Page 85 of The Woman in the Garage

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because that’s my Family’s port.”

“Oh. Okay. Is that… bad?”

“It’s… not good. We do a lot of legit business through the port. But for those who want to import less-than-legal shit, they owe us a fee. And since we already worked with Phil, we would have known he was bringing in illegal shit if he’d told us.”

“Oh. So… so my uncle was screwing you guys over?”

“To be fair, there’s a small chance he didn’t know that. Very small. But it’s possible. Hey, don’t look so worried. We’re notgonna hold you responsible for your uncle’s actions. I’m just… trying to get all the facts.”

“I can give you all the receipts, if that helps.”

“I’d like to know the car parts company for sure. I can look up shipments and shit like that on our end.”

“Okay. We can go to my place whenever.”

He nodded at that, glancing at the clock on the stove, then moved to start making a pot of coffee.

“Hey, question,” he said, glancing over at the keyring on the table.

“Shoot.”

“Is that the same keyring? The one you had last time?”

“No. No, I took all of the padlock keys off of the other ring and put them on this one. Then I hid it in a slit in the lining of my purse. Why?”

The rich scent of coffee filled the kitchen as he brought down two mugs.

“I think someone was looking for the keys. I’m assuming they thought the place was empty. And they were going to search your office. Maybe they realized the keyring was different.”

“Oh,” I said, things starting to click together. “Hey, Santo…”

“Yeah?”

“When you were at my house and we heard that tumble…”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t leave that garage door open. I couldn’t evengetthe garage door open.”

To that, he exhaled hard. “Someone was in your house.”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Likely looking for the keys or info about the units. Baby, can I ask a really indelicate question?”

“Sure,” I said as he poured two cups of coffee, then brought mine over to the table.

“How did your uncle die?”

“Oh. Um, well, they said it was likely a heart attack. He died in his truck parked right outside of work. Someone found him there the next morning.” Santo turned away to bring sugar, half & half, and a spoon over to me. “What are you thinking?”

“That there are several medications that can cause or mimic a heart attack.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t something I could have ever come up with on my own.

“They didn’t do an autopsy?” he asked, softening the question with a squeeze to my knee as he sat down with me.

---