“Do you have your keys?” he asks, holding my gaze. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Oh, yeah. Hang on.” I fumble through my purse, finally pulling them out and handing them over.
“Thanks,” he says with an easy smile.
Ashlyn and I follow him outside to where my beat-up Honda Civic is parked. “That’s mine,” I say, gesturing toward the car. “One of the warning lights came on and started flashing red. Dad always told me to pull over if it flashed red, so I did.”
Wyatt nods approvingly. “Smart move.” He unlocks the car, slides into the driver’s seat, and turns the key. After a few moments, he nods.
“It’s the engine coolant warning,” Wyatt says. “We can try adding some water to see if it helps.”
“I’ve got a bottle in the trunk,” I offer.
“I’ll grab it,” Ashlyn says, already heading to the back of the car.
Wyatt pops the hood and steps out just as Ashlyn returns, handing him the bottle. He unscrews the cap and carefully pours the water into the reservoir.
“Sometimes it’s just low coolant,” he explains, tossing the empty bottle to Ashlyn. “But other times, it can signal something more serious.”
He slides back behind the wheel and starts the engine again. “Let’s see if that did the trick.”
I hold my breath. If this works, Dad might be a little less pissed. At least he won’t have to worry about a tow truck.
Wyatt glances at the dashboard, then at me. His expression says it all. “Sorry, Laney. The light’s still on. I don’t think this car’s moving anywhere tonight.”
“Damn it,” I mutter, frustrated. “Thanks for trying.”
He shrugs as he steps out and closes the hood. “It was worth a shot.”
Ashlyn turns to me. “Do you have everything you need from the car?”
I hold up my purse. “This is it.”
“Okay, let’s get going then,” she says.
I trail after them across the parking lot to Ashlyn’s Audi.
“Nice car,” I comment as she unlocks the doors and Wyatt climbs into the back seat.
“Thanks. I love it,” she replies, sliding in behind the wheel.
“I would’ve taken the back,” I say as I settle into the front seat.
Wyatt waves me off. “I’m good.”
Once we’re all in, Ashlyn pulls out of the lot and heads back toward Hope Creek.
After a few minutes, she glances over at me. “Do you want me to call your dad, or would you rather text him?”
“I’ll text,” I sigh. “I’m not up for another lecture on speakerphone.”
She gives me a sympathetic look while I tap out a message, letting Dad know we’re on our way home.
Then I glance over my shoulder. “Thanks again for coming along, Wyatt, and for looking at my car.”
He gives a casual nod. “No problem.”
“How do you know so much about cars, anyway?” I ask.
