Clay understands this. He makes sure Braedon’s okay. Doesn’t mean it’s easy for either of them. But he does whatever he can for Braedon. And Clay hasn’t regretted a minute or a dollar spent to ensure Braedon’s well-being.
This conversation is making him feel closer to Steph. And his respect for her grows that much more. It’s uncomfortable as she leans her chest over his face to cut his hair. Uncomfortable but not unpleasant.
Clay says, “Do you think Teddy might have been working with Wags to steal those catalytic converters? Or to sell them? Maybe drive them to some scrap metal dealer out of the county?”
“It’s possible. Teddy and Wags hang out. They like to play pool at Knut’s. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wags started shooting off his mouth and one thing led to another.”
“Are you comfortable with me talking to Wags?”
“Oh hell,” says Steph, “sure. I don’t care. But just a heads-up. In one of our more heated arguments, the one that led to me carrying his stuff out and tossing it in the bed of his pickup, he accused me of ending our marriage because you’re back in town. He said that was the real reason I gave him an ultimatum. That I want to get back together with you.”
Clay is so tempted to ask,Well, do you?But there are a number of reasons that question is a bad idea. Mostly, he doesn’t know if he’s interested in Steph. Sure, he’s intrigued. The old attraction still feels present. She’s built a nice business for herself. She’s a good mother and has taken the courageous step to stand up for herself by demanding good behavior from her husband. Soon to be her ex-husband. Of all the women in town, he finds her the most attractive in all sorts of ways.
Or at least he did until this morning. Chief of Police Zoey Jensen is quirky as hell but she’s interesting. Clay thinks she’s beautiful. Smart and accomplished and, yes, a bit strange, but strange is interesting. And how weird is it that Clay kept his romantic distance in this town for a few months, then two women-of-interest swirl into his orbit on the same day? But that’s life, he figures. Ebbs and flows. The natural order of things is chaotic. Human beings want to make sense of it all, but that’s a fool’s folly.
“Well,” says Clay, “I’ll just level with Wags and tell him I see you on a regular basis. Once every six weeks. And he’s just going to have to deal with that. No matter how much it hurts him. Best to be honest.”
Steph laughs her sweet little laugh. That hasn’t changed in the last twenty-four years. “This is on me today. Your money is no good here.”
“No,” says Clay. “This is your job. This is how you support your kids. Wags sure as hell can’t contribute much.”
“That is true.” Steph lifts pieces of Clay’s hair to check them for length against each other. “But you’re not paying today. And there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”
CHAPTER 11
Frank’s Tire & Auto is a mile up the road. It’s an old building made of brick painted white. The brick and grout have been covered in so many coats that the imperfections have been filled and smoothed to almost nothing. The building’s exterior is beginning to look more like white vinyl than paint. The garage has three bays, and Clay sees Wags standing in one of them, reaching up to work on the undercarriage of a car that’s on the hydraulic lift. Wags stands about just under six feet and has a wiry frame and a six-months-pregnant beer belly. His black hair lies straggly and unwashed under a gray cap that matches his overalls.
Clay knew Wags when they were kids and back then didn’t have a problem with him. Nice enough guy. Not blessed with brains or a work ethic, but he wasn’t a bad kid. But kids have hopes and dreams and when those aspirations turn to shit, kids can grow into unpleasant adults. Clay doesn’t think Wags isviolent, but he also doesn’t think it’s a good idea to connect Steph to the upcoming conversation. He pulls his hat down tight on his head, hoping its years of use without a wash will not only hide his professionally groomed hair, but also the scent of shampoo and conditioner.
“Hey, Wags,” says Clay when he’s a few feet outside the garage.
It takes a moment to recognize who’s walking toward him. “Oh, hey, Clay.” He doesn’t sound thrilled.
“Got a minute?” says Clay. “Want to ask you about something.”
“A minute,” says Wags. “Got to get this done by four.”
“I seem to have misplaced my uncle. Wondering if you’ve seen him recently.”
Wags wipes his hands on a greasy rag. “Teddy?”
“Only uncle I got,” says Clay.
“Why you asking me?” says Wags.
“Because I’m asking everyone. And you fit into the category of everyone.”
Wags thinks for a moment, then says, “I saw him last week at Knut’s. Beat him three out of five in nine-ball. Cost him a six-pack of Schell’s.”
“Sounds like Teddy. Did he pay up?” says Clay.
“Yep. That very night. Ran to the liquor store and returned with a brown paper bag. Teddy always pays his debts. You can count on him for that.”
“Can you count on him for anything else?” says Clay.
“What do you mean by that?” says Wags.
“Did you two have any extracurricular projects together? Any side businesses? For fun or profit?”
