“Sorry I’m late, Mary Jane had a lot say.” Isabella held up bags of take out from Granny’s Pantry. The owner, Mary Jane, liked to talk. “Where’s Jimmy?” She asked as she walked in. “I saw his car.”
“Where do ya think?” I said flatly.
“Hello, beautiful.” Jimmy walked out of the kitchen with a smile and a fried chicken drumstick.
“What are you doing? You knew I was bringing the food.”
“I’m a growin’ boy.” Jimmy patted his stomach and then playfully swatted Isabella’s ass as she walked to the dining table to set the food down.
“Hi.” Cheyenne knocked lightly on the open door as she walked in.
Reagan and Billy were right behind her and after everyone said their hellos and filled their plates, we all took our seats around the dining room table and Isabella wasted no time getting down to business. She was a woman after my own heart.
“Okay, so when Jimmy was at his fitting this morning—” Jimmy interrupted with a loud groan as his head fell back dramatically. His fiancée ignored him and continued, “This document arrived.” She pulled papers out of a manila envelope she was holding. “A couple of months ago I tried to hire the P.I. firm my father uses to find out more about your mother’s crash but they were unavailable. It turns out they were unavailable because my father had hired them and this is the report.”
Miles Santini was a well-respected businessman who was regularly featured in Forbes magazine. I didn’t know much about Isabella’s relationship with him other than it had been strained and the two were working to make it better now.
“The private detective was able to find the tow truck driver who was first on the scene and the mechanic. The tow truck driver passed away years ago so that didn’t lead anywhere. But the mechanic is alive and living in Alaska. He says that he has information but will only talk to you.” Isabella handed me the paper.
I looked down at the report that basically outlined what she’d just said.
It listed the mechanic’s name, Jerry Samson. I remembered that he worked at Firefly Auto Shop and he’d come into Southern Comfort for a drink on paydays, but I couldn’t remember ever saying more than a few words to the man.
Why would he want to talk to me?
“Why Hank?” Billy asked the question I’d been thinking.
“Don’t know, he said that he’d talk to Pops or Hank.” Jimmy twisted a toothpick in his mouth. “Since Pop is gone, that leaves Hank.”
“Who is the mechanic?” Cheyenne asked me.
“Jerry Samson,” Isabella told her.
“Do you know him?” My sister started to read over my shoulder.
“No. Not really.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Billy prompted before demanding, “Call him!”
I didn’t respond as I stared down at the paperwork.
“Hank,” Billy urged.
“I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about?” Billy stood from the table and gestured toward the papers. “He has information and he’ll only talk to you. Call him!”
Reagan reached up and placed her hand on Billy’s forearm. “This is a lot to digest. Why don’t we all take some time and revisit this.”
Billy exhaled through his nose, lookin’ like a bull in the chute. I understood his anger, but this wasn’t as cut and dry, as he thought it was. I needed time to think about it.
“Hank.” Billy leaned forward on the table and it was clear from his tone and demeanor he wanted answers.
Answers that I wasn’t prepared to give him.
“Let’s meet at the bar next week.” Reagan stood and gathered her purse.
My chin dipped in a nod as she passed me on her way to the door. Billy begrudgingly followed behind her, as did the rest of the group.
I stood out on my front porch as everyone walked to their perspective cars. Billy got in his truck and slammed the door. He didn’t exactly peel out but his tires spun and he left a cloud of dust in his wake as he headed down the path toward the main road.
The rest of us watched as his truck disappeared over the horizon.
“Looks like the panty dropper’s panties are in a bunch,” Jimmy teased as he climbed in the driver’s seat of his pickup.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Reagan snapped her fingers before getting into her Prius. “You have new neighbors. Bernard Thompson’s granddaughter is moving into his house.”
“I didn’t know Old Man Thompson had a granddaughter.” Jimmy’s brow creased as he rested his elbow on his window and leaned out.