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From the sound of his voice, I pictured him dragging his hand through his hair. “It’s my thing.” He paused. “Damn it!”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I just…fuck…fuck…fuck! I need to get in touch with Bentley.”
“Is that the client?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. Well, I’ll let you go deal with that.”
“Jesus, seven years of working my ass off could’ve gone out the window if you hadn’t told me that.”
It felt good to have helped. “Well, now I’m glad I went tonight after all.”
“Went?”
“To dinner with Blake.”
The line fell silent. When Donovan finally spoke again, his voice was flat. “I gotta run. Thanks for the information.”
CHAPTER 12
* * *
Donovan
“What the hell?”
I stood at the curb of Bud’s house with a bag of garbage in hand, watching a car come down the street. The sound of something scraping along the asphalt grew louder as it approached, and sparks shot out of the driver’s side wheel well. When the car pulled up, I realized it was Autumn behind the wheel. Her side quarter panel was completely dented in, and something metal hung from it, which must’ve been the source of the friction and sparks. I could see she was frazzled, especially after she parked and attempted to get out, but the door wouldn’t seem to open.
“Stop,” I yelled and put my hand up. She still jammed her shoulder into the door one more time. I walked over next to the car. “Let me try to open it from this side.”
The first few tugs on the door opened it slightly, but not enough for her to get out. So I lifted a foot up on the side of the door for leverage and yanked the thing wide. Autumn climbed out grumbling, while Storm walked around from the passenger side of the car looking a little nervous. He hadn’t seemed that uneasy the night he was locked up at the police station.
“What happened to your car?” I asked.
“Someone hit me.”
“Are you okay?” I looked at Storm. “You good?”
“We’re fine,” Autumn assured me. “We weren’t in the car when it happened. I stopped a few blocks away to pick up a cake to bring Bud. When I came out, someone had smashed into my car.” She looked over at the dent, then nodded toward Storm. “Thankfully, this one doesn’t think I’m capable of walking into a store without a bodyguard, or he would’ve been in it.”
That made me smile. It’s not like she would’ve been mugged in broad daylight around here—well, at least the chances of it were low—but I wouldn’t have let her go in alone either.
I nodded at Storm. “Good looking out.”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “When I asked the other driver for his insurance card, he said he didn’t have any. Who drives without insurance?”
“Did you get a police report?” I asked.
“I did—even though the guy didn’t want me to call them.”
Well, that explained why they were an hour late. I’d been beginning to think she wasn’t going to show, that maybe she was pissed off because of the attitude I’d given her last night on the phone.
I crouched down next to her tire and took a peek inside the wheel well. “The cop should’ve called a tow truck. You shouldn’t have driven this thing.”
“It’s just a dent.”
I shook my head. “Look at the rim of the tire. It’s supposed to be round, Autumn.”
She squinted and then frowned. “Oh…I didn’t notice that.”
“Your rim is bent, part of the body of your car is pushing against the brakes on the tire, and you’re dragging metal.”
She sighed. “Great.”
I nodded toward Bud’s house. “Come on. Let’s go inside. There’s a good body shop a few blocks away—or at least there was a few years ago. I’ll check with Bud to see if it’s still open. If it is, we can ask them to take a look and see if they can make it safe for driving. Then at least you can get it fixed somewhere closer to home.”
“How would we get it there? You just said it wasn’t safe for me to drive.”
“It’s not. That’s why I’ll be driving your car, and you can follow me in mine. Storm can stay here with Bud.”
***
“Thank you for this,” Autumn said.
I opened the passenger door of my car outside Demott’s Body Shop.
Autumn looked up at me before she got in. “Listen, about last night on the phone. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
“It’s fine. I realized something after we hung up that made me feel better.”
Her face wrinkled. “What?”
“You were talking to me about Dickson—telling me stuff you wouldn’t have mentioned if he were with you.”
“Yes, so?”
“That means you were home alone. You went out to dinner with a guy you’ve been dating for a while, yet you were back at your place, all by yourself, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock.”
“I had a headache.”
