by Greg Miller
“Detective Terrick’s an imbecile.” Emily snorted. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re the person most likely to have it, or to at least know who does.”
“But I don’t,” Peter said, opening his palms. “Let’s try using some logic here. If I did have the engine and wanted to get my hands on the car, why would I tell Andrew anything? Or show him that brochure? I’d have gladly given him the engine just for the chance to play a part in the discovery.”
Gavin ran his fingers through his hair. “If you’d truly like to help, would you mind showing us your garage?”
“Is that really necessary?” Peter frowned.
“If you want us to trust you, and are serious about wanting to help, then yes.”
He looked away, thinking for a moment. “Oh, alright. Let me prove it to you.” Peter got up from behind his desk.
Gavin and Emily followed him through the kitchen and out to his garage. Peter switched on the lights as they went inside.
The chrome and deeply waxed lacquer on the collection of Jaguars gleamed beneath the track lighting. There was a large Jaguar banner hanging on the back wall, and a workshop area with tool chests, but there was no engine to be seen.
“You have a very nice collection,” Gavin said. “I particularly like the Mark IV.”
Peter flashed a smile, then went from car to car, opening their hoods.
“I assure you they’re all original,” he said, as Gavin bent down to check the numbers on a primrose E-Type.
Emily crossed her arms, watching. It didn’t take long for Gavin to check all five of the cars.
“Trust me now?” Peter asked, as Gavin turned from the Mark 2 sedan at the end of the row.
Emily cleared her throat. “What’s in that shed of yours out back?”
Peter groaned, shaking his head. “Come with me.”
They followed him across the backyard to a small outbuilding.
Peter opened the door revealing only some lawn and gardening equipment. “Satisfied?”
“Thanks,” Gavin said. “I think so.”
Peter adjusted the collar of his cardigan. “Now, since I’ve shown you all of my Jaguars, as well as my original, matching numbers lawn tractor, would you allow me to stop by your shop sometime and see the Series 3?”
Gavin looked at Emily. She shrugged.
“Yes. Of course.” Gavin said. He took out his wallet and gave him a business card.
Peter nodded, looking at it. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“That would be extremely helpful,” Gavin said. He shook Peter’s hand. “We’ll leave you in peace then.”
Emily shivered in the cool night air. They left, making their way around the side of the house in the growing darkness.
“Do you believe him?” Emily asked, getting into the Morgan.
Gavin bit his lip, reaching for the ignition. “He’s the only person who could possibly know so much about it all, so I can’t help but think he must have told someone about it. Maybe he’ll remember something.”
“He could still have it hidden somewhere.” Emily said. “Or, maybe he’s protecting someone.”
“Maybe.”
“So what now? We seem to be at a dead end.”
Gavin shrugged. “We may just have to wait and see what Al’s next move is.”
CHAPTER 7
The caustic smell of urethane paint filled the shop as Daryl pushed the newly-red Alfa Spider out of the spray room. Gus walked alongside, turning the steering wheel to guide it into a brightly lit area in the middle of the floor.
Gavin bent down, looking across the hood. He circled the car, giving it a critical eye.
Daryl cracked his knuckles, watching. “So, what do yuh think?”
“Not bad. No, it’s really quite good.” Gavin opened the passenger side door.
“Yeah?” Daryl sighed. “There’s a drip there, but I’ll try to wet sand it out.”
“It’s fine. Leave it,” Gavin said. “I’ve seen original Alfa’s from the factory with drips in the same place. It looks great. I’m impressed.”
“Thanks.” Daryl smiled.
“Okay, let’s start refitting the trim. I’d like to have it ready to sell by the weekend.”
Daryl nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll get the stuff.”
“I guess I’ll get back to work on the MG.” Gus coughed.
“That’s probably a good idea,” Gavin said. “We’d just get in each other’s way here.”
Daryl soon returned carrying a cardboard box under one arm, dragging another larger box behind him. Kneeling down on the floor, he started unwrapping the re-chromed trim pieces.
Gavin tore open a plastic bag and laid out the new carpet set.
“So what’s the story with you and that Emily chick?” Daryl asked, looking up.
“What do you mean?” Gavin frowned.
“You know, I think she’s pretty hot in a geeky kind of way. I bet she’s really wild in bed.”
Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh, lighten up.” Daryl grinned. “I know she spent the night with you.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Right. I believe that.” He smirked.
“It’s the truth,” Gavin said. “And why would I tell you about it even if something had happened? Don’t you have a life of your own?”
“Yeah, I do actually. Thanks for finally asking about it.”
Gavin rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. I don’t have to ask, you tell me all about it anyway.”
“Oh, yeah?” Daryl said. “If that’s true, then what’s my girlfriend’s name?”
Gavin looked down at the floor. “It’s um. Oh, what is it? Oh, it’s Meghan. That’s it, right?
“No,” Daryl said with hurt, drooping eyes. “I broke up with her last year. I’ve been seeing someone else for the last six months.”
