For the first time she was glad Theo had not called. A shiver swept through her. Something was going on with him, and whatever it was, it was not good.

She pulled the entrance door open and stepped into the business side of Robby’s shop. The smell of grease and cleaner made her nose twitch. She waited a few steps from the counter while Robby finished up with a customer. The elderly man thanked Robby and turned to go. The old man smiled at Jen, and she flashed her pearly whites back at him as he shuffled out the door.

“Uh-oh.” Robby’s expression turned dubious. “What have I done? Or not done? My anniversary is not until Saturday.”

Jen laughed as she approached the counter. “If you’ve done something or vice versa, your wife doesn’t know it yet. Not to worry, Amelia has everything under control with the anniversary party.”

Robby laughed. “She sure does. She sent me a text this morning reminding me to get her mom a present.”

“Make it a good one,” Jen cautioned.

“You have my word it will be amazing.” Robby braced his forearms on the counter. “What can I do for you, Jen?”

“That damned Chevy is acting up.” She shrugged. “When I press the accelerator, there’s a hesitation, and even when it kicks in, it’s a little sluggish. I just want to make sure everything is okay. The thought of it breaking down is more than I can bear.”

Robby rounded the end of the counter. “Come on outside, and let’s have a look.”

Outside she handed him her keys. He slid his tall frame behind the wheel, powered back the seat, and started the engine. “We’ll take her for a spin and see if we can narrow down the problem.”

She climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up. She relaxed, confident he would find the problem as he backed out of the lot and pulled away. He took a right at the next intersection and drove. When they were clear of traffic, he gunned the accelerator.

“Feel that?” she asked.

“Yep. I’m pretty sure this is no big deal.”

“Thank God.”

He repeated the maneuver and then slowed and turned around to head back to the shop. He drove nearly the whole way without saying a word. The quiet suddenly felt overwhelming. Jen didn’t know why she felt awkward. She had brought her car to Robby dozens of times. He’d been taking care of any vehicle maintenance she or her mother needed for years.

As if he’d read her mind, he asked, “You sure Diana didn’t send you to check on me?”

“I swear she did not send me.” Jen glanced at him. “Is there a reason she might have been considering the idea?”

A big breath whistled out of him. “She brought me lunch yesterday.”

“That was nice.” How Jen wished for a relationship like theirs.

“There are things going on at the shop that I can’t talk about. Diana overheard part of a phone conversation, and I don’t want her worrying. I have everything under control.”

Jen studied the big man. Whatever everything was, it had to be significant. Why else would he have brought it up? “You sure you’ve got whatever this is?”

He nodded. “It’s a tough time right now, but I’ve got it. Don’t mention that I brought it up, okay?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“You’re sure she didn’t mention anything about the call?” He glanced at her.

“She hasn’t said a word.”

When he parked in front of the shop and shut off the engine, he said, “You go on inside and grab a soda or a bottle of water, and I’ll have a look under the hood.”

“Thanks, Robby. You’re a prince.”

He laughed. “Yeah, right.”

Jen went inside and walked straight back to the small break room. It smelled of grease and gasoline, but the place was clean. She pulled out a chair from the one table and caught up on her text messages and social media. She sent Diana a text and told her she was at the shop having her car checked. Diana sent her a smiley face. Jen sent another asking Amelia what day she preferred for rescheduling their lunch.

The door opened, and Jen glanced up, hoping it was Robby. Not so lucky. Burt, his lead mechanic, gave her a nod as he sauntered over to the fridge and pulled out his lunch.

“How you doing, Jen?”

“Good. You?”

Burt was a reasonably nice-looking man. He’d been married twice, and like her he was still alone. He was attracted to her; she knew he was. Maybe she should pay him a little attention.

God help her, she was losing it. A grease monkey—no offense to Robby—was not her idea of Mr. Right.

“I’m doing real good. Just paid off my mortgage and bought a new car. I’m mighty fine.” He beamed a smile.

