Page 126 of Property of Bob

But now the hood was down.

I smiled. “There she is.”

Bob looked at me. “You missed it?”

“Her,” I corrected him. “And yes.”

“It.”

I wrinkled my brow and frowned. “Don’t start.”

“It’s an RV.”

“She can hear you,” I whispered.

Bob looked at the RV, then at me. “You’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“And yet you like me.”

His mouth twitched. “Apparently.”

I tugged him toward the driver’s door.

Piney stepped in front of me. “Wait.”

I stopped. “What?”

“Before you start her, listen.”

“I’m listening.”

“Oil was low. Changed it. Battery was damn near dead, so I replaced it. One of your belts looked like it was being held together by prayer, so that’s new. Found a loose connection that was probably half the reason she kept dying on you.”

“See?” I looked at Bob. “She just needed some love.”

“She needed maintenance,” Piney corrected.

“Same thing.”

“No. It’s really fucking not,” he grumbled.

“What else?”

Piney glanced toward the front of the RV. “I want to look at the brakes again before you take it off the island. They’re working, but they’re not as pretty as I’d like.”

My excitement dipped a little. “So no field trip?”

“Not off the island.”

Shay groaned.

“But you can drive it around here,” Piney added. “I already did.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You drove my RV?”

“Somebody had to make sure it worked. And I parked it right back in the spot you had it.” He motioned to the RV. “Crooked as fuck.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” I asked.