Healing the Doctor's Heart

by Shirley Hailstock

  At Mike’s name she jumped off the bench. “I’ll be back.” She tugged at Beau’s leash. Mr. Reedy followed behind, the oxygen canister slowing him down. “No oval rear window. I’d say it was a ’95 model.”

  “Not bad.”

  “Max trained me well.” She smiled at the memory of the knobby-kneed teenager who had taken advantage of her late father’s godfather, demanding he take her under his wing. “Taught me everything I knew about engines until I became ASE certified. Since then I’ve kept steady hours as a mechanic or an auto-body repair specialist.” And, with luck and a good interview, she’d add pit crew member to the list in three months—if Brett Cullinan hired her for the racing newcomer’s team. Until she heard from the veteran crew boss, she worked for Max and would take as much weight off his shoulders as possible during his medical tests. “What about it, Mr. Reedy? I’ll drop you and Beau at home and come back and run diagnostics.”

  He frowned and shot her the same glare he had in high school whenever he caught her studying an engine schematic or sharing a laugh with Mike rather than paying attention to his teaching. “How much will that cost? Can’t afford much. Not with Beau’s nightly hot dog.”

  Mr. Reedy put up a good front, always hiding his big heart under that gruff exterior. If it weren’t for him, she’d still be at her high school desk, taking history for the twelfth year in a row. Nudging her grade up two points, he might as well have signed her high school diploma. It was way past time for her to return the favor.

  “The cost of the diagnostic test is free if you get your car repaired on premises.” Based on what he’d described, the repair wouldn’t be cheap. Brakes and maybe a new catalytic converter. She wouldn’t know for certain until the results were in. “And today’s senior citizen special is twelve months, no interest.”

  So she was bending the rules to their breaking point. Max would do the same.

  “Might not be anything bad. Might be something a quart of oil can fix.”

  Not likely. Georgie bit her tongue, holding her response in check. “Only one way to know for sure.”

  “Fine. Run the test.” His lips pursed into a straight line, too blue for Georgie’s comfort. “If the cost is too much, I’ll lose my car. Lose my independence.” He shuffled away, Beau following him. He stopped and looked back. “Don’t mind me. Once I get a strong cup of coffee inside me, I’ll be my usual geezer self instead of this miserly grinch.”

  Independence. That was one word Georgie understood well. She caught up with him at the bench. “I’ll need your keys.”

  Mike Harrison strode out of the repair shop. Way back in high school, he was the last person she’d expected to become a cop. After all, they’d spent quite a few Friday nights toilet papering yards. Still, his shoulders, husky and broad, filled his navy uniform well. His cropped hair was slightly darker, almost a dirty blond now. Those chocolate-brown eyes of his held more responsibility, more authority.

  “Georgie.” He approached, his tone lacking the laughing cadence of the past. “Have you worked here long enough to determine what’s missing?”

  “Of course.” She turned and patted Mr. Reedy’s arm. “You wait right here. I’ll be back.”

  “Will you be okay with Georgie’s dog?” Mike’s tone was as cautious as his gaze.

  Mr. Reedy yanked at the leash. “Beau’s mine.”

  Mike glanced at Beau, then at her.

  Georgie shrugged. “I kill houseplants.”

  “Follow me.”

  Her stomach roiled at entering the place someone had robbed earlier. The thieves wouldn’t take her peace of mind. She wouldn’t let them. Lifting her chin, she went inside and cleared her throat. “Is it okay to touch everything again?”

  “Sure. No usable prints on the windows, knobs or any other surface. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was an inside job.”

  All the oxygen escaped her lungs. Had he just accused her of breaking into Max’s Auto Repair? Max was the closest person she had to a father. She popped her hands onto her hips. “Is that your professional opinion?”

  “It wasn’t directed at you. Any new hires besides you? I’m assuming the Crowes still work here.”

  “No one else. And Travis and Heidi love this place. Surely you know them. Everyone does.” She waited until he nodded.

  “Older couple. He’s tall and skinny? She’s short and round?” Hand gestures accompanied the descriptions.

  “You make them sound like Jack Sprat and his wife.” Georgie chuckled. “It’s just me and them.” If Max was like a father, they were her honorary aunt and uncle. “They just celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary. She’s the office manager while Travis is about the best diesel mechanic I’ve ever met. Considering how many places I’ve worked, that’s saying something.”

  She’d lost count of the number of cities and towns where she’d made pit stops. Boston, Atlanta and Seattle were a few of the places she’d called home for a brief time, with her current address technically being her apartment in Nashville. Until Kevin Doherty proposed, she hadn’t wanted to settle down. After Kevin left, she especially didn’t want to settle down.

  “When are they supposed to get here?” Mike asked.

  “Any minute now. I arrived early to read the operation manual for Max’s diagnostic scanner. It’s an older model, almost a relic compared to the newer ones.”

  “Since Travis is familiar with the equipment and customers, why didn’t Max leave him in charge?”

  Really?

  He held up his hands, so her patented glare must have worked. “I hadn’t heard about Max leaving or your return. They’ve worked here forever, and it’s a logical question.”

  Okay, he had a point. Besides, she’d asked Max the same question. “They like to travel and don’t want the responsibility.” She hesitated. “Anyway, Max wanted to give me a shot at buying him out.”

  “Why now? Why didn’t you come back to Hollydale a year ago or a year from now?”

  Another long pause filled the air, laden with tension. “Last Friday my mother had a stent procedure in Asheville. I promised I’d stay with her while she recovered. When I called Max to see if he had an opening, he went one further.” She paused. While her mother’s condition was out in the open, Max’s wasn’t. A stickler for honesty, she chose her words with caution. “When I asked to rejoin his staff, he said it was about time he visited his sister in Florida. And this would be a trial run so I could decide if I wanted to buy the business or not. I started back yesterday.”

