Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Cordelia
“April, I don’t understand why the mass air flow sensor would be causing this issue.” I curl the paper over the clipboard, so I can read the second page. “Why would the client say that?”
April wipes her hands on her navy jumper and glances at me with bright green eyes. “I know. It ticks me off too.”
“Because the client thinks they know more than us?”
“It’s not the client’s fault. Whoever worked on their car before didn’t run enough tests. They just told the customer to buy new parts, but new parts won’t fix a problem that hasn’t even been identified.”
“So the client told us it was the M.A.F. sensor because of their previous mechanic?”
“Yup.” April’s lips twist into a frown. “I wouldn’t pay that any mind. Run your diagnostic tests first before you come to any conclusions.”
I slip my notebook from my back pocket and turn the pages until I locate the prior week’s notes. “I’m supposed to use the picoscope and OBD2 scanner to test the waveforms, right?”
“Right.” April gives me an approving nod. “You’re a quick study, Davenport.”
That’s because my entire life is auto repair now. I eat it, breathe it, and, well, if I could sleep…I’d dream of it too. I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole and entered a whole new world.
Glancing around, I realize that April and I are the only two people here. “Where did Rebel go?”
“To Stewart Kinsey’s old garage.”
My eyes widen. The last time Rebel interacted with Stewart Kinsey, the old man got The Pink Garage’s building condemned and threatened Rebel and her mom with a bat. Now he’s in jail where he belongs. Last I heard, his garage was being shut down.
April taps her engine-oil-stained fingers on the table. “She technically owns that garage now.”
“Rebel?”
April nods.
“So are we moving into Stewart Kinsey’s garage?”
Obviously, it’s a bit awkward. Stewart Kinsey was such an awful man. But, the idea isn’t unpalatable. Kinsey’s garage is much larger than The Pink Garage.
“Rebel doesn’t want to move there, and neither do I.” April checks the waveforms on her scanner while she talks. “That place has too many memories for us.”
“But it’s a building. One you don’t have,” I argue. “One you need.”
“The mechanics working there need it more.”
I would not be sentimental about this. Rebel owns Stewart Kinsey’s garage, and therefore, the old mechanics can either be booted out or given new jobs at The Pink Garage.
April smiles. “Rebel and Gunner talked about it, and they want to hire a new CEO and have them run the shop with the other technicians.”
“What? You’re building up your own competition!”
“Look around, Delia. We have more cars than we can handle.” She gestures to the packed lot. “Diagnostic repair isn’t quick work. The more we dive into this type of repair, the more patient our customers have to be. Not everyone wants that kind of service.”
“But…they’re Stewart Kinsey’s mechanics.”
April grabs two cans of the pink lemonade and tosses a bottle at me. “Stewart’s the bad guy, not his mechanics.”
I applied to Stewart’s garage when I was looking around for a job, and I met the man and his mechanics. I can say with certainty that a few of his technicians are just like him.
But before I can make my case, a sleek Lamborghini rolls to a stop on the grass. I drool over the shiny rims and gorgeous paint job.
I’ve seen Chance McLanely’s convertible a hundred times by now—he and Gunner Kinsey practically live at the garage—but, no matter how often he comes by, I always stop and stare at his convertible.
April runs to her boyfriend. “Hey.”
“Hey, Tink.” Chance McLanely wraps her in a hug and lifts her until her steel-toed boots leave the grass. His arms look big enough to crush her, but he’s as gentle with her as a glassmaker with a new creation.
“What are you doing here?” April tilts her head up at him. When she’s all soft and smiley like this, she seems like a completely different woman than the tactical mechanic that she is in work mode.
Chance looks amused. “What am I—you didn’t forget me, did you?”
“Forget you and the very important thing that you’re here to pick me up for?” April says in a playful voice. “Nope. I totally remembered. But just in case, can you tell me what you think I’m forgetting?”
Chance grins at her as if she’s the best thing since custom exhaust systems. “My dad. You. Me. Dinner?”
