Shepherd's Watch

by Angie Counios

  I hand them to him and he runs out to Dad’s car to grab his backpack from the front seat. But before coming back in, he studies the muscle car’s license plate.

  “Even has his name on the vanity plate,” Charlie chuckles under his breath to me as he digs through his backpack. Finally, he pulls out what appears to be an old cell phone.

  “Um. What’s that?” I ask.

  He shows it to me. “A couple of classmates are amateur car thieves—they built it as a rolling jam between the signal from a key fob and a car. You flip it on and it blocks you from locking your car.”

  “You’re going to steal his car?”

  Charlie’s eyebrows shoot up. “ ’Course not,” he says, all defensive. He slides the switch. Immediately, the alarm on Huber’s car starts blaring, as do a couple more cars across the street.

  “My guys never could get it working right,” Charlie says with a grin.

  Huber looks up instantly and snatches at his keys. He points the key fob past Charlie and me, but the car alarm continues whooping. Frustrated, he steps out from the counter, trying again.

  Zip, zilch, nada.

  “What the—” He forces a smile at us as he pushes past and outside. He tries again with no success, then attempts to open the car door. Now he’s pissed, struggling between pushing buttons on his key fob and tugging on the door handle. Finally, he calms down enough to unlock the car manually.

  “What did you do?” I ask, but Charlie can’t hear me over the deafening sound.

  He shakes his head, laughing as Huber eventually gives up and starts the car. The over-powered engine rumbles to life before he drives around to the garage side of the building.

  We can still hear the horn blasting away in the back bays, though it’s a bit quieter now.

  “Was it supposed to do that?”

  “For car thieves? No. You sort of want stealth in that line of work.” He smiles broadly. “But for me? Worked perfectly.”

  chapter 29

  We watch the woman we think is Miranda going about her work behind the big office window, seemingly oblivious to what’s going on around her.

  “Not real good at customer interaction, is she?” Charlie sighs.

  “How do we get her out here?”

  Charlie walks up to the front desk and takes a business card from the stack in the clear card holder next to the phone. He takes out his phone and dials the number.

  Seconds later, the phone on the front desk rings several times, but no one comes to answer it. Miranda doesn’t even look up. Eventually, it goes to voicemail.

  “This woman needs a new career.” He hangs up his phone and calls again.

  At the repeated ringing, she sighs visibly and takes a sip of her coffee. Finally, she pushes away from the computer and walks out to the front desk.

  Charlie hangs up and slips the phone into his pocket.

  The woman grabs the receiver and says, “Hello, Huber Motors.” She waits a second, listening to the silence, before trying again. “Hello?” She shakes her head.

  “Did they just hang up?” Charlie asks goes over to her. “That’s just rude. You’d think with caller id the days of prank calls would be over.”

  “You’d think that, wouldn’t you,” she agrees.

  “Some people will always be wiseasses, I guess,” Charlie adds.

  Miranda glances from him to me. The sight of two teenagers in her shop only seems to annoy her more. Still, can’t neglect a potential paying customer. “Can I help you?”

  Well, if this is Miranda, I can see what Laurie was talking about. She definitely thinks she’s better than us and I feel Charlie’s ire rising.

  “Do you need to have your car checked out?”

  Charlie nods to the tank beside our car. “Nope, just some propane.”

  She peers outside and sees Dad’s high-end vehicle. She’s impressed.

  “Also, I’d like to purchase this map.” He tosses a coiled book on the counter. “Oh, and this fuzzy peach air freshener.” He digs a little plastic-wrapped paper tree out of his pocket and sets it on the map book.

  She picks it all up and walks over to the register.

  Charlie watches her, assessing. “We’re not from here,” he continues. He steps away from the counter and nods at me. “Go on, money man. Pay the good woman.”

  I feel like he’s casting his line and I’m the hook. Guess it’s time to put my interpersonal skills to work.

  I step to the counter. “You don’t give me the impression of being from here either,” I say.

  “What do you mean by that?” she asks defensively.

  “You’re too—I don’t know—city?”

  The tight crease between her eyebrows disappears as she, curious, lowers her guard.

  “I just imagine a small town admin assistant being different.” I throw in a smile, turning on the charm.

  And she softens. “That’s nice of you to notice. Most people around here call me a secretary. They don’t realize I’m more than that.”

  I lean on the counter, making eye contact. “No one minds their own business, do they?”

  “Small town gossip is a killer,” she agrees.

  “No privacy?”

  “Yeah. One of the reasons I liked the city better, I guess.”

  “The city? Where are you from?” I ask.

  “I lived out east for a while,” she tells us.

  “Then you moved here.” We’re on a roll now. Maybe I can get what we need.

  “I’m from here originally.” She grimaces as if she’s unhappy to admit this fact.

  “You miss it? The city?”

  “Yeah,” she says.

  “I bet it’s hard to even get a decent cup of coffee in this place.”

  “Seriously,” she rolls her eyes. “What I wouldn’t do for an expresso.”

  Behind me, Charlie coughs at her mispronunciation. We ignore him and he wanders back to the magazine rack—though I’m sure he’s eavesdropping

  “I know what you mean.” I’m trying to get to the info we want, but I’m starting to feel sorry for this woman. “Is that coffee shop down the road any good?”

