I dug it out as my father’s lawyer’s number flashed across the screen.
Great. What now?
I punched the green button, sucking in a breath. “This is Avery,” I said, once it was put up to my ear.
“Mr. McAllister,” Ted Evans greeted. “How was your drive up from the city?”
“Long.” Grabbing my bag, I looped the strap over my shoulder and hip checked the door closed. “Just got in. But I assume you’re not calling just to check in on my travels.”
He chuckled. “Straight to the point as always, I see. I wanted to run something by you. Going through your dad’s paperwork, I noticed that there was something else that I’d missed when we were going over the estate. It seems he also has an off-property garage that has a few classic cars stored in it.”
That had me blinking in surprise.
Classic cars?
Since when was my father ever into anything old?
That man was notorious for being a habitual upgrader, especially with his women.
What use would a couple of classic cars have in his possession when he was barely ever in the country as it was?
“How many?” I asked.
There was some rustling of paperwork before he said, “Looks like four.”
Four more problems to deal with.
“Where is the garage? I assume that it’s gated and I’ll need a passcode to get into it.”
“Yes. I can send all of that information over to you. I also have a set of keys here to open the garage but the facility also has a spare set that they’ll let you borrow. I called already to let them know about the situation. You just need to show them your ID.”
Checking the time on my Rolex, I noted there was still a little bit of time in the day that I could run over there and see what exactly I was going to be forced to deal with. The only problemnow was that I had no fucking clue about classic cars outside of my slight knowledge from when I was a teenager.
My heart squeezed at the memory, driving me to push it back into its box in the back of my mind and lock the damn padlock before I was forced to unpack that shit that had been long since buried.
Clearing my throat, I said, “You have any recommendations for places around here that can assess cars like that?”
The sound of his fingers moving across his keyboard filled the speaker. “There is a repair shop that’s known for working on classics. It’s calledCarmichael’s Body Shop.I’ll send you the info.”
“Thanks. I’ll head over there now and talk to them.”
Pulling the phone away from my ear, I ran a hand across my face, massaging my thumb and pointer against my eyes.
Classic cars...
What the fuck?
As if my life could get any less ironic.
CHAPTER 2
Brandon
“All right,Mr. Nelson. That’ll be $86.50. You want to pay cash or card?”
The old man in front of me grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “this is fuckin’ highway robbery”before throwing a few bills and a handful of change onto the counter.
I forced a smile on my face and slid the money across the counter, the register chiming with a pleasant sound as I opened it up to deposit the cash inside. The funny thing was that out of anyone in the surrounding area, I was the cheapest.