“Oh. Right!” April smacks her forehead and leaves a dirty stain. “Randal!”
Chance wipes away the dirt with his thumb and then sets a tender kiss on her forehead. “He’s really excited about this.”
“I am too. I can’t believe it slipped my mind.” April steps out of her boyfriend’s arms. “I’ll be right back.”
“If you’re in a rush, I can put up the tools,” I offer awkwardly.
“Thanks, Delia, but I have one more teeny, weeny test I want to run.” April lifts her fingers an inch apart and smiles apologetically at Chance.
He checks his watch. “Fine, babe. Ten minutes.”
“I love you.” April bounces on her toes and kisses his cheek before scampering off. When Chance moves to follow her, she shoos him away. “No, you’ll distract me with your hotness, and if I only have ten minutes, I need to focus.”
The tall hockey player tosses April an indulgent smile and retreats to the cooler where I’m standing.
“Hey, Delia.” Chance dips his chin at me.
“Hey.”
“Have you heard from Renthrow lately?”
I frown at the question. There’s a note of expectation in Chance’s voice that I don’t care for. “Why would I? Renthrow and I have nothing to do with each other.”
His eyebrows jump subtly.
“Did he say something different?” I demand.
Chance clears his throat. “No, he didn’t say anything.”
I nod.
The hockey player’s eyes search my face, making me squirm.
I tap a nail against the side of my soda can and ask as casually as I can, “How’s Gordie?”
His expression pinches. “Uh, Gordie is… She’s been having, uh… She’s a little less than okay.”
“Is she sick?”
“No, no…” Chance stares at the floor, his lips pursed.
“Did she go to the hospital for something? Like did she break her arm?”
“Physically, she’s very healthy.”
“And…what about all the other ‘llys’?”
“I’m not sure.” Chance offers nothing more.
This has been illuminating.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” I mumble.
Chance opens his mouth, seems to think better of it, and then flattens his lips together.
Unease follows me with each step I take. Should I press Chance for more details? Find out what put that concerned look on his face? And then what? What am I going to do with the information if it is, indeed, something bad?
I can’t save Gordie. I couldn’t save my sister.
But my curiosity refuses to release me.
I turn back and face him.
Chance looks at me expectantly.
My heart is beating in my ears. Is Gordie really not okay?
I point at April instead. “She’s not going to take ten minutes.”
“I know.” Chance lowers his voice. “Before I came, I told my dad to push dinner down by an hour.”
“You really are a mechanic’s boyfriend.”
“And a proud one at that.” He offers a charming grin.
I can’t help grinning in return before making my way back to the car I’m working on.
As predicted, April does not take ten minutes, but she and Chance leave about forty minutes later, and I’m left at the garage alone.
A little after five, my phone rings.
It’s an unknown number, but I pick it up right away. Last week, Rebel and April rigged my phone to pick up calls forwarded to the shop. This is my first, real emergency call without my bosses here.
“Hello? This is The Pink Garage? How can I help you?”
“Cordelia, hi! It’s me. Mrs. Renthrow. Viking’s mother.”
My fingers tighten on the phone. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
“Viking’s car is giving tons of trouble lately. I told him ages ago to take it to you, so you can look it over, but he just refuses.”
“If he’s uncomfortable with me checking it out, I can refer him to April or Rebel—”
“Are April and Rebel available right now?”
“Not right this moment, but—”
“Exactly. Renthrow needs this car to take Gordie to school and to her…” Mrs. Renthrow’s voice suddenly breaks, and she inhales shakily. “Anyway, we need help. Right now. It can’t wait.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek.
The alarm bells in my head are going off again. Mom hasn’t called since the last time she tried to set me up with Renthrow. She probably knows that I’ve got a mouthful to say about her matchmaking attempt.
However, even if this is attempt number two, I’m a mechanic, and it’s my job to fix broken-down vehicles. I can’t turn down this job.
Maybe I can check on Gordie too.
“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”