by Sharon Joss
CHAPTER 6
My heart pounded with a sick sensation. “Enough already, I can’t take this!” I shook myself against the steering wheel.
No one seemed to have noticed anything. Fortunately for me, the strip mall did not appear to offer much in the way of commercial viability, as the parking lot appeared mostly empty, and no one had come running out to investigate. I checked the side mirrors, but didn’t see any bodies.
I couldn’t believe how narrowly I’d escaped killing anyone. Twice. I forced myself to unclench and made a quick physical inventory. No new injuries, thank you very much. I rubbed the sweat off my face with a jittery hand.
“Look what you made me do, you little shits.” I glared at the stupid things behind me. The new guy reminded me of the bearded dragon lizard Lance kept as a pet when we were kids. Heavily-muscled jaws sported a wide reptilian smile. A regular Larry the Lizard. A fit of hysterical giggling came over me. In no time, I was cackling like a mad rooster. I clamped my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes. Get a grip.
I climbed out of the car and gingerly walked around to inspect for damage. We hadn’t crashed or anything, but the Honda now straddled a cement parking block, and poor old Rusty had a flat. Dang.
I gave the tire a couple of halfhearted kicks, but it was kablooey. A nasty hole bloomed where the bald tire had blown out. I thought about the spare in the trunk, but I was worried about the time. An auto parts store stood two doors over. I debated going over and asking for help, but decided I didn’t need to mess around with this right now. If I didn’t start walking, I’d be late. That flat wasn’t going anywhere.
“Looks like you could use some help,” my brother’s voice sounded behind me.
My heart sank. Lance strolled toward me from the direction of the Vinnie’s Auto Parts. Oh boy, this was perfect.
We have different fathers, and except for our smiles, don’t appear related. I’m dark-haired with a natural tan. Lance is ten years older than me; tall and lean, with slicked-back blond hair curling around his ears. When he smiles, he gives Brad Pitt a run for his money. Most women tended to overlook the work-stained mechanics overalls and black fingernails. He carried a box of parts carelessly under one arm. What was he doing here?
I looked around. “Where’s your car?”
He nodded toward the sleek torpedo shape of a vintage yellow Jag convertible. Must be a customer car. Lance had practically raised me, and had been appointed my legal guardian when I was sixteen. Any other day, I would have been glad to see him, but not today, and definitely not at this particular moment. I had to get out of here.
“What happened?”
A trickle of sweat rolled past my ear.
“Ah, nothing. Just a little accident.” I choked back a giggle. “I ah, guess my foot slipped.”
Lance set the box down on the pavement and leaned over to inspect my rear wheel; hung up on the wrong side of the parking block, and noted the flat. He took the keys out of my hand and opened the trunk without saying anything. I fidgeted impatiently as he lifted out the jack and tire iron.
“Do we have to do this now? I’m kinda running late for something.”
Lance gave me a sharp look. Too late, I shouldn’t have said anything. If he suspected what I was up to, I’d never hear the end of it. I glanced down the street to where Merle’s sign beckoned to me.
“What are you doing here, Matt?” He appeared calm, his movements slow and sure as he loosened the lug nuts on Rusty’s rear wheel.
I blew my breath out my cheeks.
“Laundry.” I squeaked, and pointed to the Spanky Kleen. “I figured I’d try this place. What are you doing here?”
“This is not a good part of town. The police found another Night Shark victim half a block from here this morning.”
So that was what sent them off in such a rush. “I had no idea. Thanks for the tip.” I edged closer to the sidewalk.
Lance slipped the jack under the rear bumper and gave the lever a few slow pumps. I could tell he had something on his mind. I hoped he’d get to the point pretty soon.
“Listen, I’ve got an errand to run. Do you mind if I, ah--”
“I talked to Kip.”
I kicked at the asphalt in frustration. “Why does he keep calling you? He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” I could feel destiny slipping though my fingers.
“You want to tell me about it?”
“No.” I struggled to keep my emotions off my face as I gave him my highly-edited short version, and he pretended to believe me.
“Suspension isn’t so bad.”
Before I could answer, a black and white cruised up beside us. I gazed over into the grinning faces of Picston’s finest, Bart Kitterman and Jason Jaekel, better known as Heckle and Jeckle. Bart was a second generation policeman, and the first boy I ever kissed. I’d known him all my life. Jason was a loudmouth jerk and Kip’s best friend.
I groaned. Any chance I had of getting to Merle Shine’s today had just about left the station. Sorry Merle. All that begging to get that appointment down the drain. Man oh man, could this day possibly get any worse? Of course the whole police department must have heard about my suspension by now. Probably the fire department, too.
“Hey look, it’s Mad Mattie,” Kitterman said. “What’s the problem, beautiful? Need some driving lessons?” They both hooted with laughter. I rolled my eyes and grinned in spite of myself.
I used to wish Bart’s dad was my father. Hank Kitterman was the neighborhood cop who showed up when people complained about the noise every time Mom’s s drug-dealing ‘boyfriends’ beat the crap out of her. To me, police officers represented everything noble and respectable; they brought order to chaos. To a kid growing up on the wrong side of the tracks, Officer Kitterman was Superman. He’d inspired the dream in me to become a cop. I wanted to be just like him.
