He glanced away, but I saw the irritation. “Might take a while to get a setup for a car like this. You can call me tomorrow and let me know what garage is going to charge you double to fix it, and I’ll get my guys to take it there.”
“Perfect, and perhaps you could give us a ride to a place where we might call an Uber safely?” Cricket managed a smile that was as tight as a bowstring.
Griff made a face. “I’m not a taxi, blondie.”
Coming to the rescue, I zeroed a stern gaze on my older cousin. “I know Gran would appreciate you making sure me and my boss have a safe location to get an Uber.”
Griff may have blanched . . . if a guy with tan skin and scruff on his jaw could grow pale. I knew he wouldn’t want me tattling to Gran. And I would if I had to, because he was being a total ass.
“Fine.” He turned, walked back to his tow truck, grabbed a pair of gloves, and started flipping some switches. The hydraulic lift began dropping the hook-and-chain thing he’d use to tow Cricket’s not-so-nondescript spy car.
“Thanks!” I hollered, turning back to Cricket. “Grab your stuff . . . Austin Powers.”
Cricket snorted and then opened the car door to start gathering the empty cup, the crumpled protein-bar package, and the tools of snoopery she’d employed, tossing everything into a monogrammed bag. She moved to the curb and sank down on her haunches, no longer perturbed but more resigned to how effed up our night had gotten.
I grabbed my backpack, realizing that tonight would be a long one because I still had an assignment due before class the next day and needed to study for a quiz. Across the street, a man wearing a faded T-shirt poked his head out his front door. I waved, giving a what-can-you-do shrug. He held up a hand before disappearing inside, closing the scarred door.
Neighborhood watch.
A few kids hung out in a nearby park, and I could hear catcalling, whooping, and the sound of the basketball bouncing on the court. A few cars rolled down Line Avenue, one slowing to investigate the wounded car but zipping off when they realized a tow truck was on the scene.
Griffin moved gracefully for such a hulk, and within a few minutes, the car moved toward his tow truck, a magnet to a pole, pulled steadily onto the platform he’d lowered. I moved to sit beside Cricket, who sat biting her lower lip, deep in thought.
“You know, his moon is all wrong,” Cricket finally said.
“What?”
“On the side of his truck. That’s a crescent moon, and everyone knows that a blue moon is a full moon. Of course, if he used a full moon, it would look like a circle and not as effective marketing-wise. Still, it’s sort of misleading.”
I looked at the writing on the side of my cousin’s cab under the crescent moon. BLUE MOON TOWING. “I don’t know if anyone really knows or cares. I mean, maybe it’s ironic.”
“Is it?” Cricket asked, looking lost in the space she occupied. I realized this could be a delayed-shock sort of thing. She had just caught her husband with another woman.
Really, this whole misadventure from start to finish had been a mistake, and I had gone along with it because for one thing, she was my boss and I owed her some kind of loyalty. But it was mostly because I felt bad for her. I knew how she felt—used up, tossed aside like a stiff tissue found in the bottom of a forgotten purse. My uncle Ed Earl had done that to me—tricking me into participating in his meth distribution without my knowing. I mean, now I feel stupid for not having seen that his “Do me a favor when you go into town” was a way to send his product to his “guys.” Yeah, I got busted for being a mule and didn’t know the packages of wild game I was taking to donate for “Hunters for the Hungry” were feeding their drug habits. Since it was a third strike and my lawyer was an idiot, I did time for it. The betrayal cut deep, which was why I wasn’t talking to my family. Except for Gran. And now Griff, I guess.
But that’s how I had gotten myself roped into Cricket’s escapade. Because earlier when I’d seen Cricket staring at the yellow roses with such a tragic expression and then saw the fat teardrops drip from her chin, I’d felt moved to do something.
First I had gotten her a sugary coffee drink from Starbucks when I went out to check the PO box, thinking that was at least something, but then she’d up and admitted to me that she thought Scott was cheating. At that moment, white-hot anger seared my soul. And all I could think about was how nice people like Cricket always ended up dealing with jerkoffs like Scott. Yeah, life was unfair, but sometimes that inequity just got to me. So I asked her what she needed me to do, and she had asked if she could pick me up for an assignation that night.
Sure, I was a little suspicious about what that might be, but I hadn’t imagined she’d planned surveillance on the girlfriend’s house.
Thankfully, she’d brought wine. Good booze was expensive, so I shut up, sipped the more-than-ten-dollar bottle of wine, and rationalized that it was harmless.
Of course, I hadn’t expected her to bolt and trespass. Such irrational behavior. But then again, Cricket couldn’t be logical about her husband doing the nasty with another woman. Time to get a little tough with her. After all, Cricket needed to hire an investigator, talk to an attorney, and make a plan. Harebrained schemes like breaking into someone’s backyard and snapping pictures were how a person ended up in jail. Then Scott really would have all the cards.
And now my big mouth had landed me back on Griff’s radar and with less time to study for my microeconomics quiz. All because I couldn’t help myself from wanting to right wrongs, fight injustices, and make bad guys pay. This was coded into my genetics. After all, my great-grandfather had killed the guy in that knife fight only after walking by and seeing the dude beating the crap out of his wife. Not his circus. Not his monkeys. And yet he waded into the fray like the ringmaster.
Cricket’s phone dinged, and she pulled it out of her bag. I slid a glance down, doing some spying of my own.
Where are you?
“Damn it,” Cricket groaned under her breath. She looked up at the stars winking against the black velvet above us and exhaled. “Scott beat me home.”
“So? Just tell him you went out.”
“To where?”
“The store or something. Or you can say I called you and needed something. Um, that I left the store unlocked.”
“No, I’m not throwing you under the bus.”
I snorted. “Who cares? Cover your own ass. I know how to take care of mine.”
She looked at me for a few seconds before she typed, Went to Ruby’s house to help her with some stuff for the shop. Got a flat tire on the Spider. Getting towed now.
That made sense. Maybe.
“Better to stick as close to the truth as possible,” she said.
Her phone vibrated. Ruby? The gal that works for you?
She typed Yes.
Okay. I was worried.
“Fuck you,” Cricket said.
Griffin glanced over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow.
Cricket’s cheeks pinked even in the dimness. “Oh. I said that out loud.”
That made me laugh. Griff narrowed his eyes at us sitting there like two birds on a wire, studying her phone. “She’s had a bad night.”