4th of July

Chapter 107

I DROVE ACROSS THE air bell on the apron of the Man in the Moon Garage and honked a little shave-and-a-haircut until Keith came out of his office. He lifted off his baseball cap, shook out his golden hair, stuck the cap back on, smiled my way, and sauntered on over.

“Well, well. Lookit who’s here. The Woman of the Year,” Keith said, putting his hand on Martha’s head.

“Oh, that’s me, all right,” I said, laughing. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Yeah, I totally get it. I saw that Sam Cabot on the news. He was so pitiful. I was really scared for you, Lindsay, but it’s water over the hill now. Congratulations are in order.”

I murmured my thanks for his interest and asked Keith to fill up the tank. Meanwhile, I took the squeegee from a bucket and cleaned the windshield.

“So, what’re you up to, Lindsay? Don’t you have to go back to work in the big city?”

“Not right away. You know, I’m just not ready yet. . . .”

As the words left my mouth, a red blur breezed across the intersection. The driver slowed and looked right at me before gunning the engine and tearing down Main.

I’d been in town for less than five minutes, and Dennis Agnew was back in my face.

“I left the Bonneville at my sister’s house,” I said as I observed the Porsche’s contrail. “And I have a little unfinished business here in town.”

Keith turned and saw that I was watching Agnew’s Porsche disappear down the street.

“I’ve never understood it,” he said, jacking the gas gun into my tank, shaking his head. A bell rang as the gas meter racked up the gallons. “He’s a really bad dude. I just don’t understand why women are so attracted to trouble.”

“You’re kidding me,” I said. “You think I’m interested in that guy?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Very. But not the way you mean. My interest in Dennis Agnew is purely professional.”