and introduced himself. “Sean Callaghan. You called for a tow?” His voice fit the rest of him. Deep and slightly rough, like sandpaper but not unpleasant.
“I did, yes.”
He walked around the car, sizing up the damage. Though he said nothing, his eyebrows pinched and drew together, and his lips curled once or twice.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“Tire’s blown, rim’s cracked, front end’s gonna need some body work. There’s a good chance that the strut’s snapped and the suspension is damaged. What happened?”
“I hit a pothole, I think.”
He snorted softly. “You think?”
“It was dark and rainy,” she said defensively, straightening her shoulders. “I didn’t see it until it was too late.”
He looked up at the sky, now clear, bright, and blue. “Just how long have you been out here?”
“A while,” she admitted. Cell phone reception was spotty, and she’d chosen to wait until the sun was up to walk away from the car in an attempt to get a signal. She was glad she had, too. Had she gone wandering around in the dark, she might have unintentionally discovered the sharp drop-off only a hundred yards to the east.
“Can you fix it?”
“I can fix anything,” he told her with smug confidence. “The question is, whether or not the insurance adjusters will think it’s worth it. For now, I can tow it to my place in Pine Ridge, put it up on the lift, and get a better look at the damage.”
“Pine Ridge.” She remembered seeing a sign not too far back, after she’d gotten off the turnpike and taken a series of increasingly smaller roads toward her final destination, well off the beaten path. At the time, she’d felt a sense of relief that her long and difficult journey was nearly over, but apparently, the universe had opted to get in one last shot.
“I’m guessing the rental agency doesn’t have a local branch there, does it?”
“You guess correctly. Nearest one is probably two hours away.”
“Seriously? There’s no place to rent another car?”
“Didn’t say that. I said that agency doesn’t have a local office. They’re only around major airports, and there aren’t any of those around here.”
That, she knew. If Sumneyville wasn’t out in the middle of nowhere, she wouldn’t have had to tack a couple hours’ drive onto a cross-country flight fraught with delays and layovers.
She was only going to be around for a few days, but a car was critical to doing what she had to do. “Do you do rentals?”
“If you’re staying local, I’ve got loaners.”
Did she take a chance with a local over a nationally recognized chain? Bree briefly considered her options and realized she didn’t have many. The guy spoke matter-of-factly, and her instincts said he was trustworthy. Seeing the wedding band on his left hand helped, though she supposed that could be part of an elaborate ruse meant to lull potential victims into a false sense of security.
I really need to stop binge-watching those crime dramas and serial killer documentaries.
“All right,” she agreed.
He nodded brusquely. “Got the keys?”
Bree fished them out of her pocket and tossed them over. He easily snatched them out of the air.
“Give me a few minutes to get this hooked up. There’s a cooler with bottled water in the front seat if you’re thirsty. Help yourself.”
She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until he’d said something. She gratefully accepted, draining a large bottle right away. She considered having a second but didn’t want to have to make another run into the bushes. Once was quite enough. She only hoped the leaves that had brushed her bottom in the process didn’t turn out to be poison ivy or oak.
He made short work of hooking up the rental, and they were soon on their way. She’d expected a barrage of questions, but the big guy was the strong, silent type, and the ride into Pine Ridge was quiet. Rock music continued to play through the speakers, not blasting, but loud enough to discourage conversation.
The first thing Bree noticed when they pulled up to his garage was the half-dozen classic muscle cars in various states of repair, parked along the side of the building. No small foreign models or fuel-efficient hybrids in sight.
The second thing she noticed was the woman who came out from one of the garage bays to greet them, wearing coveralls and wiping her hands on a rag. Bree wasn’t sure what surprised her more—the fact that the woman appeared to be a mechanic or that she was strikingly beautiful. Dark