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I chose cranberry chocolate chip to start.
She bit into hers and picked up a paper I’d already read. “What do you think we’re looking for?”
I shook my head. “That’s the problem. I’ve got no clue at all. Are you sure he didn’t mention anything that would give us a starting point.”
“Not once. He only said it was too dangerous to tell me.”
A loud engine noise came from outside.
“Probably Waylon stopping by,” Pris said. “He really needs a new muffler on that thing.” She peeked out the window. “Crappity crap crap.” She darted for the door. “Fucking Rusty,” she hissed. “He is such an asshole. Stay here.”
All I knew about Rusty was that he ran the gas station and, according to Callie, had a crush on Pris. I picked up another page to read over. I had zero interest in any interaction with that grease monkey.
Pris slammed the door on her way out. She had her volume turned up high to match her annoyance level. “Rusty? What the fuck?” Her door was paper-thin and she might as well have left it open.
“Dev says I gotta tow this car.”
When the words seeped into my consciousness, I bolted up. Pris drove a truck. The car outside was mine. Surging up from the table, I swung open the door.
The old flatbed truck backed up to my poor car was what had been making all the noise.
“That’s my car,” I managed to bark out as I stepped gingerly down to the street.
Pris got right in his face. “Rusty, you heard her. Unhook that thing.”
He’d attached a cable to the front of my ride out of this town.
“But Dev said,” Rusty tried as an excuse.
“Where’s the paperwork?” Pris asked as I reached them. “I want to see it.”
His face twisted in confusion “Uh…” That had stumped him. “Dev…uh…”
Pris jabbed a finger in his shoulder. “Rusty, you can’t let Devlin use you like this. You need to demand the fucking paperwork. You can’t just tow any old car.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s Dev. I gotta do what he says. You know that.”
With a single whoop of the siren, the cop car made its presence known. It rushed down the street toward us.
With his blue light still flashing, my nemesis, Devlin, stepped out. “Rusty, what’s the hold up? I thought you already had that thing outta here.”
With a quick glance toward Pris, Rusty grew an inch. “I’m workin’ on it. But she has a question.”
Devlin shook his head in disgust. “I said tow it. Now load that stupid thing so we can get it into the yard.”
“Sorry,” Rusty stage-whispered to Pris. He then pulled on the handle and with a whine, the cable drew tight, pulling my beautiful red car up the ramp.
Pris’s face was red with anger, but she controlled her voice. “Devlin, where’s the paperwork that says you have a right to tow this car?”
The smirk Devlin shot my direction was wicked. This was my payback for our aborted dinner date three weeks ago. “I’m just following orders. In a case like this, the chief said impound the car, and he’d deal with it.”
“Why? I haven’t done anything wrong,” I complained. “What kind of case?”
Devlin shrugged. “You have to take it up with the chief.”
“You’re an ass,” Pris said before turning to me. “I’ll give ya a ride to the station and help you yell at him.”
Devlin snorted. “In three weeks, when he gets back from his fishin’ trip. Or you can post a bond for it—half the value of the car, if I remember right.”