Gavin tipped his head. “Have you? Look, I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I’m a private person, and I try to respect other people’s privacy too.”
“You know what that is? That’s just a fancy way of saying you don’t give a shit.”
“Aww,” Gavin said with a wry smile. “You know that’s not true. I care about you very much. We’re a family.” He opened his arms. “Daryl, come here. Do you need a hug?”
“No way,” he whined, leaning away and looking at Gavin as if he was crazy. “Now you’re creeping me out. Please just go back to being your usual, cold self. I like you better that way.”
“Cold?”
“Yeah, cold. Sarcastic, too.”
Gavin looked away. “I don’t think I’m cold – reserved, maybe.”
“Right, whatever. Let’s get back to Emily.”
“No,” Gavin said. “Let’s not.”
“You care about her. I can tell.” Daryl smiled.
“Yeah, whatever,” Gavin said, standing up. “I’m going to see if Gus needs a hand. And while I’m gone, could you please reattach that grill you’ve been fiddling with.”
Daryl nodded. “Sure thing, Boss. But I’ll just say this – if nothing has happened yet, I bet it won’t be long before she puts the moves on you.”
Gavin shook his head, and went over to the corner of the shop where Gus was jiggling the MG’s fender and feeling for hidden screws.
“Christ, that kid can be annoying. I don’t know how you put up with him all day.”
“He cares about you,” Gus said, not bothering to turn around.
Gavin rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. “Not you, too. Is there a full moon or something? All he cares about is whether I slept with Emily.”
“He’s still young. Talking to you like one of his buddies is just the way he expresses it.”
Gavin grimaced. “I’m not one of his buddies. I don’t want to be one o
f his buddies.”
Gus gave the fender a shake. “He looks up to you. He thinks you’re cool and sophisticated. Don’t ask me why.”
“Oh, great.” Gavin chuckled. “You’re trying to guilt trip me. So what, I’m supposed to love him like the obnoxious little brother I never had?”
“I didn’t say that,” Gus growled. “I just want you to take it easy on him, and know that he cares.”
Gavin exhaled a long breath, sitting down on Gus’s tool chest. “Alright, out with it.”
Gus let go of the fender and turned around. “Out with what?”
“I’m not an idiot. I know this is your devious, roundabout way of saying that you care. What is it you want to talk about?”
Gus flashed half a smile, then his expression became serious. “Alright, since you asked … I don’t know what you and Emily have been up to, but I know you’ve been up to something, and I don’t like being kept in the dark.”
“What do you mean?”
Gus lifted his chin.
“Oh, alright,” Gavin said. “We talked with someone from Andrew’s club but didn’t really get anywhere. We seem to be at a dead end.”
“I still don’t know if I really believe someone murdered Andrew over that Jag. But, I do believe there are some cars that only bring bad luck. I hope you’ll tell her to get rid of it now.”
Gavin looked away.
“It’s a distraction,” Gus said. “You’re trying to build a business here, to do what you love. That’s why I agreed to come work for you – I saw you were honest, and had a genuine love for these old cars.”
Gavin hung his head down. “Gus, you know you’re my best friend.”
“Good,” he said. “Then try to understand this – when you go looking for answers in dark places, you’re bound to get dark results. It has to do with the law of karma.”
“Karma?” Gavin laughed. “What is this? Zen and the art of automotive maintenance?”
Gus narrowed one eye. “You can scoff all you want, but I know what I’m talking about. And you aren’t doing right by her either, you know. You should be helping her to get over Andrew’s death, to move on, and you’re not – you’re making things worse.”
“I don’t think so,” Gavin said. “She wants to know what really happened. Learning who wants the car is the only way to find out.”
Gus shook his head, looking down. “I don’t think either of you know what you really want. Look, I think she’s a nice girl who’s been through a lot, and if you’d let your guard down a little, I think you could really help her. And, believe it or not, I think she could really help you.
“Help me?” Gavin furrowed his brow. “With what?”
Gus looked away.
“Help me with what?” he asked again.
“That’s it,” Gus said, turning back to the MG’s fender. “I’m done with the lecture. Go check on Daryl and let me get back to work. Just think about what I said.”
Emily tromped through the showroom wearing jeans and a ‘Phantogram’ sweatshirt.
“Hi. Come on in.” Gavin smiled from behind his desk.
She plopped down on the couch. “I was glad to hear from you,” she said. “I was afraid you’d forgotten about me and given up on the investigation.”
Gavin chuckled. “It’s only been a few days.”
Emily looked down with pouty lips.
“I’m sorry. We’ve been very busy here, and I’ve been thinking about it.”
“Me too,” she said. “Have you come up with anything?”
Gavin leaned back in his chair. “I’ve had this nagging thought since we left Peter’s house – what if he’s telling the truth? What if he really didn’t tell anyone else about the car?”
“I think it’s a lot more likely that Peter’s lying.”
“Yes, I know,” Gavin said. “But Andrew said he’d only shown the pictures to the guys in the club. So why couldn’t it be another club member?”