“Wow. That’s great.”

“I’m thinking of celebrating.”

The man had a house. Paid for. She blinked. Decided not to touch that open invitation. “I think I’ll have a bottle of water.” She stood and started for the fridge.

“You might have to check the freezer part. I put some in there earlier to get it cold fast. Somebody didn’t remember to restock when he took the last bottle from the fridge.”

Jen opened the door to the freezer compartment. Several bottles of water, a box of ice cream sandwiches, and a bag of ice took up most of the space. She reached for a water, and a box from Drake’s—the high-end department store where she worked—captured her attention.

She grinned as she bypassed the water and reached for the box that had been tucked into a plastic bag. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

She shouldered the door closed and held the box in both hands. It was too large for a jewelry box, more like a perfume box set. But there could be a smaller box inside. Robby wouldn’t put a perfume set in the freezer.

“Oh, you’d better put that back,” Burt said. “Robby gets all out of sorts if anyone touches that box.”

“I’ll bet he does.” Jen opened the plastic bag, which was like a large freezer bag with a zip closure.

“Don’t mess with that.”

The box was snatched out of her hands before she could look up at the man who had spoken.

Robby clutched the box as if it were a football and he was running toward the end zone for the winning touchdown.

“Sorry.” She squared her shoulders, a little taken aback by his overreaction. “Is that Diana’s anniversary present?”

“No.” He tucked the box back into the freezer. “It’s something else.” He turned to her, plastered on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re good to go. You just needed a new engine air filter.”

She nodded. “Great. Thanks. I . . . I should pay you.”

“You know better than that.” He handed her the keys. “See you Saturday.”

“Saturday. Right.”

As Jen drove away, she told herself she was the one who’d overreacted. The box probably really was a gift for Diana, and he didn’t want Jen telling her.

It was no big deal.

She shook off the creepy sensation.

Everything was fine.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Just fine.”

Except it didn’t feel fine at all.

32

1:00 p.m.

Kerri slid into the passenger seat, and Falco started the engine and rolled away from the curb. Going from shop to shop and questioning owners or employees—whoever was available—was one of the most frustrating and time-consuming parts of investigative work.

“Twenty down,” Falco said all cheery.

Two of those twenty had been permanently closed. Sometimes it took a while for that sort of change to show up on the internet search engines.

“There’s always a chance she bought a gun from an individual.” Kerri exhaled a big breath. If that was the case, they might never know. In truth, she hoped Sela hadn’t bought one. Kerri wanted her to be the justice-seeking younger sister the people from her past thought she was.

Except that was looking less and less likely.

“Like Joey Keaton,” Falco suggested. “He’d sell his own aunt if the price was right.”

“No kidding. If we run out of pawnshops with no luck, we’ll track him down and ask him,” she said. He would likely lie if he had sold Sela a handgun. Two people were dead. It wouldn’t be smart to admit to selling the potential shooter a weapon.

“Can we take him out in the middle of nowhere and play with him first?”

Kerri laughed. “I wish.”

Falco answered a call on his cell, and Kerri checked her own. She sent Tori a text to see how she was doing but wasn’t expecting much of a reply. She hadn’t heard from Nick, which was likely a bad sign. As desperately as she hated to put her daughter through how it would likely end, Tori needed to see that Nick’s plan was not about making her happy; it was about Nick manipulating.

God, Kerri wished she was wrong about that.

To her surprise Tori sent her a pic of the kitchen. She’d cleaned up. Kerri sent her a wow and several happy faces. Maybe things were turning around.

“You ready for lunch?”

She turned to Falco. “Sure.”

“Good. That was my contact. Our friend Bellemont has an investigator who freelances for him. If the lawyer is in deep on anything, Ramsey is his go-to guy. We need to talk to him, and right now he’s having lunch at Pop’s over on Twentieth.”

“Great hot dogs.” Kerri had eaten there a number of times. “You know anything about this guy?”