“Really?” Max said. “You’re afraid of spiders?”
“It’s a reasonable fear,” Dubs said. “If you had seen the size of this thing, you would be scared too. I think I can see it waving at us. It’s giving us an eight-legged salute right now. Maybe that’s how spiders flip people off. Seriously, let’s get out of here. I feel like they’re all over me.”
“Okay, just for the record, that’s not reasonable at all,” Max said. “But as much fun as this is, we’ve got to get moving anyway. The garage is closing soon.”
They got back in the car, which seemed to make Dubs happy, and took off. Max hoped Escalade number five would provide some useful information.
“We’ve passed four coffee shops,” Dubs said. “How can you not want a latte or something? It’s the middle of the afternoon. Perfect time for a stop.”
“Are you Italian?” Max asked. She was amazed at the amount of coffee and other caffeinated drinks Dubs consumed. It didn’t seem to impact her sleep though.
“No. I’m thirsty.”
“Maybe less caffeine would help you sit still. I would be going out of my mind if I had what you have every day.”
“I told you before, coffee calms me down. I don’t know why. And I’m not complaining about our day. Well, that’s not true. I’m complaining a lot about the first part. I’m blocking that out actually. But the last two hours? No complaints. I don’t think I said it before, but this truck is really working for you. I mean, really working for you.”
Dubs was looking at Max with that appreciative look that was both exciting and distracting. It didn’t seem like a look that could be faked.
“The jeans, the sneakers, that A-shirt, and this truck. Damn.”
“Are you flirting with me, hoping I’ll be swayed enough to stop and get you coffee?” Max asked.
Max wasn’t sure if Dubs would be offended by her joke, but she needn’t have worried.
“You know what I might like the most about you, Pretty Girl?” Dubs said.
“I wouldn’t even begin to know.”
“You don’t take yourself too seriously. And you have no idea just how hot you are. That’s very sexy to a lady like me.”
“If I was trying to attract a lady like you, of course,” Max said, teasing her.
“Who wouldn’t be?”
“Modest as always.” Max grinned, enjoying their banter.
Dubs unclipped her seat belt and slid over to the center seat. She buckled back in and let her thigh rest along the full length of Max’s. She pulled some form of makeup things from her bag and readjusted the rearview mirror for her own use.
“Hey,” Max said. “I’m driving here.”
“Use those,” Dubs said, pointing to the side mirrors. “I need this one.”
“Doesn’t your little kit come with mirrors?” Max asked, thinking it was rather convenient Dubs suddenly needed to be half an inch away from her, using the mirror.
“Mine’s broken. You complaining?”
“No elbowing me for mascara application, okay? You look beautiful without all that stuff,” Max said. “No use getting us both killed for something you don’t even need.”
Dubs stopped what she was doing and glanced at Max. “Did you just call me beautiful?”
“I, uh.” Max thought back to what she had said. She thought about what she meant. “Oh man, is your head even going to fit out the door now? The last thing you need is someone stroking that healthy ego of yours.”
Dubs finished what she was doing and put away her makeup. She put her left arm around Max’s shoulders and left it draped there. They rode the rest of the way silently like that.
Max parked in front of the repair shop and turned off the engine. She unbuckled her seat belt and was ready to go in, but Dubs hadn’t let her go.
“Are we going in?” Max asked.
“This hasn’t been like I thought it would be,” Dubs said seriously. “That’s because of you. I just thought you should know.”
“Thank you?” Max said. She was confused by Dubs’s seriousness and rather cryptic statement.
“Let’s get going.” She kissed Max quickly on the cheek and hopped out of the truck.
Max followed. Sometimes she had trouble keeping up with Dubs’s rapid shifts. This felt like an abrupt change, even for her, though. Max wondered what it was all about.
No one was behind the desk when they got inside so they rang the bell and waited. A middle-aged man eventually made his way to the counter. He smiled at Max and seemed friendly, but his demeanor changed drastically when he saw Dubs.
