Chapter 9
Cassie
Lincoln's right to be suspicious about my quick agreement to trust him. I want to trust him more than anything. My dad used to say that trust was the building block for any good relationship.
His story about my dad's intervention brings back many wholesome memories. But the strange thing is, he's not too far off. I need to talk with Quinn, and we need to get to the bottom of what Lincoln is involved in.
My dad used to say you had to have a partner's back, even when they don't know they need saving. I'm not giving up on Lincoln, not anytime soon. But that doesn't mean I'm just going to go along with the way he wants to do things anymore.
He pulls the station wagon into the car lot. This car looks like it's been forgotten as if its best days are long gone. I hop out and wait for Lincoln at the front of the station wagon. There are half a dozen cars strewn across the lot. Most are dusty, and a few have tacky orange and yellow "For Sale" signs on the windows .
An older man emerges from a small building at the back of the property. He's holding a green microfiber cloth and wearing the same overalls as mechanics. His round face lights up when he spots Lincoln.
"Lincoln, fancy seeing you here. Just like the good old days."
Good old days? I want to ask what the man means by that. Lincoln steps forward and shakes his hand, then motions to me.
"It's good to be back, Martin. Sorry I haven't stopped by more often. But you always know where to find me. Suco and Love Private Investigations is still in business." Lincoln grins and pulls me forward. "This is actually my partner, Cassie Love."
Martin holds out his hand, which is covered in grease. I don't allow myself to flinch as I shake it.
"It's nice to meet you. Martin Sparrow, at your service." Now that I see him up close, I notice the wrinkles around his eyes and his graying hair. He is at least my dad’s age. "Condolences about your father; he was a good man."
"Thank you." It's still a bit jarring whenever I run into someone who knew my dad and hasn't seen me since coming back. They offer their condolences for his death. It's touching to see how many people cared about him. However, it's not surprising. My dad was kind when it came to people. Others could sense it, and it made them love him all the more.
"So, what can I do for you two young folks?"
Lincoln smiles. "Calling me young is a great start."
"You're a spring chicken; nothing to be complaining about." Martin continues wiping his hands on the microfiber cloth. I glance down at my hands to see how much grease got on me. Thankfully, it's just a little smudge on my finger.
"There was a young woman who had some details about this car lot in her calendar. We were just wondering if she happened to borrow or buy a car from you?"
Lincoln pulls out the printed picture of Anita I gave him the other day. Martin shuffles around in his pocket, pulling out a pair of stained glasses. He pushes them up on the bridge of his nose and peers at the picture.
"Ah, yes. A nice young lady, though very nervous. She kept looking around, and she was so jumpy you would have thought she had a team of jackals after her."
"Jumpy?" Lincoln's voice has a tone of caution.
"That's right. She was rather worried about anyone finding out if she'd gotten her car here. I wouldn't be telling anyone else, but of course, I trust you."
"Right. Thank you for that." Lincoln glances at me, and I wonder if Martin is trustworthy. Had he accidentally told someone else about Anita's car? Perhaps the person looking for her?
Meredith Thornton. That's who's looking for her. Great, now I'm thinking like Lincoln.
"So, here's the strange thing." Martin leans forward as if he's about to break the case wide open. "I sell her the car, cheap price, $300. It's not like I'm selling top-of-the-line merchandise here. Next thing I hear, two days later, the mechanic calls me saying he has one of my junkers in his garage."
"She left it at the mechanic shop?" Lincoln raises his eyebrows.
"No, she didn't leave it. She just had it fixed there. It was there for almost a full day before she took it. My friend is down at the mechanic shop. He can give you the details. The name is Mack."
"That's right, I take the station wagon there regularly." Lincoln runs a hand over his face, and for a moment, I think I see exhaustion there. He's definitely involved with something he's not telling us about, and I'm starting to worry about it. I have a feeling it has something to do with Phineas and how much time they're spending together.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“I think that’s about it. Thank you again.” Lincoln shakes Martin’s hand, and then I’m next.
“No, thank the two of you for coming by.” Martin has a pensive look on his face as we make our way back to the station wagon.
“That went well, don’t you think?” Lincoln is in a good mood, maybe too good of a mood.
“Well enough.” I wait until we’re in the station wagon and out of earshot before I bring up the rest of my concerns.
“Maybe we should have asked who else he told about Anita and the car she bought.”
“He wouldn’t have told us.” Lincoln shakes his head. “I’ve known Martin for quite a while, and he’s not the most discreet person. He would never admit to it, though.”
“So, do you think he told the wrong person about the car she bought and got her into trouble somehow?”
“I’m not sure, but maybe the mechanic will have some answers.”
“You really do know everyone in town.” A hint of jealousy slithers through me. I feel almost everyone has forgotten me in my time out of town. Perhaps some of them remember me as my father’s daughter or as the girl from Pinecrest who made it big in Hollywood. There’s something different about connecting with people on a deeper level. It’s almost like Lincoln is friends with everyone in town, whether he knows them well or not.
