Epilogue
Tessa
“Mo-om! Remi’s been in there for half an hour. I’ve gotta get ready!”
I swear I’m about to start drinking and it’s not even eight in the morning.
Love my kids, but they sure wear me down.
“Use my bathroom, Linc,” I yell up the stairs.
I’m not sure what’s gotten into my youngest boy, Remi, recently. A few months ago, it would’ve been a chore to get him to brush his teeth or, God forbid, have the occasional shower, but lately he’s been spending a lot of time in there.
Must be a girl. It was the same for his older brother, Lincoln, who went from looking like Pigpen and reeking like a gym locker most of the time, to clean-clothed and smelling fresh. Maybe a little heavy on the Axe, but definitely better than the scent of dirty socks.
Remi wasn’t quite that bad—he’s not into sports and athletics like his brother—but I was still relieved when he voluntarily took a shower a few weeks ago without me badgering him.
I made the mistake of asking him what had prompted it—forgetting the unspoken parenting rule to never point out the desired behavior—and got my head bitten off in response.
Still, I’m focusing on the silver lining. For the first time since puberty hit our house years ago, I can breathe freely again. Offering up what I’ve come to treasure as my personal sanctuary for the sake of peace in the house is a small sacrifice.
Maybe now I can have five quiet minutes for my coffee to take effect. Grabbing my mug, I head out the back door to the deck.
It’s a little chilly, but the cool air on my skin wakes me up and sharpens my senses.
I love this time of day, everything smells fresh and full of promise, and this view is nothing to sneeze at.
It’s one of the things that sold me on this house.
It’s a much bigger place than we had in Spokane, and for less money, which is always a bonus.
This is a quiet neighborhood on the edge of town, with mostly unspoiled nature at our back.
I loved the idea of my boys having all this space with direct access to the outdoors.
Heck, I’d even hoped it might spark some interest in Remi, who has been struggling to find his niche, but so far he’s persisted in his displeasure to have been forced to move here.
I hate to label him as such, but Remi is my worry child.
He seems so rudderless, compared to his older brother, who has always been so clear in his purpose.
Linc is a typical jock, with a focus on athletic performance first, girls a close second, and last, but not least, his grades.
Despite some of the family shit that went on in his younger years, before I divorced his father, he seems to skate his way through life.
It has to be tough for Remi to grow up in the shadow of his older brother, and I’ve tried to help him find his own light to shine in, but still my baby struggles.
“Ma!”
I tilt my head back to see my youngest poking his head out of his bedroom window.
“I need a ride.”
“Why can’t you go with Linc?”
Lincoln worked part-time jobs since he turned fifteen with the sole purpose of saving money to buy his own car. He is now the proud owner of an older Jeep Wrangler, rather beaten up, but running in good order.
“He’s picking up Naomi.”
Aha. These past few years, my eldest is never without female companionship for long, and once school started last month, it didn’t take more than a week for me to start hearing the name Naomi pop up.
Linc has picked her up for school a few times before, and I guess he told his brother to get in the back seat, so Naomi could sit in front beside him.
Remi doesn’t like to be a third wheel. I can see both their points, but I don’t have the energy to try and negotiate a compromise this morning.
I have a ton of work waiting for me back at the station and can’t afford to be late.
Luckily the high school is just a few blocks from the office.
“You’d better hustle, because I’m leaving in—” I quickly check my watch. “Three minutes.”
Once we are on our way into town, I look over at Remi, who is slumped in the passenger seat beside me, his head turned to the side window in a clear attempt to avoid any and all conversation. I’m his mom, so fat chance of that.
“Bud, happy as I am you’re spending more time in the bathroom, you’ve gotta leave time for your brother to get ready.”
A snort is my only answer.
“Hey,” I voice a little sharper. “Don’t give me attitude, when I’m doing you a favor by dropping you off at school. All I’m asking is for you to be considerate, that’s all.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to react to his disengaged response. I swear I can feel another gray hair sprouting every damn time we have one of these interactions.
Pushing him is only going to ramp up the tension in my vehicle, so I opt to let it go. Raising teenagers is like walking a minefield on a day-to-day basis.
I feel a little guilty at the relieved breath escaping me a few minutes later, when he darts out the passenger side door without a word, the moment I stop in front of his school.
