blow his cover were slim. Maybe an evening out would convince her she wasn’t the right person for the job of finding Felicia. Better she learn with him there to watch over her hide than stir up a bonfire of trouble on her own.
And if the gods were smiling on him, she’d pack up and leave in the morning. He shook his head. “Yeah, right.”
Before he headed back in, he took a detour to the warehouse. Felicia’s Vulcan was still up on its blocks. He tossed off the protective tarp. The red paint gleamed under the fluorescent lights. Clean. Too clean. He checked the tires and found soft earth caught in the treads. Fresh. Why had she taken the bike out and washed it before putting it back on its blocks as if it had been there all winter?
Or maybe someone had done it for her.
He let the tarp fall back into place and headed to the industrial shelving for a case of motor oil to take back to the shop. All around him metal shelves groaned with new and used car and motorcycle parts ready for sale.
How hard was it for someone who owned and operated a garage stocked with used parts to make a car disappear?
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