. Check out the drug angle however we can. When we put out the alert on the truck yesterday we attached a special note about the Ketamine. Most likely it was just a coincidence that the drug was on board, but you never know. Only a few people were aware she’d been called out to a horse farm, but some criminals probably think vets always carry narcotics. Remember, they’re dumb, so they wouldn’t exactly do research.”
    “You think you’ll get him from the