by Greg Miller
“You should go now,” she said, trembling. “Just go!” Tears came to her eyes as she stepped back and closed the door.
“I’m sorry,” Gavin called. “I’m so sorry.”
CHAPTER 3
Gus knelt down beside a stack of boxes. Slicing one open with a matte knife, he pulled out a few quart-size cans. “The paint for the Alfa came in,” he called.
Daryl ambled over and picked up one. “Rosso Corsa,” he read aloud from the label. “That’s red, isn’t it?”
Gus nodded. “Italian Racing Red.”
Gavin finished washing his hands in the stainless steel basin and joined them.
“You’re changing the color?” Daryl asked with a perplexed expression.
“Yes,” Gavin said.
“I thought you said cars lose value if you don’t keep them the original color?”
“That’s true.” Gavin smiled. “But this is an exception to that rule. Nobody really wants a brown Alfa Romeo. If it was, say, silver or black, I’d have left it, but painting it red will make it a lot more desirable. It’s not meant to be a show car; the buyer will only care how it looks and drives.”
Daryl nodded, then cast his eyes to the Jaguar at the back of the shop. “Why don’t you paint the Jag a different color?”
“It was Andrew’s car and he liked it,” Gavin replied. “The paint’s dull right now, but I think it’s a nice color – Sherwood Green.”
Daryl grimaced. “I think it’s an ugly color. They should have called it ‘Swamp Green.’ I’d paint it red, too.” He grinned, waiting for a reply.
Gavin seemed lost in thought. He turned to look at the Jaguar. “That’s it! That’s what’s been bothering me since I first saw it – it’s the wrong color.”
“No, it isn’t,” Gus grumbled, slicing open another box. “That’s a standard Jaguar color.”
“Not on a Series 3 it isn’t,” Gavin said. “Sherwood Green ended with the Series 2. They kept Willow Green and British Racing Green, but not Sherwood Green.”
Gus looked up from his box of parts. “Are you sure? Jaguar had half a dozen shades of green. And I can say with certainty that it hasn’t been resprayed.”
Gavin nodded. “I know my vintage Jaguars.” He walked off towards the car.
Gus followed, leaving Daryl to finish unpacking the boxes. “You also know that they did special order colors back then.”
“I know.” Gavin sighed. “And it being Sherwood Green wouldn’t make it a motive for murder. But at least I know what didn’t seem right to me now.”
On his way to lunch, Gavin stepped out of the showroom and noticed the dented white Honda parked behind his Morgan. He’d left the top down and, as he approached the car, he noticed the back of someone’s head sitting behind the wheel.
“Emily?”
She jumped in the seat, cringing. “Oh, hi. Is this your car?” she asked sheepishly, looking up through her wire-framed glasses.
Gavin nodded.
“I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind – it’s just such a cool car, and I couldn’t resist.”
“It’s okay.” He smiled. “I’m glad you like it.”
Gavin stood waiting for her to get out, but she just smiled back and studied the car’s dashboard and interior.
“Um, I was on my way to lunch. Did you want to get something with me and talk?”
“Yes, please,” she replied politely, and climbed out.
Emily wore a raggy cream sweater with wrinkled cargo pants. Even though she was tall, thin, and pretty, her clothes made her look like a poor waif.
Gavin watched sadly as she plodded around the front of the car. He dashed around the back to open the passenger side door and help her in.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at her, sitting with her hands folded on her lap and staring intently ahead.
As the engine rumbled to life and the Morgan drove away she began to smile.
They’d just beaten the lunch crowd and taken a booth by the window, but the little pizzeria was beginning to fill with noisy customers.
Sitting across from Gavin on the padded bench seat, Emily inched her way closer to the window. Squeezing herself into the corner, she shielded an ear with her hand.
Gavin gazed at her with concern. “How are you doing?”
Emily knitted her brows. “I’m doing okay,” she replied, with uncertainty in her voice.
“I’m sure it can’t be easy.”
Emily took a deep breath, turning to look out at the street. “The reason I was so upset with what you said when you came to visit me was because I didn’t really believe that Andrew’s death was an accident either.” She struggled to look at him. “You said to contact you if anyone called about Andrew’s car, right?”
Gavin’s eyes widened. “Someone called you?”
Emily nodded. “I think my brother may have been murdered because of the car. That’s what you’re thinking too, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Gavin said. “I mean, I suppose it could all just be a coincidence, but something keeps telling me that it isn’t. What did the caller say?”
“He said that he’d been trying to reach Andrew, and found my number by looking up our name. He said he wanted to make an offer for the car. When I told him Andrew had died he said he was sorry and claimed not to have known.”
“Did he give a name?”
“He said it was Al.”
“What did his voice sound like?”
“I couldn’t say. It was a really bad connection.”
Gavin lifted an eyebrow. “That’s what Andrew said too. What did you tell him?”
“I said that I could use the cash and I’d probably sell it if I got a good offer, but that he should call you because I didn’t know much about it. I gave him the number on your business card.”
