Shadow Dance (Buchanan-Renard #6)

Shadow Dance (Buchanan-Renard #6) Page 7
  • Prev Chapter
  • Background
    Font family
    Font size
    Line hieght
    Full frame
    No line breaks
  • Next Chapter

Shadow Dance (Buchanan-Renard #6) Page 7

All conversation ceased as soon as dinner arrived. Jordan couldn’t believe the huge hunk of nearly raw meat that was placed in front of the professor. Next to it was a giant baked potato fully loaded. Her little chicken dish looked like a child’s portion in comparison. The professor’s head went down, and he didn’t come up for air again until he had devoured every bite. There wasn’t a piece of gristle or fat left on his plate.

“Would you like more bread?” she asked calmly.

In answer he shoved the bread basket at her. She was able to get the waitress’s attention and politely requested more. From the waitress’s wary expression, Jordan assumed she’d witnessed the argument, and she smiled to assure the woman that all was well.

“You have a great passion for your work,” Jordan complimented. She decided that if she didn’t start humoring him, he might leave without letting her see his research, and the trip would be completely wasted.

“And you admire my dedication,” he answered and then launched into another tale about the dastardly Buchanans. He stopped long enough to order dessert, and by the time it arrived, he’d worked his way back to the fourteenth century.

Everything in Texas was big, including food. She stared at the top of the professor’s head as he devoted himself to inhaling every bite of the huge wedge of apple pie with two scoops of vanilla ice cream.

A waiter dropped a glass. The professor looked around and noticed how crowded the room was becoming. He seemed to shrivel up in the booth as he kept a close eye on who was coming and going.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t like crowds.”

He took a sip of his coffee and said, “I’ve stored some data on a flash drive. It’s in one of the boxes for Isabel. Do you know what a flash drive is?”

Before she could answer, he said, “All Isabel has to do is slip the flash drive into her computer. It’s like a disk, and it can store volumes of data.”

His condescending tone irritated her to no end. “I’ll make sure she gets it,” she said.

He told her the price of the flash drive and said, “I assume you or Miss MacKenna will reimburse me.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Now?” He pulled a receipt from his pocket and stared expectantly at her, obviously wanting payment right this minute, and so she got the money from her billfold and handed it to him. He wasn’t the trusting sort. He counted the money before tucking it into his wallet.

“As to my research…I have three large boxes. I’ve spoken at length with Isabel, and against my better judgment I have decided to let you take them to make photocopies for her. She has assured me that she takes full responsibility, and so I will rely on her integrity as a MacKenna. I’ll know if anything is missing. I have a photographic memory. Once I’ve read something, it stays with me.” He paused to tap his forehead. “I remember names and faces of people I met ten, twenty years ago. It’s stored up here. The important and the unimportant.”

“How long do I have to make the copies?” she asked, wanting to move the conversation along.

“I’ve been so busy getting ready for my trip. I’m leaving sooner than I originally planned. You’ll have to stay in Serenity and make your copies here. It shouldn’t take you more than two days at the most. Maybe three,” he allowed.

“Is there a print shop in town with copy machines?”

“I don’t believe so,” he replied. “But there’s a machine at the grocery store, and I’m sure there are others around town.”

After two more cups of coffee, he requested the bill. As the time for their parting grew closer, every minute seemed to drag. When the check came, he pushed it toward her. At this point she wasn’t surprised.

Her brother Zachary had always been able to gross her out. He was much better at it than any of her other brothers, but tonight the professor had usurped his title as the king of gross. Professor MacKenna wiped his mouth with his napkin, which had lain folded on the table throughout the meal, and scooted out of the booth.

“I want to get home before it gets dark.”

It wouldn’t be dark for at least another hour. “Do you live far from here?”

“No,” he answered. “I’ll meet you at the car and transfer the boxes. You’ll take good care of them? Isabel spoke highly of you, and I’m trusting her.”

“I’ll take good care of them,” she promised.

Ten minutes later the bill had been paid, the boxes had been transferred to her car, and Jordan was, for the time being, rid of the professor.

