She grins.“You forget, I’ve got a couple of boys too; I recognize the look of exasperation on your face.Pretty sure I’ve worn that same expression from time to time.”
That’s right, I knew she had boys.I’ve been preoccupied getting us settled in, the boys ready for school, and myself up to speed at work, I haven’t really had the time to connect with people on a more personal level.Maybe that’s what I need for a better balance in my life.
“Exasperation, huh?Guess that describes my state pretty accurately this morning,” I return.“Any tips or suggestions are welcome; maybe over drinks some time?”
“Friday night my husband is taking the boys to Spokane to see the new Marvel movie on the big screen.Why don’t you pop by?I’ve got a fully stocked bar,” she adds with a wink.
“Sounds tempting,” I admit.“Let me check in with my hoodlums to see what they have going on that night.”
“Yeah, of course.See if it works.”
She starts walking away before she stops and turns.
“Oh, before I forget, I sent a copy of the forensics report you were waiting for to your email.It must’ve come in late last night.”
Finally.
About two weeks ago a local hunter stumbled onto what looked to be a brand-new Ford Mustang, abandoned on one of the old logging roads heading up Black Mountain.The vehicle had been intentionally covered with brush—clearly intended to hide it from view—and when the hunter peered inside the window and noticed the passenger seat covered in blood, he immediately contacted us.
Judging from the sheer volume of blood, it looked like someone bled out in that vehicle, but we found no evidence of a body, just a few smeared prints on the inside of the door.A VIN search on the Mustang came back to a stolen vehicle from the upscale Spokane neighborhood of Rockwood.A blood test confirmed the blood to be human, but who it might have belonged to, as well as the whereabouts of the victim, has remained a mystery.
Hoping the forensics report will give me some guidance on this damn case I’ve been spinning my wheels on these past weeks, I rush to my desk.
*****
Clem
“Go home,Kyle.I’ll finish it up.”
As glad as I am the new, young mechanic I hired on after reopening the garage does not seem averse to working longer hours, it’s already been a long-ass day and I’m fucking starving.
“You sure?”the scrawny, redheaded kid asks, poking his head out from under the hood of the Infinity he’s working on.
“Yep.Get out of here, it’s Friday night.I’ll see you in the morning.”
Tomorrow will be a busy day, but Manuel should be back, so there will be three of us to tackle the work.Manuel had a rare few days off to visit his ailing mother.One of only a few times he asked for time off since he started working for me over ten years ago.
Anyway, we’ll be at full strength tomorrow and should hopefully be able to clear out the back lot before next week.
I follow Kyle to the front and lower the massive bay door behind him, locking myself in for the night.
When fire leveled the old auto shop—which had been in the family for generations—I wasn’t sure I’d have the heart or drive to rebuild Main Street Mechanics from the ground.It would’ve taken a year at least, during which time I wouldn’t have had an income and I’d likely have lost most of my customers in the interim.Aside from that, the business had already outgrown the shop, and there wasn’t a large enough real estate footprint to build anything bigger.
Repurposing the old fire hall had been at the suggestion of Hugo Alexander, Edwards County Deputy Sheriff, who is a buddy of mine.The place had sat vacant since they built the large new fire station on the outskirts of Silence.It had taken a bit of negotiating and working out a bit of creative financing, but I was able to buy it and set up shop here.
Turning the lights off in the shop—I’ll come back down later to finish replacing the hoses on that Infinity—I head up the open stairway to the second level and aim straight for the spacious open kitchen and the cold beer in my fridge.
Originally, the upper level had housed the living and sleeping quarters for the fire crew but, with some minor renovations, I’d turned it into a comfortable apartment for myself.
The insurance check I’d received for the old place hadn’t been enough to cover the cost of the fire hall, so I ended up selling the small house I’d called home for fifteen or so years to make up the difference.I didn’t really have any emotional connection to the house anyway—the shop was my home and I spent the bulk of my time there—but it had been somewhere to lay my head at night.
With the extra money I was able to make a few adjustments to this upper floor, and already it feels more like a home than the house ever did.Although I suspect the smell of motor oil that follows me up here has a little something to do with that.
Along with a beer, I pull a block of cheese from the fridge, cutting off a chunk to tide me over until I can get some dinner together.I’m thinking I’ll cut up some vegetables and a couple of those spicy sausages I picked up, and toss them on a baking tray in the oven.They can cook while I drink my beer and watch the news.
I’ve been trying to watch what I eat.I never took the time to cook much before, just popped in a freezer meal in the microwave or stopped in at the diner for something greasy.It showed in the gut I’d been steadily growing since I hit my forties.Then right after the fire, I went in to see the new doc for a checkup.The guy warned me that with my high cholesterol and blood pressure, I was heading for a heart attack unless I started living healthier.Seeing as my father dropped dead from a heart attack when he was just a few years older, I took the warning and made some changes.
A lot has changed this past year and though I’m not normally a fan of changes, I feel I’ve landed in a pretty good place.My business is steady, my health is better, I’ve got my friends, my Thursday night poker game, and a kick-ass place that feels like a home to put my feet up at the end of the day.What else do you need?
