“She had quite a scare tonight. Give her time to calm down.”
I shake my head. “She’s not coming back.”
Joel sighs. “We can’t afford to lose even the inept ones.”
“I know.”
His eyes flick to the digital clock on the dashboard. “Our time’s up. We need to stash the van.”
“You still got your Beetle?”
“Yeah,” Joel answers cautiously. “Why?”
“I’ll drop the last two dogs off.”
“In the Beetle? Not on your life.”
“It’s only a car.”
His eyes widen at the insult. “She’s a classic. I’ve had her forever.”
“Yeah. And?”
“You don’t do forever.”
“Relax, I’ll return her in one piece. She still runs okay?”
Joel looks even more affronted. “Better than this bucket of bolts.”
It’s close to midnight when we park the van in its customary spot in the garage. We transfer the carriers to the back seat of the VW Beetle and I ease myself behind the wheel.
“You’ll get rid of the tools?” Joel asks, stooping slightly to lean a forearm on the half-open window.
I pat the bag on the passenger seat. “I’ve got it covered. Don’t worry, old man.”
Joel grunts. “With you around, that’s like asking me not to breathe.”
Driving away, I locate a dumpster far enough away from my folks’ house and upend the bag of tools inside. A few minutes later, the announcement of the break-in crackles across the police scanner. I anticipated the announcement, but it’s still a shock to hear it broadcast so officially. Dragging in a breath, I mothball my fear. I can only hope the whistleblower erased my fingerprints from the wrecking bar in time.
It takes me nearly an hour to get both dogs settled with their new families. The look of pleasure on the faces of the beagles’ new guardians almost makes up for the disappointment of the night. I return the Beetle to Joel and lean against the wall in exhaustion, while he anxiously inspects the car in the fluorescent glow of the garage light.
“Hate to interrupt the love affair,” I drawl, “but did Mike and Sue handle their transfers okay?”
“Yeah, it all went smoothly,” Joel murmurs absently. He freezes suddenly, peering at a hairline scratch on the paintwork.
“That was already there,” I protest.
“It looks deeper.” He squints my way. “It’s late. You want to spend the night?”
Temptation tugs at me, but I shrug off its pull. “Nah, I’ll head home. I have an early-morning session scheduled at the gym.”
“All right.” Joel scuffs his feet on the oil-stained floor, his eyes suspiciously bright. “Tonight was good for me.”
I squeeze his shoulder. “It was good for me too.”
Retrieving my bike, I settle onto the seat and set off at an easy speed down the street, steeling myself not to sneak in a last glimpse in the side mirror, already seeing in my mind’s eye Joel’s solitary figure watching me drive away from him.
Halfway home, an odd urge to speak to Heather, to tell her all about tonight, curls like smoke inside me. I don’t understand the urge and I sure as heck don’t want to analyze it. All I know is I’m hungry for the sight of her. The late hour doesn’t bother me, but it might her. Tough.
