Page 25 of Edge

“One can only hope.”

“How were things with your mom after you moved out?”

“Pretty much nonexistent. She’s always been a negative and critical person. It was hard for me to voluntarily subject myself to that, so I kept my distance. I also never forgave her for the way she handled things with my grandmother. Maybe one day, but I’m not there yet.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Thanks. I’ve never really talked about my relationship with her with anyone, and a part of me has always wondered if I was being too harsh.”

“I don’t think you are. Being a part of someone’s life is a privilege not a right. If their presence isn’t positive for you, revoke their privileges,” he said simply.

After dinner, he drove me back to my trailer and walked me to the door. “I’ll pick you up around four tomorrow for target practice.”

“I’ll be ready,” I said. “And thanks again for dinner. I’m sorry I spent the whole time telling you my crappy story.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I wanted to know,” he smiled. “See you tomorrow.” He got back into his truck and waited for me to go inside before he left.

I found myself slightly disappointed that he didn’t kiss me. Then I shook my head. He wasn’t interested in me. He felt sorry for me, especially after I overshared at dinner.

I needed to remember that.

8

EDGE

The next day, I stopped by the clubhouse to see Byte before I got started working on Evie’s car.

“Sorry to bother you again. I should’ve asked yesterday,” I started. “Can you find out what’s going on with the investigation of Randall’s murder?”

“Sure,” Byte said. “Is there something specific you want to know?”

“Since they dismissed the charges against Carl and Ken, I want to know if they have anyone listed as a suspect. I also want to know if Evie’s name is mentioned anywhere.” As I was lying in bed the night before thinking about her situation, it occurred to me that Evie’s disappearance immediately after her roommate’s murder wouldn’t go unnoticed and would likely be interpreted in one of two ways—she was guilty and ran, or she was also a victim.

“I should be able to find that out for you. Not sure how long it will take, though. Do you want to wait, or do you want me to call you with the info?”

“Call me,” I said. “I need to head over to the garage and take a look at her car.”

“Will do,” he said and opened his laptop to get started.

When I arrived at the garage, I made myself a cup of coffee and began inspecting her vehicle. Based on her description of the problem, there were a few things that could be the culprit. I started with the most common issue and worked my way through a mental checklist of possibilities.

By the time I was finished, I wondered how the damn thing lasted as long as it did. She had not kept up on the maintenance whatsoever. The oil was basically sludge, her air filter was caked in filth, and the ends of her spark plugs were burned to a crisp.

I was pretty sure I knew what the problem was, but I hoped I was wrong. After trying and failing to rotate the crankshaft pulley with a breaker bar, I knew I was right. She had a seized engine.

“Damn it,” I swore and tilted my head toward the sky.

“Something wrong?” Dice asked.

“There’s nothing I can do,” I said. “This engine’s toast.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said and told him the steps I’d already taken. Then I showed him the oil.

He let out a low whistle and grimaced. “Yeah, no one’s fixing that.”

I’d been hoping for an easy repair so Evie could trade her car for something else. With the seized engine, she was more or less screwed. It wouldn’t be cost effective to replace the engine and then trade the car. She’d be better off just buying another vehicle, but I knew she couldn’t afford to. Not without taking out a loan, which I also knew she couldn’t do.

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