Page 54 of Texas-Sized Secrets

“I’ve got a few minutes, I’ll wait.” Mona walked toward the shop. “I could do with a soda.” She fished in her pockets for change, all the while scanning the darker interior of the body shop.

“We got a lot of cars ahead of you. I don’t think I can get to it until sometime next week.” He followed her, his boots slipping in the gravel as he scrambled to catch up.

“That’s okay, I just want an estimate. Not sure the old truck is worth fixin’. Knowing what it’ll take might help me make that decision.” She counted out the change she needed for the faded soda machine outside the office door. “Les around? Haven’t seen much of him lately.”

Reed leaned against the overhead door frame. “I hear Les does good work. I might have a job he can do for me. Where is he?”

“Les called in sick.” Wayne stepped into the dirty office area where papers littered the desktop, held down by a ball-hitch paperweight.

His office smelled of grease, oil and cigarettes. An ashtray overflowed with spent butts.

The stench turned Mona’s delicate stomach. She shot a glance at Reed and blocked the doorway with her body, giving Reed a chance to slip inside the shop and have a look around. “That’s too bad. I hope it isn’t contagious. Hate to see you get whatever he’s got.”

“Oh, it’s not contagious.” Wayne grabbed a pen and estimate worksheet. “Just the bumper?” His glance shot over her shoulder through the doorway.

“I don’t know. Could you work up an estimate on the tailgate as well? I dropped a round bale on it, which snapped the retaining wires.”

Wayne scratched on the paper. Nothing came out of the pen. He slammed the pen in the trash and dug in the desk drawer for another. “Front bumper and tailgate. Year, model?”

Mona gave him the details and he wrote the information down in a hurry, then stood. “I’ll have to make calls about the tailgate and get back to you on the estimate. You can call back tomorrow.”

Mona stood in the doorway, her body tense, blocking Wayne’s escape. “Pretty wicked storm last night, huh?”

“I guess. Didn’t notice.”

“You weren’t out in it, were you?”

Wayne looked at her through slitted eyes. “I said I didn’t notice.” He took the three steps that positioned him directly in front of Mona. “Why do you ask?”

With Wayne towering over her, Mona wasn’t feeling so brave all of a sudden. She stepped out of the office and turned to where Reed had been leaning against the overhead door leading into the shop. He wasn’t there. Her heart skipped several beats before slamming into fast gear. She spun back toward Wayne. “I was wondering, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could get a good used four-wheeler, would you?”

He shrugged, his shoulders stiff, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Wouldn’t know. Look in the Amarillo newspapers.”

“I have, but it’s hard to find one you can trust. Funny. Isn’t that the way with a lot of things nowadays?” With nothing left to say, and Wayne being less than forthcoming with his previous evening’s activities, Mona had no choice but to leave the shop. Where was Reed? “I’ll come by tomorrow for that estimate.”

“Don’t bother, just call.” Once she’d moved through the doorway, he stepped around her, his gaze panning the interior of the shop. “Where’d your boyfriend go?”

Chapter Thirteen

Reed hadn’t liked leaving Mona in the office with Wayne. But in broad daylight, with Mona acting as if she had legitimate business with the man, Wayne shouldn’t try anything, as long as Mona didn’t ask too many questions.

For a split second, a flash of panic surged through Reed and he almost turned back. No. She wouldn’t be stupid.

And they really didn’t have a viable reason to believe Wayne and Les were involved in the rustling. All they had to go on was the bartender’s observations.

After his eyes adjusted to the dark interior, Reed hadn’t seen anything damning in the shop that would link Wayne and Les to Dusty and cattle rustling. With casual ease, he’d walked back out in the sunshine, wind whipping dust into his eyes. Just as nonchalantly, he’d circled the back of the building, his hands in his pockets as if he was bored, waiting on the boss lady. Once around the side and out of sight, he’d sprinted to the end of the building and peered around back into the junkyard of old cars and spare parts.

A movement caught his eye. At first he thought it was a rat. In a way, he’d been right. Les Newton moved among the rusty hulls of old cars, ducking low to remain out of sight, staring at the back door of the building.

Reed had stood still to avoid detection until Les stepped out into the open. At that moment, Reed’s blood ran cold.

Les’s right hand was wrapped in a flesh-colored bandage.

The thought of Mona in the office alone with Wayne sent a blast of fear through Reed.

When Les had his back to him, Reed eased around the side of the building, and moved to the front, just as Mona stepped out of Wayne’s office. Reed entered the shop from the direction of the truck and hooked Mona’s arm with his hand.

She jumped, her eyes wide until she realized it was him.

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