  She snorts. “No. The service is shit, the coffee is bad. I wouldn’t go there.”

  Nope, Laurie and Miranda are definitely not friends.

  “So why stay here, then? You’d be great in the city.”

  She winces. “Well, it didn’t work out.” She searches for the right words. “You end up being so anonymous there…”

  She’s pretty for small town and probably had talent, but when she got to the city, she was a little fish in a great big pond, and was probably ignored in a way she wasn’t used to. It’s kind of sad, no matter how rude she is to potential customers.

  “It’s nice here, though,” I say. “And a woman like you? You must have lots of guys chasing after you around here.”

  “Well…” she giggles, “yes.” Her friendliness seems genuine.

  “Ah, I can tell there’s someone special.”

  She blushes. “There is now.”

  “Only now? There wasn’t someone before?”

  Her grin fades. “Yeah, but he was going nowhere.”

  Now we’re getting to the truth. “That’s too bad.”

  “He didn’t care about nice things. Things were always just good enough for him.”

  “It’s tough to be with someone who isn’t on the same page.”

  Charlie wanders away to look out the front window—his apparent boredom makes our conversation seem even more natural. Somewhere in the near distance, the blaring horn of Huber’s muscle car finally stops.

  “It’s true,” Miranda says into the sudden silence, eager to complain about Terry. “He’d come to work. Go home. Drink beer. That’s it.”

  “He must’ve taken yo
u out for supper or something?”

  She laughs. “I’d be so lucky. He’d rather be on the lake with his buddy Pete than go out.”

  This is interesting. “The lake?”

  “Yeah, their monthly fishing trip. I’m sure it was just an excuse to get wasted.”

  “But you never went?”

  Miranda eyes drop to her fingers as they pluck the metal coils of the map binding. “He’d take me out other times, but his trip with Pete was sacred.”

  “He’d choose hanging out with someone else over you?”

  She nods. “Third Friday of every month and no girls allowed.”

  “Huh. Just like clockwork, hey?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’d’ve pissed on schedule if someone told him to.”

  “Doesn’t sound too exciting, I’ve got to say.”

  I must’ve hit on something because she gets animated and leans in too. “Right? A girl wants passion.”

  “And the new guy? He’s all about the romance?”

  Her dimples appear and they make her kind of cute. “Yeah. He’s great.”

  As if on cue, Huber comes in from the back. “What’s going on?”

  Miranda pulls back. “Nothing.”

  I can see it in his eyes—some black teenager he’s never seen before, talking to his girl, and a shaggy haired kid lurking around his store. He’s instantly suspicious.

  “They were—” she pauses and it doesn’t help the situation, “just asking me about when I lived in the city.”

  I feel I should help. “Also, buying some propane.”

  Then Charlie’s at the counter. “And this map and fine fuzzy peach air freshener.”

  “Really?” Huber’s tone is condescending.

  Charlie nods and I stand there smiling like the guiltiest fool around. I’m sure Charlie will give me crap about it later.

  Miranda speaks up, “Honest, Brent—”

  Huber glares at Miranda and I figure he’s going to scream at her once we leave. He’s only been here for thirty seconds and already it feels too long.

  “Well, then. Is there anything else, boys?” Huber says, making it clear who he thinks is in charge.

  “Nope, just the propane… and this.” I push Charlie’s stuff closer to the till.

  “Miranda, help these kids out so they can be on their way.” He says her name with bite; his instructions sound more like an order.

  Miranda rings in the air freshener and map book, and I notice her fingers trembling.

  Everything I’ve done to get Miranda talking melts in Huber’s presence.

  “That’ll be $32.07,” she says.

  I pull out my wallet and take out a couple of bills. Charlie scoops up his stuff as soon as her hands are on the cash.

  With Huber being such a dick, I feel sorry for her. “It was really nice talking with you, Miranda. I hope you make it back to the city.”

  She forces a sad smile as we walk out.

  chapter 30

  We’re almost to the car when I realize Huber has followed us out. Charlie immediately gets into a defensive position while I distance myself behind Dad’s vehicle.

  “Who the hell are you kids?”

  Charlie channels his glorious inner punk-ass, opens the air freshener, and gives it a deep whiff. He savours it for a second before releasing a big, contented sigh. “Just a couple of customers.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. What do you want?”

  He takes a step toward Huber. “We were just wondering if Terry knew about you and Miranda in there?”

  Huber looks like he wants to grab Charlie and rough him up, but there’s enough people driving past on Main Street that causing a scene would be bad for business.

  “What are you? Some little drugheads thinking you can roll on in here and bust my ass?”

  “Nope,” Charlie says. “It’s just that you don’t seem too broken up that Terry’s gone missing.”

  Huber pushes Charlie against the car. “You suggesting I had something to do with that?”

  I can see Charlie’s pissed as he pulls himself off the hood and straightens his shirt, but he doesn’t let it rattle him. “No. But I’m sure the police have some questions for you.”

