Fat chance.
Aubrey Michaels is a straight-up psychopath with a needy fetish to tie my best friend down, and then, when he calls off their sex-a-thons, she calls the cops on him.
“I haven’t seen that broad in two months,” I hear Graham imparts sharply, already annoyed by the mention of her name as I continue to work on changing transmission fluid in one of our service vehicles today. “And I didn’t do anything.”
“Then why the hell is Dodger here?”
I snort out a half-ass chuckle becauseDodgeris the Sheriff Deputy.
And his real name is Henry Abbott.
All-star quarterback, we used to play in high school together, and he got a full ride to college until he blew his shoulder out and dropped his dream altogether.
“I didn’t do it,” I hear Graham immediately bark out in frustration. “I have alibis, Dodger.”
“I ain’t here for you,” I hear Dodger announce. “But you still sound guilty as hell.”
“You’re supposed to think that.”
“Bullshit. I’ve driven you into the station so many times, we should have a plaque with your name on it.”
Ha.
Ain’t that the truth?
“Micah,” I hear him call. “Need you, friend.”
My immediate thought is my son, and that something happened at the school as I roll myself out from underneath the mom van I’m working on.
I find him standing a few feet away with an envelope in his hand.
“What’s up?” I ask, pushing myself up from the creeper. “What happened?”
“Heath’s fine,” he says calmly as if already sensing or knowing it’d be my first go-to. “This is for you.”
He reaches out to give me what’s in his hands, and I hesitate.
My mortgage has been paid.
I don’t owe anyone any money.
I haven’t touched Aubrey Michaels with a ten-foot pole.
Dodger lifts his mystery file higher. “I don’t got all day, Wolfe.”
Plucking it from his grasp because he doesn’t need to be a dick about it, he tips his large beige hat at me, and I’m tempted to knock it off his head. “Sorry, man.”
Then he waltzes out like he didn’t just randomly come in, hand me over something confidential that needed a visit.
This can’t be good.
“Speaking of chaos,” I hear Graham sassing like a moron. “What trouble are you tryin’ to cause here, Dodger?”
“None of your business. Get back to work.”
“Ha!” I hear Owen bark out. “Thanks, Dodger. Bring that old pick-up truck in anytime.”
“Will do. Take care.”
