but that’s how I wanted it.” She put Faye’s hand back down. “Did he know you wanted to hire me? Would he have wanted that? He kept my card. At least I have that.”
And there was something else. Something that made her grin. “He gave you the ship bottles, of course, but you won’t believe what he gave me. His library. All those books. He noticed that I was a big reader, too. I can’t believe that. And...the antique shotgun. The one he wouldn’t use for fear it might break? He must have known I’d learned to shoot. The guy who owned the range must have told him.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Can you believe that? You probably can. You were always generous with him. But I can’t. And I just wish he’d said one word to me. About my business. About my interests. Hell, about my marksmanship.” One kind word would have meant so much to her.
That’s not his way. She didn’t need Faye to tell her that.
Her parents were her parents. She could write them off or she could accept them as they were. She’d decided to accept them, warts and all.
And her father had gifted her with two of his most valuable possessions. There was always that card in his wallet, too. That had to be enough.
Her cell phone rang. She saw it was Dylan.
“The Tesla’s at Roadrunner Wrecking on the outskirts of Tucson,” he said without even saying hello.
Her mind switched gears instantly. “How’d you find out?”
“I had my secretary pull up the bill from the yard where Wharton P.D. tows vehicles and called on the off chance they would know where the car had gone from there. Turns out it’s still on the lot. Your insurance company has a contract with them.”
“Great detective work, Dylan. Thank you.” At last they could get somewhere.
“So, I’m on my way there right now with Tony Carmichael and—”
“I’ll meet you there. I’m at the hospital with Faye, so I’m close,” she said, her nerves jumping at the prospect.
“The car will be smashed up. It might be...gory.”
“I need to be there.”
“I can’t talk you out of it?”
“Not a chance.”
He sighed. “You know I had to try.”
“I know you did.”
“I’m bringing a camera to take stills and video of the car and Tony’s comments.”
“Good idea. We can study it later or show it to Fallon or any experts we deal with.” And if the scene was too much for Tara, she’d be able to look at the stills and footage when she felt braver. “We make a good team, Dylan.”
“Yeah...”
“When I’m not stomping out of restaurants and calling you a sellout.”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
She smiled. It reassured her that they could get past their arguments more easily. That wouldn’t be the case if they were sleeping together, she knew. They would be too tense with each other, weighing every word for a double meaning, a change in feeling. Something.
With the address in the GPS, Roadrunner Wrecking was a snap to find and in a half hour, she met Dylan and Tony Carmichael at the high chain-link fence that marked the entrance to the salvage yard. Tony was a stocky man in overalls and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, a long blond ponytail pulled back by a do-rag of the American flag. Dylan introduced them and Tara shook his rough palm with her nerve-clammy one. “We appreciate you taking time for this,” she said. “We’ll pay you, of course.”
“No big deal. It’s a beautiful machine. I serviced her a couple weeks ago. I’d like to see how she held up under pressure.”
“Let’s go take a look,” Dylan said. He picked up a wheeled cart, probably to look at the undercarriage, and Tony grabbed a toolbox and a jack. They met the manager in his tiny office and the guy led them to a cement slab with several wrecked cars. “Adjuster did his thing,” he said. “I expected demo orders by now, but that’s the insurance company’s call. They pay us either way. That’s it.” He pointed at a dark blue vehicle. “You need me, I’m in my office.”
Tara gasped at the battered car. She refused to picture how it had gotten that way. She was determined to be brave.
Tony pried up the hood, bracing it open with the crowbar. Tara and Dylan joined him, Dylan holding the camera, running video, she assumed.
The engine was surprisingly clean, though much of it was bent and crumpled. “Looks pretty jammed up,” Tony said. “Not sure how