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"Wow, that's perfect. Hopefully, the Barracuda will be gone soon. It won't be soon enough for me."
Wiz's eyes narrowed. "Ryan told me about the man who owns it. You should have shot him. The world would be better off."
"Probably." Erin shrugged. "But since he only gave me bruises, I probably would have ended up in jail."
"Yeah. The bad guys always get off." Her mouth twisted.
"If they don't pay in this life, they'll pay in the next."
Wiz's head tilted to the side. "You believe that?"
Erin nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do. Karma rules." Wiz flashed another smile. "What can I do for your van?" Erin walked to it. "Can I take a look?" Wiz nodded. Erin snagged the handle under the dash, then lifted the hood and peered into the engine compartment. Tight fit, but every modern engine was the same. She glanced over her shoulder.
"It needs an oil change, and whatever needs services. Can you check everything? I haven't used it much, but that's going to change. Do you weld?" The longer Wiz spoke, the farther away she moved.
Erin took a deep breath and relaxed her body. "Yeah. I'm not an expert, but I do some basic stuff. Anything like bodywork I take to a shop I know."
"I don't need this to look pretty. I want to do this." Wiz manipulated her tablet, put it down on the counter, and stepped back.
Erin strolled over, allowing Wiz plenty of time to move away. The tablet displayed a line drawing of the back of her van. On the driver's side, a short folding table with a stationary table on the passenger side. Cabinets rested on a bracket welded to the van's wall above the stationary table, and on the floor behind the side door, four metal bolts stuck upright, probably for a toilet. Behind the seats, a ceiling track held a sliding panel to close off the living section from the driving area. "You're creating a camper van. This is awesome."
"Yeah. Got the plans from someone I know online."
Erin nodded. Spot welds would work for these fixtures. "Sure, I can do the metalwork for this, but I don't have the raw stock here."
"It's in the van."
She laughed. "Should have figured that—you're very organized." Normally, she’d check raw materials, but she was sure Wiz had everything required.
"Some people call it anal or paranoid."
"Nope, organized." Erin wouldn't put anyone down that way but especially not Wiz. She was like a bird, used to a bird feeder but expecting the food to be snatched away at any second. Or a cat to jump her. Every success brought an expectation of problems.
Wiz nodded. "I'm going to finish your garage, then get some sleep. When do you open in the morning?"
Erin smiled. "Zero six hundred. I'll be here at five-forty if you want coffee or tea."
Wiz didn't smile back. "Latte, double, skim. I should start on your house by seven."
"Perfect. Customers slow down around ten, if you want a refill, or you can use the coffeemaker at the house." Erin took a few steps toward the door, hoping distance would let Wiz relax. "Help yourself to anything at the house. My home is yours."
"Okay. Thanks." She retrieved her tablet.
"Can you email those plans to me or send them to the printer?"
"Both." Wiz swiped at her tablet. "Done."
"Wiz...by the way, is that what you prefer to be called?" Just in case, because while the military was good at tagging people with callsigns, they were often hated by their owners.
"Yes."
No smile or head nod, only a verbal agreement. Wiz was hard to read. "Okay. So you know, you're welcome here anytime. And I'm happy to talk or not as you want. I know Ryan would like to see you more, but we can both see he makes you nervous. I'm sure you realize that you're both triggering each other, right?"
"Yes. A feedback loop." Her chin lifted.
"Exactly. You've got a feedback loop going. We figured it out, so hopefully now that Ryan's aware, we can short-circuit it."
"Okay." Wiz backed away farther. "I'm going back to work."