She sat forward. “That crossed my mind, too. But how likely is it for Andrew to find the car, for Peter to identify it, and then for someone else in the club to just happen to have the engine?”
Gavin ran his fingers through his hair. “It doesn’t sound very likely when you frame it like that. But the car was found nearby and it seems reasonable to suppose that the engine is still in the area, too. There’s a good chance that a Jaguar enthusiast has it, and enthusiasts tend to join clubs. So maybe it isn’t that unlikely, after all.”
Emily tipped her head. “I still think Peter’s lying, but I suppose it’s a possibility.”
Gavin turned to the computer.
“What are you doing?
“I’m joining the club.”
“Really?”
Gavin nodded. “I saw they’re hosting this British Car Day in a few weeks, and I’ve decided to go.”
Emily smiled. “I’ll come with you.”
Gavin stopped typing. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”
“Why?”
“I want to be inconspicuous. You said Andrew took you to a few meets, so they’d probably recognize you.”
“Hm. I didn’t talk to anyone, but I suppose you’re right.”
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to draw attention or let anyone know what I’m doing there.”
“Hey,” she exclaimed. “I can change the way I look.”
Gavin looked at her with skepticism.
“Seriously. I’ll wear my contact lenses, change my hair. I bet that even you won’t recognize me.”
Gavin made a pained face.
“When some dork dragged me to the senior prom, no one knew who the hell I was. They all thought I was from another school or something. It’ll work.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re not going without me.”
“Alright,” Gavin said. “We’ll have to go in a Jag, so I have two weeks to find a car.”
“Well that shouldn’t be very hard for you. I have no idea what I’m going to wear. It should probably be something that’s as unlike me as possible.” She nodded to herself.
Gavin leaned back in his chair again. “And you should use a different name, too.”
“Oh, right,” she said. “What about Gwen? I never liked ‘Emily,’ and always wanted to be a ‘Gwendolyn.’ It’s derived from Guinevere, like in King Arthur, you know?”
Gavin smiled. “I think that’ll work.”
A nearly-new, gun metal gray Jaguar sports car glided to a stop in front of Emily’s house. Gavin climbed out, and gave an admiring backward glance at the car as he proceeded up the sidewalk. He raised his hand, but before he could knock, the door swung open.
“Wow,” he blurted, taking a step back.
Emily stepped out wearing a prim white blouse with a long, high-waisted khaki skirt, holding a floppy straw hat by its brim. She had shorter hair which was more blonde than brown, and it was the first time Gavin had seen her with lipstick.
“Emily, it’s incredible! I have to admit I wasn’t convinced, but if I saw you on the street, I honestly don’t think I’d have recognized you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Are you being serious?”
“Yes. You look gorgeous.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Knock it off.”
“What?” Gavin frowned.
“You’re getting all smarmy.”
“Getting all what?”
“You’re giving me flashbacks to the senior prom. This isn’t me. I hate it. So just stop it.”
“Oh, okay.” Gavin nodded, looking at his watch. “Well, we have a long drive so we should probably get going.”
Emily reached into the doorway and grabbed her purse. She pulled the door shut, twisting the knob a few times to make sure it was locked.
He eyed the back of her, up and down.
Turning ar
ound, she pointed a finger at him. “I said knock it off.”
Gavin kept his eyes on the car as they walked down the sidewalk.
“So this is the new Jag,” she said, as they approached the street.
Gavin smiled. “Do you like it?”
“Nope.”
“No? I think it’s beautiful. It’s the first real successor to the E-Type.”
She stepped back, wrinkling her nose. “I’m glad you’re happy with it.”
“What don’t you like about it?”
“Too flashy. It looks like you’re compensating for something.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gavin frowned.
She shrugged. “When I think of you, I think of the Morgan – this isn’t you.”
He opened the door for her. “I like the Morgan a lot, too, but this is a great car.” He went around to the other side. “It’s certainly more comfortable,” he continued, getting behind the wheel. “And I think it’ll be a lot better for long trips.”
She wrinkled her nose again. “Are you practicing your sales skills on me?”
“No.” Gavin laughed. “But don’t you at least like the interior?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
Emily looked around. “It doesn’t have a wood dashboard. I like the wood dashboard in the Morgan.”
Gavin reached for the ignition button and started the car. “I really love the way it sounds,” he said, revving the engine a little.
She crossed her arms. “Don’t try to make me like it. I’m never going to like it.”
He shook his head, chuckling.
It was a Sunday morning and there was very little traffic as they drove through downtown Ithaca. Through the windshield, Emily noticed a few college students admiring the car while they were stopped at a traffic light. As the light turned green and Gavin accelerated, she uncrossed her arms and sighed. “So what options are available? Could I get this with a wood dashboard if I wanted one?”
Gavin glanced over at her. “I don’t think so.”
Emily stared at him. “You mean you don’t know for sure? Well, I’m definitely not going to buy it from you now.” She snorted. “I’ll go to the dealer up the road who knows the answers to my questions.”