She felt liberated.

Chapter Eight

JORDAN WAS UP BRIGHT AND EARLY THE FOLLOWING MORNING. She drove the car over to Lloyd’s Garage and was parked and waiting for him to open his doors.

She hoped to get the car patched up, then drive to the grocery store she was told had a copy machine. If all went well, she could get one box finished and maybe half of another. Two of the boxes were filled to the top, and, fortunately, the professor hadn’t written on both sides of the paper because the pen he’d used on some of them had bled through.

The garage doors opened ten minutes after eight. After popping the hood and looking at the engine for about thirty seconds, the mechanic, a brute of a man about her age, leaned against the fender, crossed one ankle over the other, and gave her a slow and definitely creepy once-over while he wiped his hands on an oily rag.

He must have thought he’d missed something in his rude inspection because he gave her the once-over again, and then again. Honest to Pete, her car hadn’t gotten this much attention.

She was going to have to put up with the jerk because he was the only mechanic in town until next Monday.

“I’m pretty certain the radiator has a leak,” she said. “So what do you think? Can you patch it up?”

The mechanic had his name, Lloyd, printed on a strip of masking tape and stuck to his shirt pocket. The edges were curling up. He turned away, tossed the dirty rag on a nearby rack, and then turned around again.

“Can I patch it? Depends,” he drawled. “It’s egregious is what it is.”

“It is?”

“You know…salivient.”

Lloyd obviously liked to use big words whenever possible, even when those words didn’t make sense. Salivient? Was that even a word?

“But you can fix it?”

“It’s almost beyond repair, sweetie.”

Sweetie? I don’t think so. She silently counted to five in an attempt to keep her temper under control so she wouldn’t blow up. It wouldn’t do to alienate the man who could get her car running.

Good old Lloyd had worked his way down to her feet and was on his way back up when he said, “What we have here is a serious situation.”

“We do?” Determined to get along no matter how irritating the man was, she nodded. “You said it was almost beyond repair?”

“That’s right. Almost.”

She crossed her arms and waited for him to finish another trip down her legs and back. He should have them memorized by now. “Would you care to explain?”

“Your radiator has a leak.”

She felt like screaming. She’d already told him that.

“I could probably repair it temporarily, but I can’t guarantee it would hold,” Lloyd continued.

“How long will it take you to repair it?”

“Depends on what I find under the hood.” He raised his eyebrows meaningfully, and when she didn’t immediately react, he added, “You know what I mean?”

She knew exactly what he meant. Lloyd was a real degenerate. Her patience ended. “You’ve already looked under the hood,” she snapped.

Her obvious anger didn’t appear to faze him. He must be used to rejection, she decided. Either that or he’d stood outside in the sun too long and had fried his brain.

“Are you married, sweetie?”

“Am I what?”

“Married. Are you married? I need to know who to bill,” he explained.

“Bill me.”

“I’m just being hospitable. You don’t need to snap at me.”

“How long will the repair take?”

“A day…maybe two.”

“Okay, then,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll be on my way.”

He didn’t understand until she walked around him and opened the car door.

“Wait a minute. You’re leaving with a leak…”

“Yes, that’s right.”

He snorted. “You won’t get far.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

He thought she was bluffing until she started the engine and began to back out of the garage.

“I could maybe fix it by noon,” he blurted.

“Maybe?”

“Okay, for sure by noon,” he agreed. “And I won’t charge you much.”

She put the brakes on. “How much?”

“Sixty-five, maybe seventy, but no more than eighty. I don’t take credit cards, and since you’re from out of town, I won’t take a check. You’ll have to give me cash.”

Lured by the promise that she could have her car back by noon, she agreed, and handed the keys over to Lloyd.

She walked back to the motel but stopped in the lobby to speak to Amelia Ann.

“I have several boxes of papers I need to photocopy,” she said. “The grocery store near the Parson’s Creek bridge has a copier, but it’s quite a walk from here and I was wondering if there are any copy machines closer.”

“Let me do some checking for you while you go have some breakfast. I think maybe I can find one for you.”

