Yes.
UNMISTAKABLE STENCH
Toolbox in hand, Randy springed from the motel office to repair a leaking faucet in room 128. The evening rush hour for customer check-in fast approached as the afternoon of April 18 faded into twilight. The economy-minded owner often opened doors and windows while he worked in vacant rooms in order to save on heating and air-conditioning bills. While sizing up the plumbing parts needed to compete the repair, a gentle wind swept through, flooding the air with noxious fumes. Randy took a deep breath. He discerned the unmistakable stench of diesel fuel. When he walked outdoors to investigate, he observed a large Ryder truck pulling under a cottonwood tree in a recreational vehicle park which occupied the east side of the motel property.
Randy returned to his task momentarily, but the pungent odor grew so overwhelming, he remerged from the room. At that moment, two men traversed the parking lot from the Ryder truck and strolled along the breezeway where he was standing. Randy would later identify the pair as Timothy McVeigh and Hussain Al-Hussani. The diplomatic businessman hesitated to admonish them about the truck before inquiring if they were motel guests.
Meanwhile, an irate resident in the Cactus RV campsite phoned the motel lobby to register a complaint about the malodorous van. The desk clerk, Georgia Hammerstein, answered the call.
“A large Ryder truck with an overpowering smell is parked outside my RV. Please get it out of here,” the customer implored.
“Yes ma’am. We will check on it right away,” Georgia tactfully promised. Agitated by the inconvenient interruption, she scurried across the lobby and opened the door. The reek of diesel fuel steamrolled through the office. At that moment, Randy darted through the entryway.
“Did the men in that Ryder truck check into the motel?” he asked.
“Thankfully, they haven’t,” Georgia replied as her husband Gary limped into the lobby, hobbling on a cane. The putrid smell awakened him from a nap in the next room. The couple often slept on the premises when they split twenty-four hour shifts managing the registration desk. Recovering frm an excruciating hip surgery, the forty-eight-year-old army veteran did not have patience to spare.
“Where is that awful smell coming from”” he grumbled.
Randy pointed out the window at the large Ryder truck as the moving van slowly lumbered across the parking lot. The trio watched as it headed north toward the filling station next door.