Despite the coffee I had at home, I already feel like I need a damn nap.
It’s been another restless night, constant worry about Remi keeping me awake, so the moment I walk into the station, I make a beeline for the dark sludge passing for coffee in the kitchen.
It doesn’t taste great, but it sure packs the kind of punch I need this morning.
Brenda, the sheriff department’s office manager, is just coming out.
“Mornin’,” she returns my mumbled greeting as she cocks her thumb over her shoulder. “Fresh pot in there.”
“Bless your heart.”
I slip past her and inhale the fumes as I grab one of the department mugs off the shelf and fill it. I take my first sip before I turn around to find Brenda leaning against the doorway, her head tilted to one side as she scrutinizes me.
“Tough morning?”
Instantly my hand goes to my hair, which is already escaping the messy knot I turned it into after my shower.
“Is it that obvious?”
She grins. “You forget, I’ve got a couple of boys too; I recognize the look of exasperation on your face. Pretty sure I’ve worn that same expression from time to time.”
That’s right, I knew she had boys. I’ve been preoccupied getting us settled in, the boys ready for school, and myself up to speed at work, I haven’t really had the time to connect with people on a more personal level. Maybe that’s what I need for a better balance in my life.
“Exasperation, huh? Guess that describes my state pretty accurately this morning,” I return. “Any tips or suggestions are welcome; maybe over drinks some time?”
“Friday night my husband is taking the boys to Spokane to see the new Marvel movie on the big screen. Why don’t you pop by? I’ve got a fully stocked bar,” she adds with a wink.
“Sounds tempting,” I admit. “Let me check in with my hoodlums to see what they have going on that night.”
“Yeah, of course. See if it works.”
She starts walking away before she stops and turns.
“Oh, before I forget, I sent a copy of the forensics report you were waiting for to your email. It must’ve come in late last night.”
Finally.
About two weeks ago a local hunter stumbled onto what looked to be a brand-new Ford Mustang, abandoned on one of the old logging roads heading up Black Mountain.
The vehicle had been intentionally covered with brush—clearly intended to hide it from view—and when the hunter peered inside the window and noticed the passenger seat covered in blood, he immediately contacted us.
Judging from the sheer volume of blood, it looked like someone bled out in that vehicle, but we found no evidence of a body, just a few smeared prints on the inside of the door.
A VIN search on the Mustang came back to a stolen vehicle from the upscale Spokane neighborhood of Rockwood.
A blood test confirmed the blood to be human, but who it might have belonged to, as well as the whereabouts of the victim, has remained a mystery.
Hoping the forensics report will give me some guidance on this damn case I’ve been spinning my wheels on these past weeks, I rush to my desk.
*****
Clem
“Go home, Kyle. I’ll finish it up.”
As glad as I am the new, young mechanic I hired on after reopening the garage does not seem averse to working longer hours, it’s already been a long-ass day and I’m fucking starving.
“You sure?” the scrawny, redheaded kid asks, poking his head out from under the hood of the Infinity he’s working on.
“Yep. Get out of here, it’s Friday night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Tomorrow will be a busy day, but Manuel should be back, so there will be three of us to tackle the work. Manuel had a rare few days off to visit his ailing mother. One of only a few times he asked for time off since he started working for me over ten years ago.
Anyway, we’ll be at full strength tomorrow and should hopefully be able to clear out the back lot before next week.
I follow Kyle to the front and lower the massive bay door behind him, locking myself in for the night.
When fire leveled the old auto shop—which had been in the family for generations—I wasn’t sure I’d have the heart or drive to rebuild Main Street Mechanics from the ground.
It would’ve taken a year at least, during which time I wouldn’t have had an income and I’d likely have lost most of my customers in the interim.
Aside from that, the business had already outgrown the shop, and there wasn’t a large enough real estate footprint to build anything bigger.
Repurposing the old fire hall had been at the suggestion of Hugo Alexander, Edwards County Deputy Sheriff, who is a buddy of mine.
The place had sat vacant since they built the large new fire station on the outskirts of Silence.
It had taken a bit of negotiating and working out a bit of creative financing, but I was able to buy it and set up shop here.