Page 38 of Loco

He straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag, and gestured for me to come over. “There’s a knife in your back tire. Like…init. Someone jammed it in clean.”

I stared at him, stunned. “You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’ve seen a few like this, but never one just left sticking out. Like they wanted you toknow.”

My pulse kicked up, but my phone started buzzing in my coat pocket before I could process that fully.

Roque.

I answered immediately. “Hey.”

“Where are you?” His voice was tight but not angry, just concerned. “I just stopped by the house on my lunch break, and you’re not there.”

“I went to the mall to get some stuff for the kids,” I explained, glancing at the AAA guy. Before he could admonish me for spending money, which he absolutely was going to do, I finished as quickly as I could, “And I was just about to leave when I found out one of my tires is flat. AAA’s here now, but apparently, there’s… a knife in the tire.”

Roque went quiet for a beat. “Awhat?”

“A knife. The guy just found it.”

“Don’t let him take it out,” Roque said sharply. “Tell him to leave it. Put it in the trunk, handle out if he has to touch it. I want to see it myself.”

I relayed the message to the tech, who gave a slow nod and said he could manage that.

But then Roque spoke again, his tone shifting. “Actually, don’t move it. I’m sending someone from work to come get it. We might be able to pull a print or something.”

“Do you think someone did this on purpose?” I asked, my voice quieter now, the question already hanging in my chest.

“That’s what I need to find out.” He paused. “Do you know anyone who’d do that to you?”

I frowned, heart pounding. “No… No one I can think of.”

Then I thought back to what had just happened.

“The only weird thing I can think of were the two guys who stood in my way not long ago,” I said slowly. “When I was leaving the store. They were dressed in black coats and skull caps, standing by the door. They didn’t say anything when I asked them tomove, just stared. One of them stepped aside eventually, but it was weird.”

“Can you describe them?” he asked immediately, all business now.

I did, trying to recall every detail I could: their height, build, the color of their coats, and the way they carried themselves.

“I doubt they did anything, they were just acting weird.”

However, Roque was already moving. “I’m on it,” he said, then the line went dead.

The AAA guy worked quickly, replacing the tire with practiced ease while I stood off to the side, arms crossed against the cold and nerves twisting in my gut. He didn’t say much after the knife comment, just kept to his task, his movements efficient and careful.

A few minutes later, a plain black SUV pulled up, and a man in dark jeans and a Piersville P.D. windbreaker stepped out. He looked like the kind of guy who never said more than he had to. Quiet eyes, no-nonsense energy. I figured this was the tech Roque had mentioned.

He didn’t introduce himself, just gave me a small nod before walking straight to the tire with the knife still lodged in it.

Eyes moving to the AAA guy, he asked, “You wear gloves the whole time?’

The man held up his hands, covered by thick black gloves, and wiggled his fingers. “Sure did. Got eczema, so the less stuff I get in it, the cleaner and comfier it is.”

The tech guy pulled on his own gloves and crouched to examine the tire, his eyes scanning every inch like he was mentally cataloging details. Then, he retrieved a heavy-duty evidence box from the back of his vehicle, lifted the tire carefully—the knife still intact—and lowered it into the container like it was fragile glass.

I watched as he filled out a form on a clipboard, jotting down notes in tight, blocky handwriting. When he was done, he peeled off a sticker from the form and affixed it to the outside of the box, sealing it with one last firm press.

The AAA guy wrapped up around the same time, scribbling something on his paperwork before handing me a copy and offering a polite smile. The tech gave my car one last slow sweep with his eyes, then, without a word, turned and walked into the mall.

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