“I’ve worked with a lot of people in town, but that doesn’t make them my friends. I only have a couple of friends. You and Quinn pretty much fill that list.”
I clear my throat, shaking off whatever feelings I have at that statement. “What do you know about the mechanic?”
“He’s a stand-up guy and not as talkative as Martin. Maybe we can get the door handle fixed while we’re there.”
“Please do.” My hands are starting to ache from rolling the window up and down every single time we need to get out of the car.
The mechanic shop is in a much more populated area of town. It doesn’t look anywhere near abandoned, and several cars are parked out front waiting for service. Lincoln parks on the curb and leans against the passenger window after getting out of the car.
“Are you coming in?”
“Yep, I’m just finishing up a few notes.” I scribble in the rest of my thoughts about our interaction with Martin on my notepad, then hop out and follow Lincoln toward the mechanic shop.
My worries over Lincoln’s latest behavior will have to wait. Right now, we have a missing person’s case to solve .
Link
I make my way past all of the cars waiting for Mack’s attention. He’s my age and has worked hard at his business for years. Everyone knows he’s a great mechanic and can make almost anything run. It helps that he’s the only mechanic in Pinecrest. If your car has a problem, you end up on his doorstep.
It takes a little while, but then he notices us from across the shop. He lifts his hand and heads toward us.
“Lincoln! What are you doing here? Don’t tell me the station wagon broke down again.”
“Hey, Mack. It’s not broken down again, but it does have a busted door handle. Let me know when it’s a good time to bring it in.”
Mack nods and motions for us to follow him as he goes over to inspect a nearby car.
“I’d love to stand and chat, but there’s so much going on around here. I have a backlog of projects that you wouldn’t believe.”
“Oh, I believe it.” I motion for Cassie to follow me, noticing her eyes darting around the shop. She is always taking in details and writing them down in her notepad. Sometimes, those little details can come back and save the case. She’s a spitting image of her dad. She even taps her pen against her lip when she stops to think.
“Who’s your beautiful friend?” Mack settles his gaze on Cassie for just a little too long. He holds out his hand and shakes hers, staring into her eyes the whole time.
“I’m Cassie, his partner.” Her cheeks turn a deep red, which makes me want them to stop shaking hands.
“Well, Cassie, what can I do for you?” Mack finally lets go of her hand, and I try to pull his attention back to me.
“We’re here to see if you remember a woman who came here recently with a broken-down car.” Cassie smiles one of those million-dollar-movie-star smiles and tips her head sideways, and my heart thuds harder in my chest. Am I really jealous of the attention she’s getting? Cassie is allowed to have a life or male interests if she wants.
“I have a lot of customers. There are a lot of people who have come in recently.”
Pulling out the picture, I hold it up for him to see. He frowns and then squints at the picture as if searching through his memory for clues regarding Anita.
“I do remember her. I'm not sure if I should…”
“We're investigating her disappearance. We're worried something might have happened to her.” Cassie’s tone is convincing, and Mack lets out a huff of air.
“That would make a lot of sense. She came in here distraught. Somebody slashed her tires while she was parked around the corner.” Mack’s eyes dart around the shop as if checking to see if anyone’s listening.
My mind goes to Phineas. What if he wanted Anita out of the picture for some reason?
“Do you know where she planned to go after she got the car fixed?” Cassie asks the next question on my mind.
“Well, she mentioned she would be driving for a while. When I asked where she wanted to get to, she said Mesquite, Montana. She wanted me to put used tires on the car, and I worried about her making it all the way there.”
“She didn't mention why she wanted to go there?” This is more than we’ve figured out about Anita's whereabouts since we started.
“No, but I could see she was in trouble. The way she was so nervous and jumpy made me think someone was after her.” Mac leans against the car he'd finished inspecting, and Cassie touches his arm.
A jolt of heat rushes through me. She’s trying to get him to feel comfortable enough to tell us what we need to know, but still…
“If someone was, we're going to figure out who.”
I can already see where her thoughts are headed. It looks like Cassie and I are going on a road trip to figure out what was going on with Anita and what she wanted to do in Mesquite.
“You could give me your number, and if I think of anything else, I'll call you,” Mack says with a wink in Cassie's direction.
“Sure!” She pulls out a piece of her notepad and scribbles down her number before passing it to Mack. I swear she looks at me as she does, as if she wants to see my reaction. He looks like he just won the lottery.
I just shake my head and wave goodbye to Mack. Cassie follows me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye and that smirk she gets when she knows I’m annoyed.
“Do you think he wanted my number to ask me out?” She jumps into the station wagon.
“I'm sure that’s exactly why he wanted it. Why did you give it to him?”
Watching her expression, I try to decide if she’s just messing with me to get a reaction or if she’s actually serious about allowing Mack’s attention.
“I don’t know. Maybe he’ll remember something useful, and he’ll call me.” She winks, and I groan internally.
She is definitely trying to get a reaction. That’s fine with me. Two can play that game, and we’re about to be stuck in a car together for eight hours or more if we’re going to Mesquite together.