“I need to get her started first, and get her into the shop.” He nodded at me and jumped into the driver’s seat. I whirled my finger in the air, letting him know to try to start it. I was hoping that the engine would turn over from my tinkering. The Bronco struggles a bit, but all of a sudden fires to life. I wave my hand and urge him to pull it into the garage.
I follow behind, listening to it sputter and struggle. It sounded like there were more issues than I initially thought. Holt puts it in park and leaves it running while he steps down from the running board. Raising his voice he says, “running pretty rough, definitely needs some help.”
I run my hands through my hair and mutter, “what did they do to it,” and sigh with worry. I round the front of the vehicle and lift the hood again. Inspecting it.
Holt comes up next to me. “What did who do,” he asks, quirking his eyebrow quizzically and crossing his arms. I walk around to the drivers side, shut off the engine, and look at him.
“It looks like someone tampered with one of the battery cords, but it sounds like there is some other issue too,” I explain.
He looks a bit confused for a second, and then scrunches up his face. “You mean someone fucked with this truck on purpose? Why would they do that?”
“I’m not sure, but I intend to ask the owner today. She has to know something,” I say to him and cross my arms.
“She—She? You mean a woman owns this beauty?” He looked at me disbelievingly and scoffed a bit.
I sighed, not wanting to get into this with him. He would ask questions, questions that I didn’t have the answers to. “Yes, a woman owns this truck. She is a total pain in the ass too. A walking contradiction.”
He starts to chuckle. “What the hell is going on with you? That is the most you have said in one go in… well ever.”
“Nothing, man. I just had a weird night last night, that’s all.” He chuckles again and then opens his mouth.
“Hot weird?” He was just needling me, and I knew that. I let it get to me anyway and shoved him in the shoulder. “No dude, that’s fucked up,” I say exasperatedly. He is always the jokester. Always has been, even when our Mom’s new flavor of the month was beating the crap out of us. I know it was his way of coping, but it pissed me off sometimes.
“I had to fire Wes and his brother last night. It got ugly and they ended up beating the shit out of each other in the alley. At about the same time, this Bronco broke down. The driver, decided to be a hero and tried to break up the fight. She hit Wes in the head with the wooden handle of her umbrella—,” I am interrupted by Holt laughing hysterically. He is laughing so hard he is bent at the waist. “Did you say an umbrella,” he asks trying to get his breathing under control. Mostly, unsuccessfully.
“Yes, I did. Then I had to threaten Wes within an inch of his life to get him gone. Before he started in on her too,” I explained.
“Tell me more of this story, please. I know that isn’t it,” he practically begs. I shake my head and toss him a a pair of mechanic’s gloves.
Chapter 7
Meg
I see his truck pulling away out of the corner of my eye and breathe a sigh of relief as I enter the haven known as Doe’s. I take a deep breath, inhaling the strong scent of espresso mixed with the sweet pastries floating through the air. Walking up to the counter I smile at my close friend, Piper. She is leaning behind the display case, filling it with freshly made apple danishes. My mouth is watering. Piper straightens up and looks over the counter.
“Morning, sunshine!” She exclaims, smiling widely and puts the tray down as she makes her way over to the register. “I didn’t hear the green beast pull in!”
“I got a ride this morning,” I tried to answer casually, as if it were no big deal. Piper was a dog with a bone. When she wanted information she would’t let it go. If she sensed there was a story there, she would be all over it.
“Got a ride,” she stated questioningly, arching a light brown eyebrow. “Who gave you a ride, and why would you need one?”
Here comes the Spanish Inquisition. I sigh. “I broke down last night on my way home from the Gala in High Ridge. I happened to breakdown in front of an auto body shop and the owner was still there. He has been kind enough to chauffeur me around until he can get it fixed,” I explain to her. I hope that it was enough to curb her curiosity.
I know that she will think about it this morning some more, but at least I will have a few hours before she starts the interrogation again. “Can I get a latte with 2 extra espresso shots and one of those pastries you just put in the case?” I was hoping to distract her with my order.
“Sure, give me just a sec—I’ll get those right out for you. And don’t think you are getting away with that bare bones story you just told me,” she wags her index finger at me and smiles. She tucks a loose strand of her coppery colored hair behind her ear and spins away.
I stand off to the side and start scrolling through my phone. I fire off a few e-mails and notice one from a sender I don’t recognize. It isn’t one of my regular clients or a friend. I skip over opening it, and decide to look at it when I’m in my office. It could be a referral.
“Here you go, Meg. You are all set,” Piper cheerfully announces. I reach in my backpack for my wallet only to be stopped by her tsk. “ It’s on the house this morning, think of it as prepayment for the entertainment you will provide me with your story from last night.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure, that sounds fair,” I mutter. “ I have a lot of work to do and only have a few hours to do it. I scurry out the back door and ascend the staircase. My office is on the second floor behind the coffee shop. It truly is heaven on earth for me. My office is above aCOFFEE SHOP. I unlock the door and go to step over the threshold and freeze. There is a piece of paper on the floor. Someone must have slipped it under the door.
I reach down to pick it up and unfold it. My breath hitches a bit at the two words—Die, Bitch.“Could have been a bit more original,” I mumble trying to shake off my nerves with a bit of sarcasm. First, my green monster— and now someone leaving a threatening note. Generally, I don’t believe in coincidences. I’mhaving a hard time fooling myself right now. I scan my small office. Everything looks to be in place. My desk sits undisturbed, it is a bit messy, but that is how I left it. The “conference room”, which is really another office that has a small table and chairs in it, is just like I left it too.
I gingerly set the note on the side of my desk and sit down in the chair. I am trying to come up with a logical explanation for this.Mistaken identity? Weird stalker?
My mind is spinning. I don’t recall upsetting anyone this much. Maybe they think I am someone else? I am mulling this over and jump when my phone starts to buzz. Picking it up, I see that it is Piper.
