CHAPTER 3
The silence in the garage was deafening. The only sound was the low hum of the air compressor in the corner.
Richard didn’t look like a thug. He looked like a man used to giving orders in glass boardrooms. But the two men standing slightly behind him were a different story. They were built like brick walls, wearing suits that barely concealed the heavy muscle underneath. They weren’t corporate security; they were muscle.
I stepped away from the trunk of the Honda, wiping my greasy hands on a shop rag. I deliberately kept my movements slow, casual. I walked to the center of the garage, putting my body directly between Richard and Claire.
Bear and Rook didn’t need to be told. They flanked me. Bear picked up a three-foot steel breaker bar, resting it casually against his shoulder. Rook slid his hand into the pocket of his coveralls, his eyes locked on the goon to the left.
“Shop’s closed, pal,” I said, tossing the rag onto a nearby tool chest. “And the car belongs to the lady. Unless her name is Richard, you don’t have any business being here.”
Richard smiled. It was a terrifying expression. It didn’t reach his eyes. “My name is on the registration. I am her husband. She was in a minor fender bender, and I appreciate you towing it off the street, but we’ll be taking it from here.”
“No,” I said simply.
Richard’s smile vanished. He took a half-step forward. “Excuse me?”
“I’m a certified mechanic,” I lied smoothly, buying time. “I’ve assessed the vehicle. The brake lines are compromised. By state law, I cannot release an unsafe vehicle back onto the road without completing the repairs. It’s a liability issue. You want the car, you can pay the invoice when the work is done tomorrow.”
Richard’s eyes flicked toward the back of the garage, trying to see the trunk. He knew I was stalling. He knew I had seen the cut lines.
“I don’t think you understand who you’re talking to,” Richard said, his voice dropping into a menacing whisper. “I own half the commercial real estate on this block. I can have the city inspectors shut this grease trap down by tomorrow morning. I can have the police here in five minutes to arrest you for grand theft auto.”
“Call them,” Bear rumbled, taking a heavy step forward, the steel bar gleaming under the fluorescent lights. “Let’s show the cops the clean razor cut on the brake line. Let’s see what they think about attempted murder.”
Richard’s jaw tightened. He realized he had miscalculated. He had expected to intimidate a low-level grease monkey. He hadn't expected an organized, armed standoff in a room full of heavy tools. He looked at the two goons beside him. They were big, but they were in our territory. We had the high ground, the weapons, and nothing to lose.
Richard looked past me, locking eyes with Claire, who was shaking uncontrollably, her arms wrapped tightly around Sam.
“Claire, darling,” Richard said, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re coming home right now. Bring the boy.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” I said, stepping into his line of sight. “Get out of my shop. Now.”
Richard stared at me for a long, calculating moment. He buttoned his suit jacket, adjusting his cuffs with sickening calm.
“You’re making a very permanent mistake for a woman you don’t even know,” Richard said softly. “I will be back. And I won’t be asking politely next time.”
He turned on his heel and walked out the front door, his two shadows following silently behind him.
I didn't exhale until the black SUV pulled away from the curb. Bear immediately rushed to the front door, pulling the heavy steel security gate shut and throwing the deadbolts.
“They’re coming back,” Rook said, his voice tight. “He isn’t going to just let that box sit here.”
“I know,” I said. I turned back to the Honda.
Claire had collapsed against a workbench, her hands covering her face, sobbing. Sam was holding her hand, looking at me with wide, terrified eyes. I walked over to the trunk and reached inside the hollowed-out spare tire basin.
I opened the heavy lid of the lockbox.
I expected cash. I expected drugs. But the box was filled with thick manila folders, ledgers, and a stack of legal documents. I pulled out the first folder and opened it on the workbench under a bright halogen lamp.
Bear and Rook crowded around me.
“What is it?” Bear asked.