“Very funny.” I smoothed my hair. These two would show me no mercy.
“Hey, maybe all you need is some training wheels. I’ll ask my four-year old if you can borrow hers. You’ll like ‘em, Mattie, they’re pink.” Bart winked at me.
“Don’t you two have crimes to investigate or something? Bad guys to arrest?”
“I’m lookin’ at you, Blackman,” Jason answered. “You wreak havoc and mayhem wherever you go.”
The smile faded from my face. “No donuts for you, Jerkle.”
“Is that the best you can do? You’re losing your touch.”
“Now now, kiddies, play nice.” Kitterman nodded to Lance. “Hey McNair, how’s it going?”
Lance stood and casually draped an arm over my shoulder. I leaned into him. I had to give Lance a lot of credit. He looked out for me, but never tried to make me feel like an idiot when he did so. Most of the time he hung back until I worked things out on my own. We both knew these guys enjoyed yanking my chain, but at this particular moment, I was glad to have Lance around. He raced motorcycles when he was younger, and in addition to being the best mechanic around, my brother was way cool.
“We’re just about done here, fellas, but thanks for asking.” He let go of me and went back to the wheel. With an easy movement, he lifted the old tire off the axel and laid it on the ground, then picked up the spare and placed it into position with no apparent effort.
“Lance told me you guys found another body today.”
Jason nodded. “Not a pretty sight.”
“We’re stepping up patrols in the neighborhood, looking for any suspicious activity.” Kitterman watched Lance with a speculative expression. The police radio bleeped out a garbled message, and then both officers went to work.
“Okay Mattie; we’ll leave you to your knitting. See you in the funny papers.” Kitterman grinned like the madman he was, and gave me a little toodle-oo finger wave. He gunned the engine and they sped off with lights flashing.
I sighed and crumpled to the pavement next to Lance.
“Cop groupie.”
“Sh
ut up, grease monkey.”
“Every time one of those guys shows up, you go all gaga.”
“My life is in the toilet and you call me names. Why can’t you do something constructive?”
“I’m fixing your flat, lady. And you’re welcome. What’s the matter with you?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. Thanks.” I rested my chin on my hands. “What time is it, anyway?”
“A little after six. Why so grumpy?”
I groaned and struggled to my feet again, knees as stiff as cardboard. “This day is a total loss.” My stomach growled in agreement.
Lance squinted up at the late afternoon sun. “I don’t know. You up for some Shanghai Palace? I’m buyin’.” He picked up a lug nut and screwed it tight.
Kung Pau at Shanghai Palace is my favorite meal, but Lance never, ever paid. “What do you want?”
“I need a favor.” He grinned at me as he tightened another lug nut.
“Of course you do.” We grinned at each other.
“I need you to stay with Mina for a few days.” He tightened down the last nut and reached for the tire iron.
Surprise, surprise. Lance and Violet had split up when Mina was three, but Violet got full custody. A compulsive gambler, Lance spent a couple stays in rehab before he’d been successful in persuading Violet and the courts to allow him shared custody. Since then, Lance had not once left town or stayed out late or even had an overnight guest whenever Mina stayed with him. Violet remarried last year, and Lance worried his ex-wife would try to gain sole custody again.
“As it happens I’ve recently become available for full-time babysitting. What’s up?”
“Thanks. By the way, they brought the remains of your scooter into the shop today. Bang-up job there, Mattie.”
The city has their own mechanic, but Lance and his partner Doc have a contract with the city for major body work. His blue eyes stared into mine. I wondered what was important enough to make him decide to leave town when he had Mina.
“Har-dee-har-har, funny-man. I told you it was an accident. End of story.”
“I’ll bet.” He picked up the tire iron and tightened the wheel nuts.
“How long will you be gone?”
“You’ll need to take her to summer school and back every day.”
I rolled my eyes. “I remember.”
“Both hands on the wheel. Make sure you’re both wearing seatbelts.”
“Duh. Give me a break, Lance. It’s just a run of bad luck.”
“Well, whatever it is, stop screwing around while you’ve got Mina with you.” He leaned over and braced himself at the back bumper. “You ready? Let’s get you unstuck.”
All three of my inner demons were still sitting in the back, stinking up my car. I got in and started the engine. With a bit of steady pressure on the gas and a push from Lance, Rusty scooted off the jack, over the concrete backstop and bounced to the pavement with a thump. Lance packed up my dead tire and tools.
I scampered back in to the Laundromat and moved my clothes into dryers. With the day a total shambles and my big plan shot to hell, I decided to make the best of a bad deal. I dumped my remaining quarters into the big dryer, and walked back to my car.
“You’re all set. No more accidents or I’ll give Kitterman a call about those driving lessons. I mean it.”
“Oh you’re hilarious. Thanks for the help, but I’m not sharing any of my Kung Pau with you.”
“Meet you there, brat.” He sauntered over to the Jag and folded himself in. He started the engine, and I followed him back to Shore Haven. Five minutes later, I realized he hadn’t told me why he was leaving town or even where he was going. That wasn’t like Lance. That made two of us with secrets.
