One of them parked, kicking his stand and whipping off his helmet. He was terrifying looking—with deep creases and that matted beard and skin that looked more like an alligator than a human.
“Ladies,” he said, making a weirdly formal bow. “Looks like you might need some help.”
“Just a…” Maggie swallowed and looked into his eyes. “Phone that works.” Oh, darn it! Did she just admit their phones didn’t work?
Another man, tall and lanky and maybe a little younger, got off his bike. He wore a white T-shirt that had last been laundered when Reagan was in office, and his forearms were covered with words and eagles, and…was that a naked mermaid?
“My name’s Brick,” he said.
“Of course it is,” Maggie whispered, getting a vile look from Jo and a soft snort from Brick. “This is Randy”—he indicated the first man—“and Angel.”
“Angel?” Jo Ellen said on a laugh. “Well, we could use one of them.”
“My real name’s Gabriel,” the third man explained as he, too, got off his bike, shaking back some silver locks of his own. “But what you could use is a mechanic, and my brother up in Crawfordville has a garage and a tow-truck.”
Maggie breathed a little. “Well, that sounds…reasonable.”
Jo Ellen stepped in, all honey and kindness. “We’re so sorry to trouble you. Our truck seems to have…had an episode.”
Randy crouched under the hood, and Angel joined him, while Brick smiled at Maggie.
“I take it you ladies aren’t from around here?” he asked.
“Not far,” Maggie said.
“We’re on a road trip,” Jo Ellen said at the exact same time, making Maggie fight the urge to glare at her.
“So are we,” he said. “We take the same route every year in honor of our buddy Bear, who died right on this road.”
Maggie nearly swayed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Looks like your water pump blew,” Angel said. “Maybe the thermostat, too.”
“Translation?” Maggie asked.
Angel stepped away, wiping his hands on already filthy jeans. “Lemme call Mikey.” He held up a flip phone. “I always got bars.”
“And he’s usually in one,” Randy cracked.
He chuckled and made the call, and then informed them with his spare words that the tow-truck would be there in thirty.
“We’ll wait with you,” Brick said, looking at Maggie. “Not that I think anyone around here would harm you or you couldn’t take them down with that sharp tongue of yours, but it’ll be safer for you ladies.”
“Oh, thank you,” Jo Ellen cooed. “Let me get you some snacks and drinks.”
While she went to the back of the truck, Brick smiled at Maggie, his leathery skin making her think he was every bit as old as she was—minus the nightly Retin-A and sunhat she wore while gardening.
“You think I’m going to kill you, don’t you?” he asked with a sly smile.
She drew back. “I don’t…”
He laughed and reached into his pocket and for a moment, she thought he was going to pull out a gun or a knife. But it was just an iPhone.
“Want to see my grandchildren? I got four, and they’re darn near perfect.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t help laughing at the unexpected statement. “I have four, too. And they’re also perfect.”
His brows shot up, impressed. “Well, lemme see ’em and we’ll let Angel decide whose grandchildren are cuter. Don’t put money on it, ’cause I’ll win.”