“You are not welcome here,” he said. “You have to leave. And if you’re with her, you get out too. I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I’ll call the police.”
“Whoa, wait,” Max said. She was confused. “There’s no need for the police. I have a question about a car you did some work on about a month ago. I was hoping you could help us out.”
“Oh sure, I give you information on that car and the next thing I know, it goes missing and who’s to blame? Me. That’s who. I’m not helping you punks steal any cars.”
“Punks?” Max said. Who was this guy?
“Hey, pal,” Dubs said. “I deserve your mistrust. Clearly, you know who I am. But I’m not here for that. I’m working with this wonderful woman to try to catch car thieves now. Do you know who Holt Lasher is?”
“Of course. Everyone knows who she is.”
“Well, this is Max Winters. She works for Holt. And I guess I kinda do right now, too. I’m not here to case your shop, or see what inventory you’re working with. I don’t care about your security, which sucks by the way, or any of that. We really and truly just want to find out about a car you worked on a month ago. We don’t want to steal it. We think someone already did.”
“You say you’re working for Holt Lasher? I’ll just check that out,” the man said.
He tapped on his computer and found what he was looking for. Max hasn’t seen someone hunt and peck on the keyboard like that since she had to watch her mother try to check her e-mail, and watching him type was almost physically painful. It must have been Moose who answered the phone when the garage owner finally found the number for the office and called, if the tone of voice they could barely hear was any indication. Moose agreed to text over a picture of Max and confirmed that Dubs was currently consulting for Holt.
The text message came through a few seconds later. He did a thorough inspection of the picture, comparing it in great detail to Max’s face. Once satisfied, he seemed slightly more willing to help them. “You are who you say you are,” he said. “I still don’t understand why she is working for someone as reputable as your boss.” He was directing his conversation to Max.
“She’s my colleague,” Max said. “And has been invaluable to our current case.”
“Watch your back,” he said. “What car do you need to know about?”
Max didn’t care for the guy, but she wondered if there was more to his warning than his displeasure at having a car thief in his repair shop. He seemed to have a visceral disdain for Dubs that went beyond what she would have expected.
She gave him the VIN number of the Escalade. “We don’t have an owner for this vehicle. It’s listed as owned by a corporation and the address is a PO Box. We thought you might have more updated information. We really need to talk to the owner.”
“I can give you an address,” the man said. “I’m not doing more than that. If you are really who you say you are, you can figure out the rest.”
“Hey—” Dubs started. Max held up her hand to stop her. There was no use arguing with him.
“That would be very helpful, thank you,” Max said.
The man leaned down to write out the address. He was as methodical a penman as he was a typist.
“Is that Lola?” Dubs whispered.
Max glanced into the auto shop. Coming into view was indeed Lola. Max couldn’t imagine why she was here. Lola glanced up in their direction, and Max tossed her a ca
sual wave.
Lola headed purposefully toward her. She didn’t look happy to see them.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “You’ve got to get out of here before she sees you. She’s flighty enough as it is.”
“Wait a minute. What are you talking about?” Max said. “We’re here following up on a lead on the shooting earlier today.”
“Shooting? What shooting? Is everyone okay?” Now Lola looked less angry, more worried.
“We’re fine, thanks to Holt. A possible informant was killed. What are you doing here?”
“I’m talking to Tiffany. Trying to get her to tell me who the father of her baby is, so he can sign the adoption paperwork. The lawyer met with us this morning.”
“And she works here?” Max had only met Tiffany a couple of times, but she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would spend any time under the hood of a car.
“I don’t know. This is where she asked to meet.”
“You guys almost done with the family reunion?” Dubs interrupted. “I’ve got the address we came looking for, and I think it’s time to go. Do you know that fella at the other end of the shop?”
Lola and Max looked in the direction Dubs indicated. He didn’t look familiar.
