Page 18 of Fast and Dirty

After righting the trashcan, I return to the main door, prop it open and continue through to the garage, hitting all the controls to raise the doors to the garage bays.

Shafts of daylight spread across each work area, and fresh air gently rolls in, dissipating the musty smell of grease and oil.

Today’s schedule is already pulled up on the office computer, as I was up in the wee hours, but I head over to the laptop in the corner of the main work area and fire it up.

I smell the donuts Jackson is carrying before I actually see him appear in the office doorway. This man has come a long way from the wreck he was when I first met him two years ago. Crazy that it was for a job interview, at the time. The guy was struggling with three kids and trying to run this place on his own after Bill Shane, the original owner passed away, leaving it to his grandson, Kaleb who had to deploy at that time. Never did I realize that in only a matter of months, this placewould become home, like a puzzle piece snapping perfectly into place, and I’d be buying this place from Kaleb.

These days, Jackson has a healthy energy in his step and less luggage beneath his eyes.

“Mornin’” I tilt my chin up at him as he approaches, setting the white box labeledMaggie's Muffins and Moredown on the nearest work table. He flips it open to reveal the usual assortment, and I immediately reach for the old-fashioned sour cream donut and grab up my coffee mug to give it a dunk.

Every Monday, Jackson stops by Maggie’s, insisting we need to start the work week off on a good note. Crazy how the donuts haven’t gone to his skinny waist.

“How’d yesterday go? Any calls?” He reaches for the coconut covered cake donut. I don’t get a chance to answer, as his eyes bug out at the very second he crams it in his mouth. I follow his gaze over my shoulder to the antique Rolls Royce in the farthest bay.

I try to act casual while I quickly try to get my sleep-deprived brain to decide how much to tell him about yesterday. “So yeah, there was one call.” I reluctantly turn to follow where he’s made a beeline to the expensive car. “Broke down on the side of Route 31,” I explain. “Hasn’t been maintained in a while, and the timing belt blew.”

“What in the everliving fuck was someone doing, driving a Rolls Royce in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, especially when it hadn’t been maintained? What the fuck were they thinking?”

I don’t want to give out too many details, as I’m trying not to embarrass Kira.

“Well, it was only meant to be driven a short distance … for a special occasion,” I explain slowly, choosing my words carefully as I go. “Things didn’t go according to plan, and here we are.” I pop the rest of the donut in my mouth, hoping to buy myself some time to think of what to say next.

Jackson lets out an airy chuckle. “I have so many questions. Did they just ditch it and blow town on a helicopter?”

“She’s with Agnes, getting breakfast,” I mumble around my last bite before pushing a frustrated hand through my hair. I really don’t want to say anymore until Kira gets back and can speak for herself.

“She?”

I busy myself with the coffee pot, pouring myself another cup I’ll probably regret later.

“She,” he repeats, and I do my damnedest not to make eye contact. “A woman had a Rolls Royce out on a joyride in the country, broke down, and she’s still here in town? Where did she stay the night? There’s no hotel. Did Agnes come sniffing around and offer her spare room?”

Fuck. It didn’t occur to me to think of Agnes’s large house with extra space last night. I tell myself that Kira had gotten, well,considerablycomfortable with me and would do better sleeping at my place rather than another stranger’s . I won’t entertain the truth.

“So she’s made friends with Agnes already? I bet they’re out taking Coyote Creek by storm as we speak.” He shakes his head with a smirk, popping another piece of donut in his mouth.

Again, I don’t comment, and just take my place behind the desk, just as we hear a car pull up, quickly followed by the engine being cut. “That’s your first appointment,” I inform him, as I glance at the schedule and cock an eyebrow at him with a smirk I hope distracts him from the mystery Rolls driver. “Get the fuck to work.”

The Rolls Royce mystery is temporarily forgotten as Jackson gets Mr.Sullivan’s pickup squared away in Bay One, and Razor shows up to take his first appointment. The Road Captain for the Coyotes of Chaos MC, Razor is also our motorcycle specialist.

The classic rock is blaring, and our workday has just gotten underway when Agnes’s Jeep comes roaring back up on the curb.

8

WEST

Kira climbs out of the Jeep, looking more tense than before she left, and I seem to automatically toss my socket wrench down on the work table and saunter over to her. My blinders are on to the curious looks I’m getting from the other mechanics as I hone straight in on her, wondering what’s happened.

“You alright?” I ask, meeting her in the middle of the garage.

She blows out a shaky breath but nods. “It’s a long story, but in a nutshell, my father just cut me off.”

“Fuck,” I grumble under my breath. “I’m sorry.”

“I was able to withdraw some money before it went through,” she continues, as Agnes pushes her way out of her side of her lopsided Jeep that’s parked half on the curb. “I can give you a down payment while I figure out what to do next. I just have to make some calls.”

I nod. “It’s okay.” And before I know it, my hand is on her bare arm, trying to settle her. “What about after that? What are you going to do?”

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