The Home Away from Home Motel had a closet-sized coffee shop. Jordan was the only customer. She didn’t have much of an appetite and ordered toast and orange juice.

Amelia Ann came looking for her. “I only had to make a couple of calls,” she said. “And you’re in luck. Charlene over at the Nelson Insurance Agency has a brand-spanking-new copy machine. The company put it in last week, and it’s on trial, so they don’t care how many papers you have to copy just as long as you pay for the paper you use. Steve Nelson carries the insurance on this motel, so he’s not going to mind doing a favor.”

“That’s wonderful,” Jordan said. “Thank you so much.”

“I don’t mind helping out when I can. Charlene said to tell you the machine has a feeder, so it will copy lickety-split.”

The news just kept getting better. The insurance agency was only three short blocks away from the motel, and the copier was in a room all by itself, so Jordan wouldn’t bother Charlene or her boss while she worked.

The copy machine was an absolute dream, and she made quick progress. She was interrupted only once when a client of the agency, Kyle Heffermint, stopped by to get some figures. While Charlene was gathering them for him, he spotted Jordan in the copy room and took it upon himself to act as the welcoming committee for the town of Serenity. He leaned against the wall and chatted as Jordan continued to feed pages into the machine. Kyle was a pleasant man, and she enjoyed hearing all about the history and politics of the community, even though his habits of repeating her name and punctuating his comments by raising one eyebrow were a bit annoying. After she declined his fourth offer to “show her around,” Charlene came to the rescue and ushered him to the door.

Jordan had copied two full boxes before noon. Staggering under the weight, she carried the first and the second box of originals back to her motel room and then returned for the copies. She stuffed some of the pages in her tote bag with her laptop so she could start reading while she had lunch.

It was a quarter to twelve when she arrived at Lloyd’s Garage to find the coolant reservoir and most of the engine lined up on a tarp.

Lloyd was sprawled out in a metal chair, fanning himself with a folded newspaper, but the second he spotted her in the doorway he tossed the paper aside and jumped to attention. He put his hands up as though to ward off a blow and blurted, “Now don’t get yourself in a roar.”

The radiator hose was draped over the coolant reservoir in the center of the tarp. She stared at it while she casually asked, “What is all this?”

“Parts…belongs inside your car. I ran into a few problems,” he continued. He couldn’t quite look her in the eye. “I was wanting to make sure it was a leak in the radiator and not something else, so I pulled the hose to check for a tear and there wasn’t any, and then I decided to check the clamp, and it was okay, and then I decided I might as well check a couple of other things too. And what do you know…the leak turned out to be in the radiator after all, just like I suspected. Better safe than sorry, don’t you think? And I’m not charging extra for the extra work. A thank-you will be fine. Oh, and one more thing,” he added in another rush. “I’ll get it fixed by tomorrow noon, like I promised.”

She took a deep breath. “You promised it would be fixed by noon today.” She was so furious she’d been played, her voice shook.

“No, you made an assumption.”

“You promised noon today,” she repeated forcefully.

“No, I never said today. That’s where the assumption part comes in. I just said noon. I didn’t say noon today or noon tomorrow.” And without pausing for breath, he asked, “Since you’re going to have to stay in town another night and don’t know a soul, how about having dinner with me?”

Lloyd apparently lived in another dimension.

“Put it all back. Put it all back now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I want you to put everything back where it belongs. Do it now, please.”

Lloyd must not have liked the look in her eyes because he took a hasty step back. “I can’t,” he said. “I’ve got another job to finish first.”

“Really? Then you weren’t taking a nap when I walked in?”

“I wasn’t napping. I was taking a break.”

She knew it would be pointless to argue with him. “When will my car be ready?”

“Noon tomorrow,” he said. “See what just happened here? I said noon tomorrow, so I can’t get out of it. Once I say something, it’s said.”

She blinked. What in heaven’s name was that supposed to mean? Maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. “Once you say something…”

“It’s said,” he repeated with a nod. “And that means I can’t take it back.”

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter