Nigh - Book 1

by Marie Bilodeau

  ***

   

  Alva squinted at the flickering road. Well, the road didn’t flicker, but the street lamps certainly did. It was like all the lamps in town were on the fritz. The overcast night seemed intent on inducing seizures.

  She turned off Main Street, by far the most direct route to work, and decided to take the smaller streets instead. At least they didn’t have street lamps, and the lack of flickering would spare her head.

  She slowed down, to avoid being too noisy. Her orange 1970 Mercury Cougar had been a pet project of hers with her dad, when she’d been a teenager. She loved the feel of the steering wheel in her hands and the pull it still had. Much more satisfying than modern cars. She smiled and ran her finger on the faux-wood dash.

  Her dad shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d become an auto mechanic. Restoring this beast with him encapsulated some of her fondest memories. She maintained it herself and it wasn’t about to fail any emissions test, but it could get a bit loud, and she didn’t want to start waking up children at four in the morning. In a small town like Lindsay, they’d probably all know it was her, too.

  “Woa, Percival,” she said absent-mindedly as she eased off the gas. Her old, venerable car had earned its name long ago. After they’d restored it and took it for a spin, a much larger car had sideswiped them, right on the passenger side, where Alva was sitting. The already old beast had taken the hit like a knight of old, her dad had said, saving Alva from injury. The car had earned its name then, and had kept it since.

  Percival hadn’t had to prove himself again, but Alva still felt more secure in the old metal beast than in any new car with complicated electronics that made her want to pull her own hair out every time a new manual came out. Which was all the time.

  “And why can’t every dealer just use the same damn systems?” She exclaimed out loud.

  A shadow ran across the road. She slammed on the brakes. She couldn’t tell if she’d hit it.

  She unfastened her seat belt and opened the door, dreading what she might find. A cat, or a small dog maybe. It wasn’t much bigger than that. It had moved too fast for a raccoon, and the air wasn’t pungent from a skunk.

  She reached over to her glove compartment and pulled out a flashlight.

  The street was dark save for Percival’s lights, and quiet, save for the rumbling of her old motor. If she had hit the animal and it had stumbled away, she’d need to hear it. She turned off the motor before stepping out, but kept her lights on. Percival’s battery was good and wouldn’t let her down.

  Fall coated the crisp night. Alva could already smell winter on it, felt its cool tendrils pierce her light leather jacket. She ignored the chill and crouched beside her car. There wasn’t anything under it. She aimed the flashlight on the road toward where the animal had run, and there was no blood or sign of something having ever even been there.

  A nearby bush rustled and she aimed her flashlight at it. She thought she spotted eyes, but they flashed away as quickly as they’d appeared. She shrugged and got back in her car. Not having to tell a family she’d run over their beloved pet was definitely her preference.

  A few minutes later she pulled into the shop. She parked in the back, the night still thick. The only sound that reached her ears was that of her boots on the gravel lot.

  Inside the shop, however, a familiar sound greeted her. Snoring. She sighed and tried to be as quiet as possible as she turned on her bench light and pulled out the test watch. She’d mapped most of it and hoped she understood how it worked. But every gear had to be perfectly aligned or it wouldn’t keep time right. She decided she’d completely take it apart and rebuild it. Only then could she be confident she wouldn’t destroy her own. Just the thought of the robber almost finding it last night re-motivated her to fix the watch and keep it safe.

  The watch was the only thing that pointed to a past before her; her only connection to a family she never knew. And her father had always wanted to see it keep time again. In a way, it was keeping his legacy alive. Her hands would handle the same small pieces his had handled. Where Pete had inherited his love of words and literature, Al had his finesse with machines. And his love of them. This was his legacy to her, and she intended to carry it through.

  Besides, she loved the challenge.

  She placed every small gear and piece in a box lid, lining them up in order of removal. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t even realize Gruff was up until the smell of coffee filled the shop. She stretched her back and groaned. It was still early, so she left everything out and went off to hunt coffee.

  She headed to the back, to what could pass as a small staff kitchen. It was tiny, with a small table and two chairs squeezed onto a small fridge, coffee pot on top, but it was functional and clean. Like the rest of Gruff’s shop. Gruff sat at the table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Alva sat on the other chair, grabbing the sports section. A useless section until hockey started, but with less than two weeks to go before that happened, the trades and line-up speculations were entertaining enough.

  “Up early,” Gruff said, more than asked. The fridge shook as it kicked in and buzzed, making the space seem ever smaller.

  “Yup. Someone broke into my place last night,” she said off-handedly. Gruff lowered the paper.

  “What?”

  “They didn’t take anything. Suppose there wasn’t much to take. Well, nothing that they could have easily found, anyway.”

  “Al, you should have called me. I’d have helped.”

  Alva laughed. “With what? Clean up? They were long gone by the time I got home, Gruff.”

  “I would have helped with clean up. At least I’d make sure you were all right. What if the creeps came back?”

  “I can take care of myself, Gruff. Aren’t you the one who always tells me that I’m a woman, not a maiden, so not to get any distress ideas in mind?”

  He chuckled a bit, but still looked somber when he spoke. “I know, and I know you don’t need me to come protect you. But you’re family, Al. Family should lean on each other during hard times.”

  Al nodded slowly and hesitated. Gruff spoke a good game, but he certainly hadn’t leaned on her since his marriage had started unraveling. An empty nest had proved too quiet for the older couple. With the children long gone, the silence had only highlighted their lack of common interests. She’d found him sleeping in the shop quite a few times.

  As if sensing her hesitation to ask him about it, Gruff folded the paper and slowly stood up. “Well, we have less than an hour before the shop opens. I’ll go work on the inventory. You gonna play some more with that watch?”

  “You mean study? Break apart and rebuild? Figure out all of its deeply buried secrets?”

  He snorted and passed by her. “You’re gonna play with the watch, then.”

  Alva grinned and headed to her workbench. She turned the small lamp back on and reached for her grandmother’s watch in her pocket. She ran her fingers over it, wishing she could better feel the detail through the calluses on her fingers.

  She looked down at the gears she’d perfectly aligned. Her eyes grew wide and she mumbled a perfect string of swears.

  The thing was a mess. Parts were everywhere. Maybe the rat was back and had tried to get into her box, making a mess of the fine parts.

  She took a deep breath and reined in her urge to stomp the ground in case the rat was somewhere near. The little bastard would meet its end this weekend at the hands of the exterminator. In the meantime, she had work to do. No better way to learn, she supposed. If she could figure this mess out, no watch would be a match for her from now on.

  Grabbing a small gear with the bandage proved a challenge, so she pulled it off. The wound looked angry and red. It didn’t hurt, at least, but the last thing she needed was some vermin infection. Gruff would send her to the emergency if she told him, so she threw some more peroxide on it and applied a new bandage. She’d go to the clinic later to if it still ne
eded it. No point in waiting in a hospital emergency room to be stuck with a bunch of sick people.

  Nothing some more peroxide and alcohol couldn’t handle. She hoped.

  Since she didn’t dare take off the bandage again, she used the tweezers to help her move the small parts, her mouth parted in concentration. Then, as the minutes passed, her mouth was parted by hisses. And finally by swear words.

  “How the bloody blazes do people work with such small parts?” She desperately wanted to turn back and fix a car, any car. She’d personally take care of a basic oil change just to deal with something she understood.

  She stood up and stretched, knowing it was just fatigue and the growing throb in her finger that were making her impatient. She could figure this out – it was watch building, not rocket science.

  She sighed. It was already six, and time to get started with her actual day.

  She carefully closed the box and placed it in her bench. Gruff had made it clear it was hers, for her tools, some of which he’d helped her modify. There weren’t many female mechanics, especially in her neck of the woods, and sometimes she just needed a longer wrench.

  She yawned and headed to the kitchen to get more coffee as she planned her day. Pete was supposed to be back from her trip this morning, so she’d need to pick her up at some point. Wouldn’t serve anyone any good for Al to curl up with the rats under her workbench.

  Armed with a mug of Gruff’s thick as oil coffee, she headed back to her workbench, grimacing as the thick liquid coated her throat. She yawned again, surprised she wasn’t about to swallow her own head, when she saw someone leaning over her bench.

  It took her a moment to realize it wasn’t Gruff – frame too slight, long dark trench coat, dark brown hair. It took her another moment before she found her voice.

  “Hey!” She screamed, startling the man. He reacted almost immediately, grabbing her box and slipping out the propped-open door. Alva dropped the coffee, swung by the wall and grabbed Big Bertha with barely a pause, and took off after him.

  “Al?” She heard Gruff shout as she leapt out of the shop. No one seemed to have crossed the road to the cemetery right in front of the shop. She ran to the right and around, but there wasn’t a trace of the intruder. She slowed down and looked under the cars parked in the back. The morning was growing thick with fog, and the surrounding misty woods could hide any number of watch thieves.

  “What’s going on, Al?” Gruff asked, panting as he joined her. His face was completely red and Alva feared he might just keel over. She clutched her wrench but tried to calm herself, for Gruff’s sake.

  “Some jackass in a trench coat just stole my watch!” She didn’t sound nearly as calm as she’d been hoping for.

  “Who the hell… ?” Gruff stormed back to the door. Alva glanced one more time at the surroundings. A few cars were lining the parking lot, and a fence to the right lead to a backyard. The woods to her left were quiet, and the whole morning smelled of burnt wood and something sweet, like baking cookies.

  She turned to find Gruff. “If I find his skinny little ass, I’m breaking him in two with Big Bertha.”

  “I hope so. How did he get in? Did you leave the door unlocked?”

  Alva was sure she’d locked it. It was such a force of habit by now. Customers loved expecting service, regardless of whether they were actually open. She certainly tried to avoid indulging them in that.

  “You know I didn’t.”

  “I know,” he said simply. “Didn’t you say your house was broken into last night?”

  Alva hand grew numb even as she clutched Big Bertha more tightly. “Yup. By a ‘gentleman caller,’ or so Mrs. Gallaway called him.”

  Gruff walked into the shop. “I’m calling the cops. This guy is stalking you, Al. That ain’t good in my books.”

  She sighed and followed him in. “That ain’t good in anyone’s book, Gruff. But what are the cops going to do?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll let them tell us, how’s that?” He walked to the phone, leaving no room for debate.

  “How about after work, Gruff?” Alva tried her luck. “We have a full slate this morning. And besides, Pete’s back today. I’ll have to pick her up. Can’t exactly tell her I’m busy with the cops.”

  He looked frustrated and placed the phone back down. “All right, fine. I guess I can keep an eye on you here, anyway. But I’m walking you to the cops myself after work, and I’m going with you to pick up Pete. No arguing! Understood? ”

  Al nodded, knowing the look in Gruff’s eyes well enough to know that was as much leeway as she was getting. The whole thing just sounded like stupid hassle. The thief probably had what he’d wanted, so he wouldn’t even bother her anymore.

  “Good,” Gruff nodded, acknowledging her own nod. “You get the shop going – almost time to open.”

  Al turned to clean the rest of her workbench. Her hands were shaking a bit still from anger. She wished she could go and punch something, preferably that jackass’ face.

  Molly came running in, juggling her purse, lunch bag and a gym bag, even though she never went to the gym as far as Al knew. Molly shot her a grin as she tripped on her own dangling scarf and dropped everything. At least she managed to catch herself on the front desk.

  “It’s going to be an awesome day,” she said, picking up her stuff and throwing it behind the desk. “You okay?” Molly asked when she looked at Al’s stern face. Molly couldn’t be much more different than Al, but they’d found a comfortable friendship in their differences. Molly had been a blessing with Pete, too, her bright personality helping to bridge the gap between the two sisters.

  “Some idiot just broke in and stole that watch I was ripping up,” Al said. Molly knew everything about the watch. Heck, Molly pretty much knew everything about Al.

  Molly’s green eyes grew wider than usual. “Oh no! Did you get him? Did you call the cops? The Avengers? Shit, did you introduce him to Big Bertha?”

  Al couldn’t help but laugh. Molly could work her down in two seconds flat. “Thor was busy, but Iron Man might show up later.”

  Molly nodded, her shoulder length tousled blonde hair bouncing up and down. “And there’s no blood on Big Bertha, so I’m assuming we’re not digging a hole out back just yet. Let me know when, though. I’m awesome with a shovel.”

  “Let’s hope we get that chance soon,” Al mumbled. The rest of the crew came from the back rooms, exchanging greetings and yawns.

  “It’s gonna be busy today,” Steve, the floor manager, said. “Everyone just remembered that fall is followed by winter, and maybe winter tires are a good idea.” He winked at Al and Molly. He was forty-something, kept his hair just a bit long to annoy Gruff, and had an easy laugh. Jack, Carl and Louise were setting up their tools, and it looked like everyone was ready to go.

  “Showtime,” Al said. Molly gave her a thumbs up as she booted the computer. She turned on the light, both garage doors rolled up and the first customers rolled in.

  The phone began ringing almost immediately, Molly perching it on her shoulder as she helped a customer at the desk at the same time. The second line lit up and the third.

  “We’ve got three calls for towings already,” Molly called from the desk, the phone still in her hands, all three lines lit up like a disco ball. “And I’m guessing everyone on hold is asking for the same. Fog and black ice. A mechanic’s magic payday.”

  Al grinned at Molly, but her friend was already back on the line. She was taking down another address when the line went dead.

  “Shit. That was another one. The phones are down!”

  “Someone might have hit a pole,” Steve said as he walked up to Gruff. “I need all hands on deck. We’re getting reamed this morning.”

  Gruff nodded. “You handle the team here, I’ll take Al and we’ll fix as many cars as we can find. We’ll bring Percival and Molly with us. Redirect the lines to Molly’s cell when they’re back up. She can handle it from there while making sure w
e get paid for outside work.”

  “Sounds good,” Steve said, already walking away and grabbing clipboards.

  “Internet is down too,” Molly called out from the desk. “This is going to be a super awesome day. I told you.”

  “Grab your coat, Molly. And whatever we need to take payments on the go. Al, get Percival and let’s head off.”

  Gruff headed to the back to grab his own coat. Molly grinned at Al. “Road trip!” She threw on her coat and grabbed a handful of slips for credit card payments.

  Al looked outside. The mists were getting much thicker. Not rare for this time of year, but rare for this part of town. The cemetery facing the shop was almost completely covered, only a few tombstones and angels glancing through the shifting mists. Al stared for a moment, imagining every shadow as the watch thief. She grabbed Big Bertha and her tool belt.

  If the day was kind enough, it would give her the chance to smack him good.