“Nope,” Lola said.
“Well, he’s been back there working on his power poses for Mr. Malevolent Rhode Island. I, for one, have had enough inexplicably angry outbursts for one day.”
“Maybe he’s a new member of your fan club,” Max said. “This seems to be their headquarters.”
“Hilarious as always,” Dubs said. “Except he’s been staring at you two. Seriously. Time to go.”
Max thanked the shop owner and they left. She wished she had been able to get a picture of the threatening man across the room, but she couldn’t do it without his noticing. Maybe he was upset Dubs was there, or perhaps he knew Tiffany. Max would add it to her report of the day’s events.
They parted ways with Lola and got back in the truck. Lola said she’d keep an eye on the guy while she waited for Tiffany, but she wasn’t worried about it. She just wanted them to leave so Tiffany didn’t freak out and run.
“Still have some more adventure in you?” Max asked.
“Just what are you suggesting?”
“Probably not what your tone implied you had in mind,” Max said. This day had gone from really horrible to enjoyable. Dubs was fun to spend time with. Max wouldn’t have guessed that when they first met.
“You’re no fun, Max.”
“I’m plenty of fun,” Max said. “You haven’t found out where I’m taking you yet.”
“I don’t want to know, do I?”
“Depends on if your idea of fun includes visiting the head of the largest gang in Rhode Island?”
“That’s whose address we just got? And we get to tell him his car was involved in a shooting today? How do we know he wasn’t doing the shooting? How do we know he won’t just shoot us when we show up?”
“That’s where the adventure comes in,” Max said. “You in or not? I can take you back to the office.”
“Oh sure, and spend the night handcuffed to your bed, waiting for you to get home.”
Max didn’t respond. There really wasn’t a response she could make. The handcuffs being introduced into their relationship had skewed it in all kinds of strange ways.
“You in or out?”
“I wore my adventure pants this morning. Let’s go. But for the record, my life as a car thief was much tamer and a whole lot safer than this.”
Somehow Max didn’t doubt it.
Chapter Twelve
Isabelle didn’t know when she had grown so fond of the morning drive in to work with Holt. They didn’t always have much to say, and when they did talk, it usually wasn’t ground-breaking discussion. What it was, though, was comfortable, and intimate, and theirs. That space in the truck in the morning felt like a comfortable pair of jeans she never wanted to get rid of. There was a part of her that wondered what happened to the fiercely independent woman she was just a few short months ago.
She knew she probably needed to get a job with someone other than Holt, eventually. Living with Holt was one thing, but working for her was quite another. For now though, it was working. They didn’t actually see each other all that much during the day, except when Holt made up a very important question to ask, just so she could steal a kiss. And they had the drive to and from work, each morning and evening.
She had worried at first that Holt’s colleagues might resent her presence, but that had turned out to be the furthest thing from the truth. Sometimes Isabelle thought Holt might be a little jealous at how well she got along with the band of do-gooders Holt had assembled.
She tried not to think about the events of the day before. Holt had assured her the guys doing the shooting hadn’t been aiming at her, but what did that matter if the bullets had hit her? What if Max had gotten hurt? She knew Holt came with her job, but she didn’t have to like it.
“You look lost in deep thoughts.”
“Taking a moment to feel content and thankful that you’re okay,” Isabelle said. “My life is pretty good. I thought it was before, but then you landed in it and made it better.”
“I hope I keep doing that, every day,” Holt said.
“Honey, you know you make me happy, but there are limits to how good things can be, even for you.”
“You’ll never convince me of that. I clearly just have to try harder.”
“Do you have someone new starting work today?” Isabelle asked. She knew most of the cars Holt’s crew drove.
“No, why?” Holt looked up. She slammed on the brakes. “What the fuck?”
“Not much of a parker.” A black SUV was parked perpendicular to four or five parking spots right outside the main entrance to Holt’s office building. The windows were tinted, too dark to see anything inside.