  “What are you keeping from me?”

  He knew. He could always tell when she held something back. “Why do you ask?”

  “Your face is ashen.”

  “It’s been quite a morning.” Her shaky smile wasn’t convincing him or herself, but it was the best she could manage. Mike was here about the burglary, not to jump-start their friendship colder than a junkyard battery. She glanced around and headed for the door marked Closet.

  “Georgie, I’m not worried about cleaning supplies and toilet paper.”

  “That’s Max’s idea of a joke.” She pulled keys out of her pocket and jingled them. “This is his private office. Despite the closeness of this town, not many people know that.”

  She unlocked the door, and her jaw dropped. Someone knew this was Max’s office. Pink and yellow invoices lay scattered over the floor like confetti. The file cabinet’s metal drawers hung open, with manila folders in disarray. Exhaling, she collapsed onto the floor. It would take her and Heidi all morning to clean up this mess.

  Mike picked up an invoice and studied it. “Doesn’t Max believe in computers?”

  Shrugging, she pulled herself together. “Different mechanics have different methods of remembering customers.” The blood drained out of her face. “Max’s folder.”

  She rifled through the filing cabinet. The familiar yellow
binder was nowhere in sight. Neither were his comic books. Thank goodness he’d taken those with him. Her legs wobbled with the rubbery consistency of a Michelin. Max had taken his collection, hadn’t he?

  “Can I make a phone call?”

  Mike laughed. “I usually mention phone calls after a Miranda warning.” Her face must have given him pause, and he handed her his phone. “Who are you calling and why?”

  “Max.” She gulped, and her shoulders slumped.

  “Use the speaker function.”

  She pressed oh-so-familiar numbers on the screen. Three rings, four, five. Finally someone answered.

  “Hello, Max?”

  “Georgie? Why did the number for the sheriff’s office pop up on my screen?” Max’s scraggly deep voice, fresh from slumber, made her stomach roil worse than the break-in. She refused to meet Mike’s gaze. This was hard enough without looking at him.

  “You took your comic books with you to Florida, right?” She crossed her fingers for luck. Something had to go her way today.

  “No. I left them at the shop. It’s got a security system. Didn’t see the need in paying for one for my home when they charge me enough to guard my shop.” A loud yawn came over the line. “What’s wrong?”

  Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Waking him up only to deliver bad news upon bad news was harder than she’d expected. That growing dread in her throat became downright metallic.

  “This is Officer Michael Harrison.” Mike saved her from having to speak. “I’m investigating a reported burglary at your repair shop.”

  “Georgie? Are you okay?” Alarm came out of Max’s voice, and she loved him for it. “Are Travis and Heidi there? Are they safe?”

  “No one was here when the burglary happened.”

  “That’s good, very good.” Max cleared his throat. “I’ll be back in twelve to fourteen hours.”

  “No!” Georgie raised her voice, and Mike’s eyes narrowed. “You told me you haven’t seen your sister in years. Surely she wants to introduce you to her friends and other people.”

  If only Max would read between the lines. Scans of a tumor suspected of being malignant were more important than comic books. His life was worth way more. His sister had agreed, insisting Max consult with her oncologist in Florida rather than one closer to home.

  “Max, what type of comic books are we talking about?” Mike held up his hand before she could start talking again.

  “Golden Age, mint condition, all in protective covers.”

  Mike rubbed his hand over his chin and whistled. “Have you had them appraised?”

  “Uh...yeah. Five years ago. They were worth thirty-five thousand dollars.”

  “Let the police investigate.” Georgie’s words tumbled out.

  Comic books could be replaced. Max couldn’t. Sometimes he was too rash for his own good. A Vietnam vet and one tough customer, he wouldn’t take any of this lying down. Eleven years ago she’d lost her best friend, Mike. Friday her mother had undergone serious surgery. She couldn’t lose her mentor. “Stay in Florida. You can’t do anything here.”

  Max’s sigh ripped through her. “I should stay. Would I be able to help or would I get in the way, Officer Harrison?”

  “We’ll investigate the best we can.” Mike met her gaze. As if he read her concern, he held out his palms and his eyes widened. “I can’t decide for him.”

  She threw him a grateful smile. “Please, Max. Give the police a little time.”

  “The doctor my sister recommended canceled and rescheduled my appointment for a week from today.”

  Some good news at last. If the doctor postponed Max’s scans, Max’s case might not be that urgent. He might make a full recovery and maybe even come back to Hollydale. She’d grab that hope and run with it.

  “If the police solve the case in the meantime, you’d lose that appointment and valuable days with it. I’ve got everything under control. I’ll call you tonight with the latest update.” She said goodbye and ended the call.

  Mike crossed his arms and leveled a stern gaze. “I was about to ask Max for more information.”

  She stood, stretched and shook her head. “Let the poor man have a cup of coffee first. Please finish up so Heidi and I can open sometime today.” Weighing her options made her pause. There was a lot for her to get her head around. “And Mr. Reedy will be frozen if we dawdle much longer.”

  “The police department will use all its resources to solve this and help Mr. O’Hara.” He glanced out the window. “And I might have a solution to the other part of the puzzle. Excuse me for a minute.”

  He strode outside. This Mike spoke and acted with authority, unlike the gawky kid she’d known years ago. She took stock of the messy reception area. Burglaries, surgeries and Michael Harrison. She hadn’t changed her mind one bit.

  Of the three, Mike was the one who’d keep her awake at night.

  Copyright © 2020 by Tanya Agler

  ISBN-13: 9781488061837

  Healing the Doctor’s Heart

  Copyright © 2020 by Shirley Hailstock

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