Maury’s record, made her top priority. I think he figured Maury had psycho killer potential, but he didn’t want to alarm me. He never liked to alarm me. Hence, he tended to hide things from me. This time it was too late—I had already made the leap myself.
I drove Danny to school and waited until he’d vanished into the stream of children walking through its front doors. He seemed to have a spring in his step this morning, maybe because Ray had asked me to bring Danny to the public safety building at seven p.m. tonight to visit his father. When I told Danny the plan at breakfast, his eyes had lit up, and he couldn’t wait to go out the door and get the day started. Perhaps he thought it would pass more quickly if he got the jump on it. I, on the other hand, dreaded what his visit to his father might bring, fearing Danny wouldn’t hold up well to learning about his mother’s and his aunt’s deaths, not to mention the fact that the police now considered his father to be their number one suspect.
At nine-ten I walked into the showroom. The door was unlocked. The bells jingled to announce my arrival, but Cory did not appear. I headed toward the garage entrance.
“Over here.”
I jumped. My purse dropped to the floor. I turned to find Cory sitting behind the wheel of the Ferrari in the middle of the showroom floor.
He waggled his fingers at me. “Sorry.”
I picked up my purse and walked over to climb into the passenger’s seat.
The moment my butt hit the seat, I remembered that a dead man had been the last one to … ah … rest on it. I blocked that memory out of my mind and closed the door. If I couldn’t get past it, how could I expect a customer to?
“Why are you sitting here, Cory?”
“Brennan and I watched some old black and white movies last night, the kind where the couples sat in the cars as though they were driving and the scenery moved past them.”
I smiled. “Ah, yes.”
“I don’t have anything to work on this morning, so I’m pretending Monte Carlo is moving past.”
I leaned my head against the seat rest. “Is it hot out?”
“Very. Not a cloud in the sky.”
I closed my eyes and felt the sun on my face, which wasn’t too tough since it was pouring in through the showroom window. The temperature today in Wachobe had risen to fifty degrees already. We were looking at a second Indian summer. Must be all that global warming.
“And they’re racing today. We’re in the lead.”
I opened my eyes and glanced over at him. “You’ve gotten the racing bug all of a sudden, haven’t you?”
He grinned back at me, his teeth glittering ivory from all the whiteners he used on them. According to Cory, a stage actor must have gloriously white teeth. I’d wondered more than once if he’d reached the point where they glowed in the dark. “Brennan’s excited to race this Mazda. The turbo’s got a lot of power.”
“Do you see us getting involved with other race teams, or just Brennan?”
“Just Brennan, unless you think differently.”
I closed my eyes again. “I don’t. To be honest, I’ve been wondering if I should get out of the sports car business altogether. You’re the moneymaker here. I haven’t sold much this past year and I still have this lemon.”
Cory touched my forearm. I turned toward him again.
“I think the time is coming for this car, Jo. People have forgotten about the murder. And now that fuel economy standards mandate a corporate average fuel economy of 35 miles per gallon by 2020, America isn’t going to be manufacturing the sports car classics like the Corvette. Pretty soon it will be all about imports. Our knowledge and skills will be in demand, you’ll see.”
Everything I’d read gave me the same idea, but still … “I thought about offering you the business.”
His head wagged back and forth. “I don’t want the responsibility, Jo. The last few months sucked without you. I was afraid you weren’t coming back. I wouldn’t have time for Summer Theater without you. I love cars, but I love the theater, too. I want the time to do both. Besides—” he slid his hand into mine “—we’re a team. Batman and Robin. The Lone Ranger and Tonto.”
I tapped the Ferrari’s dashboard with my free hand. “Laurel and Hardy.”
His girly eyelashes batted. “I don’t do slapstick comedy.”