Page 9 of Playing Along

“Okay,” he shrugs. “As long as you promise you’ll get it outta here. I don’t want to be dealing with an angry call from this Wharfman guy tomorrow.”

“I can guarantee that you will not be dealing with an angry call from Ian Wharfman tomorrow,” I say, holding up my two fingers in a scout’s honor pose. Behind me I hear Nora start to laugh, then cover it with a cough. Nothing about this situation should be funny—we’re in the middle of a murder coverup for Pete’s sake—and yet, the sound of her half-laugh has me fighting a laugh too. Nothing like being able to guarantee someone won’t do something… because they’re dead.

“I don’t like this,” Frank says as I open Nora’s passenger side door to get the lug wrench tool kit from where it should be behind the seat. “If Mr. Wharfman said to tow the car, I think you should tow the car.”

I’m already heading for the back of the truck, ignoring his protestations. “Nah, don’t worry about it, man,” I say as I lower myself to the ground to retrieve the spare from beneath the truck bed. “I’m going to get this spare tire taken care of.”

Even as I say the words I realize I am wrong. I am not going to be able to put the spare tire on.

Because there is no spare tire on the underside of this truck.

I stifle a groan as I stand back up.

“Problem?” Frank asks.

“Uh, yeah.” My eyes find Nora’s in the darkness. “I guess there’s no spare tire after all.” Her eyes pop wide and her mouth forms an O.

“Okay, well that’s that then,” Frank says with satisfaction. “Tow the car.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say, because arguing further will only seem weird and then later, after Ian is discovered to be dead, potentially suspicious. “Tow it.”

“Alright then,” the driver says with a sigh. “You got a tire place you want me to go to?”

Nora gives him the name of the same place we took her car the day we met, when I installed her spare tire on the side of the road. The spare tire she never replaced, apparently, even though she told me she would.

I turn away, needing a minute to get a hold of myself. The building is dark except for a single light in the lobby. A flash of movement in one of the windows of the second floor catches my eye, but when I focus in on the window I see only darkness. Must’ve just been my eyes playing tricks on me. I shake my head and turn back to Nora’s car.

The tow truck driver is busy attaching Nora’s truck while Frank makes a show of overseeing the whole thing.

“Nora,” I bend down to whisper to Nora, “you—”

“Never replaced the spare tire,” she cuts me off. “I know. I’m sorry, okay? I told you I would and I never did. Can you perhaps hold off on the lecture? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m having a really bad night.”

“Uh, I wasn’t going to lecture you about the tire,” I tell her.

“Oh.” She flushes, the color creeping up her neck reminding me of the way I used to make her blush just by catching her eye across a room.

“At least not here,” I amend, tearing my mind out of the abyss of achingly torturous memories it was about to leap into. “I was absolutely going to mention it later.”

“I knew it,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. I see the smile she’s fighting, though. Nora always did amuse herself by predicting my behavior. She was always affectionate in her teasing; but in the months that followed our breakup, I couldn’t help but wonder if she got bored of how, well, boring I am.

Variety is the spice of life, as the saying goes, and I am nothing if not invariable.

Is that why she didn’t want to marry me?

“Yeah, you were right.” I give her the win. “Now what I was actually going to say,” I lower my voice, “is that you should tell me that you’re going to text Ian and let him know your car has been successfully towed.”

“What? Why would I do…” she trails off as understanding dawns. “Oh, right.” She nods. “You mean tell you loudly enough that I can be overheard by Frank and Kenny?”

“Kenny?”

“The tow truck driver,” she explains. “It says it right on his shirt.”

It’s my turn to flush. I should’ve noticed a detail like that. I’m a detective. Being observant is one of my job requirements.

But of course, I was too distracted by Nora and the hero complex I’ve got going on with her.

“Right, Kenny,” I say. “Yeah. Exactly. Loud enough for them to hear.”

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