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“No, tomorrow,” he joked. “Yeah, now. I’ll finish up Mrs. McClusky’s car.”
I eyed him carefully. “You sure?”
“Boy, I ain’t eighty.”
Reaching out to pat his arm, I grinned. “Dang well close enough, old man.”
“Get to it before I tan your hide.”
I shook my head and grabbed my keys, wallet, and phone off the desk in the office. Then I headed out to Shifty’s, listening to country hits on the radio the whole way there.
Well, except for when one of Laney’s songs came on. I’d hit that next preset button so hard I darn-near jammed my finger switching to the oldies station. I changed it back after a few minutes, only to bail again when her pretty-boy boyfriend’s latest hit came on.
Pulling onto Shifty’s ten-acre plot on the outskirts of town, I caught sight of him and his wife, Bernice, having what looked like a bit of a disagreement in front of his backed-in pickup. I swung wide and backed my truck into position to load his, just in case I couldn’t help him out right here and now.
“Hey, y’all,” I said as I climbed down from the tow truck with a nod.
“Look what you did,” Bernice hissed, pointing at me with such force it faltered my steps. “Now he’s here for the truck, and I ain’t emptied it yet.”
“Well, if you woulda listened to me about where to put everythin’ in the first place—” Shifty cut in, arms swinging wide.
“Don’t you start with me, you old coot,” she threatened.
Bernice was a little thing—so little I worried the autumn breeze might carry her away—but she made up for it in temperament. I’d known since I was waist-high that getting on Bernice’s bad side was a no-fly zone, and suddenly I wished I’d taken my sweet time getting over here.
I scratched my head, eyeing the hunks of junk as tall as the house that surrounded their property. “Um, I can come back if y’all need a minute to—”
Bernice rolled her eyes. “Don’t you start, neither. You’re here now, so go ahead and peek under the hood.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, giving Shifty a sympathetic look as I passed him on the way to his truck. The hood was already popped, and the second I took that look-see, I regretted it. “Shoot, Shifty. That’s some mess.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he replied, lifting his sweat-stained ball cap off his bald head and twisting it in his hands.
Bernice made an exasperated noise and stomped off toward the house, letting the screen door slam behind her.
I took another gander under the hood with a wrinkled nose. Carnage filled every visible nook and cranny, and by the looks of things, I’d wager this mess had once been arranged in the shape of a squirrel.
I sighed. “You should really knock on your hood before you start ’er up from now on.”
“It ain’t my fault them squirrels can’t tell the difference between a runnin’ motor and busted one. I’ve got plenty of each lyin’ round.”
He wasn’t exaggerating. By my count, there were at least six engines dispersed throughout the junkyard he called a garden, and enough parts to make up a few more where that came from. Funny thing was, Shifty didn’t know jack about cars. He was just hoarding the hunks of metal, as useless to him as the rest of it.
I clapped him on one skinny shoulder. “I’ll get her loaded up and take her back to the shop. She’ll be good as new in no time.”
“Bernice?” he asked hopefully.
I gave him a blank look. “No, the truck, Shifty.”
“Well, here’s the thing,” he went on, glancing over his shoulder at the rickety old house. “That’s what me and the missus were arguin’ about when you pulled up. We just went antiquin’ and didn’t have time to unload, and she doesn’t want anyone to steal the goods.”
With a lifted brow, I walked over to the truck bed and sighed heavily. Shifty and Bernice’s version of antiquing looked a whole lot more like dumpster diving, and the back of their pickup was weighed down with what appeared to be everything including the kitchen sink.
Cuffing the sleeves of my jumpsuit, I jerked a chin toward the load. “I’ll give you a hand.”
“No, no. We were fightin’ because I was tryin’ to do it quickly and she wants to organize. Why don’t you come back in a little while after she’s told me where she wants it all to go?”
“Are you sure? She can tell me where to put stuff too, and it’ll go a heck of a lot faster with my help.”