  Huber smiles, shaking a finger at him. “See, kid, that’s where you’re full of crap. You came down here to threaten me and you’ve got nothing.”

  Charlie is unfazed and stares angrily at him. He’s waiting. This guy is enough of a loud mouth that he just might fall into Charlie’s trap and tell us exactly what we want to hear.

  “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but the cops? We’re old buddies around here, and they know all about me and Miranda. When he kept breaking into her house, I was the one who called them. So don’t try your empty threats on me or I’ll be sure to talk to them about you.” He pokes Charlie in the chest. “Now you and the black kid can get off my property. Make sure to never come back. Got it?”

  I swing the propane tank into the back of the vehicle and am more than ready to leave, but Charlie stands his ground a moment longer. He sniffs the air freshener again.

  “You know, this is kind of stale. Can I get a refund?”

  chapter 31

  I drag Charlie off Huber’s lot before it comes to blows. It’s a good thing Dad doesn’t go there anymore—he’d for sure get terrible service if he ever took the car there again.

  We drive down Main Street and I’m thinking we’ve had enough excitement for the day. Time to get the groceries.

  “Expresso?” Charlie exclaims, out of nowhere.

  “Seriously?” Now it’s my turn to exclaim. “That’s what got you riled up?”

  He waves a dismissive hand. “She sounded like a hillbilly.”

  I stare at him and he’s actually offended by her misuse of the word. I know he likes his high quality coffee, but seriously? “Um, hello? You almost got in a fist-fight with a dude in the middle of Main Street.”

  “So? It’s espresso! Ess. Not Ex!”

  I erupt into laughter so sudden and hard I almost can’t breathe. I always think I know how far he’ll go and then he surprises me again.

  Charlie sighs. “But you, Shepherd. Colour me impressed. She played right into your tall, dark, and handsome charms.”

  “Not as much as Huber played into yours.”

  Charlie gleams at the thought. “Yeah, that was almost too easy.”

  “He’s definitely a suspect.”

  Charlie glances over at me. “Still just a missing person case, Shepherd.”

  “I know. But he’s not doing himself any favours.”

  “No,” Charlie agrees. Then adds, “Did you see his fingernails? Really well kept. I think he even waxes the hair on his hands. The guy doesn’t like getting dirty. Weird for someone who owns a garage.”

  “So he’s not really a tough guy?”

  Charlie considers it. “Possibly. I was pushing him pretty hard back there, and he should’ve taken a swing but didn’t.”

  “Maybe he thought it would look bad?’

  But Charlie’s already shaking his head. “He could have gotten away with it. Two kids come in, causing trouble. And like he said, he knows the cops.”

  “So you were pretty sure he wasn’t going to clobber you?”

  “Well, not at first, but the more I pushed, the less likely I thought he would. He had all kinds of opportunity but didn’t take it.”

  “Meaning, he has nothing to do with Terry’s disappearance.”

  “Meaning, he’s a pussy and would never do it himself.”

  “He could’ve hired someone to kill him.”

  Charlie slugs my arm. “Remember, Shepherd, Terry’s not officially dead.”

  “Yeah, fine,” I say sarcastically, “so you think Huber hired someone to politely show Terry the way out o
f town?”

  Charlie takes it seriously, though, talking it through. “Huber dresses pseudo-rich with those logo golf shirts. He probably picked them up at some outlet mall so he didn’t have to spend big money. He’s either cheap or seriously in debt, so hiring someone to get rid of his girlfriend’s ex would be the last thing he’d do.”

  I’m confused. “Then, what? Is he a suspect or not?”

  “I don’t know, Shepherd. This is just the way my brain processes things.”

  “And what about Miranda?”

  “The secretary?

  “Admin assistant,” I snicker, but Charlie ignores me.

  “She seemed pretty upset.” Charlie’s tone is thoughtful.

  “And scared of Huber when he caught her talking to us,” I add.

  He nods his agreement. “But we shouldn’t rule her out just yet. When you start snooping into these things, it’s often the least suspicious person who’s to blame.”

  Charlie pulls out his phone and taps away at it. “Turn left up ahead.”

  “Why?” We were almost at the grocery store. “Where are we going?”

  “Miranda’s. I think we need to do more than just scratch the surface, dig a little deeper.”

  I sigh, knowing whatever he has planned, it probably won’t be legal.

  chapter 32

  We drive east from Main Street down a picturesque street. Tall pine and spruce trees border the yards. We pass the town’s water tower and Charlie whistles at it.

  “You could totally throw somebody off that if you needed to.”

  I stare at him.

  “What?” he says. “I’m just saying it would be easy to fake a suicide.”

  “Is murder all you think about?”

  “Hey, that’s how we keep one step ahead of all the crazies.”

  “And you wonder why people shy away from you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Charlie checks his phone. “Take a right on the boulevard after the hill.”

  Ah, information in the digital age! Everyone’s private information at your fingertips, if you know where to look.

  We crest a small rise and leave the rest of the town behind us in the valley. I turn south and the trees come to an end. The road opens into a double lane thoroughfare. Newer neighbourhoods comprised of long rows of similar-looking homes appear, their ornamental shutters and ornate house numbering are the only things that distinguish one from another.