I heard the gate before I saw the truck.
Metal shuddered somewhere behind us.
Jade’s head snapped up.
Crystal froze with the notebook in her hand.
I lifted one hand, palm down, and both sisters froze lower beside the unit.
An engine rolled into the facility, rougher than mine, with a belt squeak that repeated every few seconds. Tires moved over gravel. Slow. Too slow for someone coming to grab a forgotten couch before work.
I stepped closer to the corner of the unit row and watched through the narrow slice of lane.
A white work truck turned past the office. Mud streaked the lower panels. A ladder rack sat over the bed, with tarps, buckets, and a bundle of cleanout straps strapped down under bungee cords. Black lettering covered the door.
PENDLETON CLEANOUT & HAULING
Crystal made a sound like the air had gone out of her.
Jade rose with the tire iron down at her side. “That him?”
Crystal nodded once. “Ike Pendleton.”
The truck stopped crosswise at the mouth of our lane, blocking the straight shot to the gate.
The driver’s door opened.
Ike Pendleton climbed out like a man arriving for a job he didn’t expect to argue about. Late fifties, thick through the shoulders, weathered face, gray stubble, work boots, faded jeans, and a canvas jacket with dust ground into the cuffs. He held a pry bar in one hand and a phone in the other.
His eyes found me first, then Crystal.
His expression flattened into something that wasn’t surprise.
“Well,” Ike said. “Frank said you were good.”
Crystal backed into the unit.
Jade moved with her.
I kept my hands empty and visible. “Ike Pendleton.”
He glanced at me with a rough little smile. “Guess the bookkeeper talked.”
“She’s been doing that.”
“Shame. Quiet suited her better.”
Jade took one step out of the unit. “You want to try saying that closer?”
Ike’s focus shifted to her.
Irritation crossed his face. Then his eyes moved from Jade’s face to Crystal’s, and the irritation changed.
He stared.
“What the hell is this?”
Jade smiled without warmth. “Family reunion. You bring potato salad?”