“That was good thinking.” Gavin smiled. “So when he calls, I’ll get him to come in and we’ll find out who it is.”
Emily returned a faint smile.
The waitress arrived and set a small pizza down on the table. Gavin tore off a slice and slid it onto Emily’s plate.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip of her soda.
“That Saturday … Andrew called and said he had something to tell me about the car. Do you have any idea what that might have been?”
Emily nodded while chewing. “He said he’d learned that it was very special.”
Gavin was about to take a bite of pizza, but put it back on his plate instead. “Did he say why he thought it was special?”
“No. He told me that he didn’t want to say until he knew more.”
Gavin furrowed his brow. “Did he say how he found out?
Emily shook her head.
“Did you tell that detective about any of this?”
“Terrick?” Emily grimaced. “I didn’t like him, and I’m fairly certain he would have thought I was even more paranoid and crazy than he already did.”
“I didn’t like him much, either.” Gavin took a sip of water as he thought, and watched Emily fighting with a string of mozzarella.
“The problem is,” Gavin said, “that I can’t imagine how the car could be anything that special. I mean, I thought there was something different about it when I first saw it, and today I realized it’s not painted a standard color, but that’s not something that would make it any more valuable or special.”
“Hmm.” Emily sighed. “I thought for sure that you’d know and be able to tell me.”
Gavin brushed his hair to the side. “I wish I did. I’ve been racking my brain over it.”
“What sort of things would make it more valuable?”
“Not much that I can think of.” He shrugged. “I suppose if it had been a successful race car, but we can see it hasn’t ever been modified for racing. Or maybe if someone f
amous had owned it – a lot of famous people have owned Jaguar E-Types, but they were mostly the earlier models. Even then, having had a famous owner doesn’t usually mean that much. As with anything that’s collectible, cars are more valuable because of their rarity, and there doesn’t seem to be anything rare about this one, apart from the paint.”
Emily twisted her lips. “We know that someone really wants it though, we just don’t have any motive.”
“Not yet, but I have a feeling there’s something else – something other than just a different color paint.”
“And we know that Andrew thought so, too.” Emily shook her head, looking sad. “While I’m here, I wanted to go to the gorge and see where it happened, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “If you’d like me to.”
They finished their pizza, Emily took a last sip of her soda, and they left.
Gavin parked his car and they walked solemnly through the tunnel that led into the gorge, then out onto the stone arch bridge where they stopped and stood.
“I think they found his body down there, in one of the pools,” Emily said, pointing. “Detective Terrick said he must have slipped and fallen from the cliff side. But it would have been very unlike Andrew to leave the trail. He wasn’t adventurous enough to go wandering off, and all of his pictures were taken from the pathways.”
They continued on, descending the stone steps to the parapet, which followed the side of the gorge and led behind a waterfall. They passed through the ‘narrows,’ and finally arrived at the Cavern Cascade.
Gavin’s eyes followed the path ahead and the steps that led their winding way up to the Mile Point bridge, which crossed high above the gorge’s walls.
“If he came this far, Andrew could have fallen here, from that bridge.”
“Or have been pushed,” Emily said, gazing up at it too.
Gavin nodded. “It’s a long way for his body to have been carried, but last month the ice was still melting; the water would have been a lot higher and more forceful then.”
Emily took a deep breath.
“If Andrew was murdered because of the car, do you have any idea who might have done it?”
She nodded. “Someone from his club.”
“That would be my guess, too.” Gavin glanced at Emily’s face as she stared at the rushing water below. “Did you ever meet any of the club members?”
“Andrew dragged me to a few meets, but I’m not very good with meeting new people.”
They stood in silence for a moment.
Emily sniffled. She wiped away a tear and gave her head a little shake. “I thought I could feel his presence for a moment just then. It’s beautiful here, but I think I’ve seen enough.”
Gavin nodded.
“I never really got to see the car at that barn: would it be possible for me to take a look at it before I go?”
“Of course,” Gavin said.
It was mid afternoon and the sky was clouding over as they drove back. Gavin put the top up on his car before leading Emily inside. As they entered the showroom, Gus came in from the shop.
“Oh, there you are,” he said. “I was just about to call you.”
“Sorry,” Gavin replied. “I ran into Emily and we got a little sidetracked.”
“Nice to see you again.” Gus smiled. “I’m sorry about your brother.”
Emily knitted her brows, looking down.
“Anything happen while I was gone?” Gavin asked.
“No,” Gus said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Just been working on the MG.”
“How about the Alfa?”
“Still waiting on the parts.”
Gavin rolled his eyes.
Gus turned to leave, but stopped and looked back. “Oh, actually, someone called for you, but they didn’t leave a message – said they’d call back.”
Emily looked up at Gavin, her eyes opening wide.
“It’s probably nothing.” He shrugged. “It happens all the time.”