Holt backed the truck up quickly, away from the SUV.
“What’s going on?” Isabelle asked. Holt’s body language had changed. She was in full work mode, which scared Isabelle.
“That’s the damn Escalade Max and Dubs ran all over town looking for yesterday. I want to know why it’s sitting outside my front door. Call Max. Tell her and Dubs to get down here in the next thirty seconds.”
“Sweetie, you know Max is never awake at this hour,” Isabelle said. They got to work early, and Max wasn’t an early riser.
“Don’t care. She’s been getting up early now that she has a houseguest. Dubs probably even talks in her sleep.”
“Where are you going?” Isabelle didn’t like the fact that Holt was getting out of the truck. She had seen her get shot once. She couldn’t watch it happen again.
“I’m going to go knock on the door, see if anyone’s in there,” Holt said.
Holt closed the truck door and went to the truck bed for a moment. When she reappeared, she was carrying a baseball bat.
“You don’t knock on the door with a baseball bat,” Isabelle said. She called Max and, as requested, the two women were downstairs roughly a minute later. Max was in boxers and a T-shirt, and although Isabelle tried not to notice, Dubs seemed to be wearing nothing but a thong and an extremely threadbare tank top. They were still handcuffed together. If Holt called, in this crew, you came running, regardless of your attire or who you were handcuffed to.
Isabelle couldn’t hear what was happening, so she got out of the truck. She wasn’t going to be scared and helpless, locked way. Snippets of their conversation drifted over to her. Dubs seemed to be trying to convince Holt not to break one of the Escalade’s windows. She didn’t understand all of the rapid-fire chatter, but it was possible Dubs wanted to break in herself and take the car out for a joyride.
An agreement was reached, and Holt motioned for Dubs and Max to step back, and they quickly moved away, with Max pulling Dubs slightly behind her. Holt tapped on the driver’s side window with the bat head and ducked as low to the ground as she could. Isab
elle wasn’t a fan of that move, or Holt of feeling like it was necessary.
“No one home, H?” Max asked.
Holt shrugged and knocked harder with the bat. No answer.
Dubs held up her handcuffed hand and Holt unlocked the cuff. Max moved to the windshield and seemed to be comparing something on the car with something in her phone. Isabelle didn’t know where she had hidden her phone since she wasn’t wearing much. Dubs moved inside the building and returned with a long, thin piece of metal about an inch or less wide.
She moved to the driver side window and looked to Holt. They stepped back and gave Dubs room to work. Holt looked the Escalade over from where she was standing on the passenger’s side and sent Max to the front. Holt saw Isabelle out of the truck.
“Hey, babe?” Holt called over. “Does everything look normal to you from where you’re standing? Anything look out of place?”
Isabelle looked at the Escalade again. It was parked in such a strange location. Something caught her eye. There was a wire protruding from beneath the left taillight.
“Holt?” Isabelle said.
Holt held up her hand to stop Dubs.
“Yeah,” Holt said.
“Can you come look at this? It’s probably nothing.”
Holt jogged around to Isabelle. She pointed to the wire. She didn’t feel like getting actively involved in whatever they were doing. This wasn’t the part of working with Holt she enjoyed.
“That’s odd,” Holt said. She went back to the Escalade and crouched down to examine the wire. She went down to her hip and sprawled out under the car. She was under for fifteen seconds before she shot back out. “Get back! Move!” Max grabbed Dubs and pulled her a good twenty feet from the truck. Holt headed directly for Isabelle. She half carried, half shoved her to the driver’s side of the truck, pushed the keys into her hand, and got her inside.
“Drive at least three blocks away from here. Don’t stop until you do, understand? When you get at least three blocks away, stop and call nine one one. Tell them the address and say we need the bomb squad.”
Isabelle’s heart felt like it stopped beating. She felt sweat bead on her forehead. Her mouth was dry.
Pedal to the Metal Page 9
