“So would it be accurate to say you need another restoration opportunity? Maybe one that’s rare and valuable?”
It would be accurate to say that, but I wasn’t sure where this was going. “What are you talking about?”
She licked her lips. “What if I told you I know someone who has a 1970 Pontiac GTO. Convertible.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious.”
“You know someone who has the Judge.” I shook my head. There was no way. Only seventeen had been made, and five of them had disappeared entirely.
“His name is Walt Browning and he’s a collector down in northern Arizona. He’s been sitting on it for years, saying he’s going to restore it himself. But he’s like eighty years old and he has dozens of half-finished cars. I think he’s finally starting to realize he needs to let some of them go.”
I didn’t want to admit she had my attention, but damn it, she did. If she really did know a guy with a 1970 Pontiac GTO convertible, and could actually get him to sell it to me… holy shit. “Will he sell it?”
“I talked to him on the phone this morning and he said he has a guy coming to look at it already. That tells me he’s at least thinking about it.”
“He’s in Arizona?”
“Yes, and I know that’s a long way, but I’m telling you, Mr. Browning loves me. I’m sure I can talk him into it.”
“Call him.”
She crouched down to pet Sasquatch again. “I will, because obviously you’ll want to verify my story. But he won’t sell it over the phone. He only deals with people in person. He has a real emotional attachment to his cars.”
“So you’re saying you think I should drive to northern Arizona on the off chance some old guy you know might sell me his car?”
“Yes. You lost the Mustang. And I mean, a ’67 Mustang is awesome, but a ’70 Pontiac GTO convertible? We both know a shot at restoring the Judge would put this shop on the map.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“And in exchange, you want to use my shop to fix your clutch.”
Smiling, she straightened. Sasquatch stayed next to her. “Yep. And you’ll hardly know I’m around. I’ll be in and out in no time.”
“Why come here?”
“It’s a long story. All I can say is that things happened, and I had to leave. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life, but from the moment I decided to go, I knew it was right.”
Oddly, I kind of understood what that was like.
“And if the old guy won’t sell me the car?”
She shrugged. “Then the deal is off. I’ll get my car fixed another way. But he will.”
“You could still just take it to Dusty’s Auto in town. He’s a good guy, he won’t overcharge you.”
“And it’ll cost me five times as much as it would if I do the work myself. I have more time than money right now, so a few days on the road to get you this car is a lot easier for me to justify than paying someone else for something I know how to do.”
There was a strange sort of logic there. But she could also be insane. Maybe even dangerous.
She idly reached down to scratch Sasquatch’s head again. He let her.
This girl wasn’t dangerous. Not just because Sasquatch was at ease with her, although that told me a lot. I’d been wrong about people before, but those were times when I’d been off my guard. Not willing to see the truth. Right now, my judgment wasn’t clouded by emotion. She was weird, but probably harmless.
And a 1970 Pontiac GTO convertible… If this guy had any idea of what he had—and it sounded like he probably did—it would cost me a fortune. But once it was restored…
“Call the old guy. If your story checks out and he’ll show me the car, I’ll think about it.”
Smiling, Fiona scrunched her shoulders and clasped her hands. “Oh my god, thank you. I know you didn’t say yes, just that you’ll think about it, but that’s progress. Small wins, right?”
“Just call him.”
“Okay, okay.” She rooted around the pockets of her giant coat, finally pulling out a phone. “That’s so weird, neither of them has tried to call me.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just… nothing.” She tapped her screen a few times. “I’ll put him on speaker.”
It rang twice before a wheezy voice answered. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mr. Browning. It’s Fiona Gallagher.”
“Well hello, sweetheart. I get to hear your voice twice in one day.