She nodded, then scanned the showroom, fixing her gaze on the old-fashioned gas pump. “This is a pretty cool place that you have here.”
“Thanks.” Gavin smiled. “I’m still trying to make a go of it. Come on, the Jag’s through here.”
She followed him down the hallway to the door that opened into the shop. Emily covered her ears as they were greeted by the loud screech of an air tool.
“Daryl!” Gavin yelled. “Can you hold off doing that?”
Daryl strained his neck around the side of the MG, checking out Emily.
Emily looked over the old sports cars and the tool cabinets on the shop floor. “This is pretty cool, too. I like it here.” She nodded.
“I’m glad.” Gavin smiled.
“You gonna introduce us?” Daryl called, standing up.
Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “Emily, this is Daryl. He works here … on a trial basis.”
“Yeah, right. Good one!” Daryl laughed, starting to walk over.
“The car’s right over here,” Gavin said, hastily guiding her away.
“It really is beautiful,” she said, seeing the Jaguar in the back corner. “Andrew showed me some pictures, but they didn’t do it justice.” She circled around, admiring it, then bent down to look through the driver’s side window.
Gavin bit his lip, watching her.
“I should probably go and let you to get back to work,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “You’ll let me know if Al calls?”
“Yes, of course.” Gavin smiled.
“Oh,” Emily said, “and thanks again for lunch.”
It was the following day. The MG was up on the lift, Gavin standing beneath it, sparks flying from the squealing grinder in his hand.
Daryl came up from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.
Gavin let go of the trigger and turned to look at him through a pair of safety goggles.
“Telephone.”
“Who is it?”
“Take a wild guess,” Daryl said. “Want me to tell her you’re busy?”
Gavin shook his head. “I’ll take it in the office.”
He set the grinder down on the floor, removed his goggles, and dusted off his blue coveralls.
Taking a seat behind the desk he picked up the phone. “Hi, Emily … Not yet, no … Yes, I know, but you can’t do things just based on a feeling … I don’t know either.” He took a deep breath. “I was trying to get an old exhaust system off the MG … Alright, but I really need to finish this so I won’t get to the phone for a while.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t know when, probably not until closing … Yes … Yes, I promise … Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
Gavin put his head in his hands, chuckling to himself, before going back out to the shop.
“Boy, that chick sure has the hots for you.” Daryl grinned.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Gavin scoffed.
Gus gave him a half smile.
“I think it’s an Asperger’s thing.” Gavin shrugged. “They obsess about stuff.”
“Yeah, and it’s your ‘stuff’ she’s obsessed with,” Daryl quipped. “I give her half an hour before she calls back again.”
“Look,” Gavin said. “She lost her brother and just needs a little support. Would you two give me a break?”
“Don’t look at me.” Gus laughed. “I didn’t say anything.”
The phone rang again.
“I guess I was a little too optimistic.” Daryl smirked.
Gavin ran his fingers through his hair as he strode over to the workbench and picked up the cordless phone.
“Hello … Speaking. And you are? Hi, Al. As a matter of fact I have got one, yes, although it’s not for sale right now. I believe the owner may be selling it in the near future … There’s no engine, and
it’s in pretty rough shape. I’m having a little trouble hearing you, are you losing service? I’d suggest you come in and take a look, then I’ll be able to present any offers to the owner … Yeah, I’m really sorry, but I can’t do things that way. I prefer to know who I’m dealing with … Thursday morning is good … I’ll see you then.”
Gavin put down the phone. He leaned back against the bench, staring off into space for a few seconds, then went back to the office to call Emily.
CHAPTER 4
Gavin strode through the shop’s doorway wearing a Speed Racer cartoon tie with his black blazer and jeans, and joined Gus beside the work bench.
“That’s interesting.” Gus grinned, leaning forward to take a closer look at it.
“Um, yeah, it was a gift,” Gavin said, flashing a somewhat embarrassed smile. “Daryl’s off today, right?”
“Yup.”
“So, when this guy shows up we’ll treat him normally, just like any other buyer.”
Gus frowned, pouring coffee into his mug from a thermos bottle.
“And while I’m in here with him, you’ll go out and get a picture of his license plate.”
“Right.” He grumbled,taking a sip from his mug.
Gavin glanced at the Jaguar which had been moved forward for better viewing, then scanned the other cars on the shop floor. “You’re back working on the Alfa?”
Gus nodded. “Parts came in yesterday.”
“Alright. I’ll go catch up on some paperwork while we wait for –”
The loud musical blast of Italian air horns sounded, alerting them to the fact that someone had opened the showroom door.
Gavin looked up at the clock. “He must be early.”
Gavin left the shop and, just as he rounded the corner to the showroom, nearly walked head on into Emily who was racing toward him. He grabbed her shoulders to stop her forehead from crashing into his nose.
“Emily! Why are you here? I thought we’d agreed that you’d wait for me to call.”
“Yes, I know,” she said breathlessly, “but my curiosity got the best of me. I’ll just hide when he gets here. Alright?”