“What’s our story?” Pixie asked him as they got out of the car.
“I don’t know. I’m just gonna wing it,” he said as he pulled off his sunglasses.
They entered the building and approached the small glass-walled office, but before they’d reached it, a young guy in dirty blue overalls approached him.
“You’re Dred Zander, right?”
Dred turned to Pixie and raised his eyebrow. She smiled and shook her head.
“Yeah, dude. I am.”
He schmoozed the kid a little while longer, signed an autograph on the back of a dirty manifest. A couple of the other mechanics wandered over. Some with phones, some with things for him to sign.
“Hey, I’m looking for a guy who used to work here six years ago,” he said after posing for another photograph. “Who’s the best guy to talk to?”
“That’d be me,” a stocky blond said, stepping forward. “The name’s Joe. Been here since it opened a decade ago.”
Dred shook Joe’s hand, and pulled out the snapshot. “We’re looking for Brewster. He was a friend of my girlfriend’s old man. Do you know where he is?”
Joe took the picture. “Brewster? Yeah. I remember him. Good worker. Just stopped showing up for work one day.”
He saw Pixie turn white and he reached for her hand. “Do you remember when that was?”
“Easy question. End of March, seven years ago. Remember it clearly because my wife had given birth to our eldest a couple of days earlier, and the boss is on the line constantly trying to get me to come in and cover while he hires someone because Brewster stopped showing up. The wife was furious.” Some of the men around him laughed. “Why, he in some kinda trouble?”
Dred could see their hesitation. “No. Not at all. Her dad passed away, and he left something in his will for Brewster. Just trying to make sure he gets it.”
“Sorry for your loss, miss,” said Joe. “If you find him, tell him my wife hates him.”
Dred thanked them for their help and hurried Pixie to the car. “That was when it happened, Dred. That’s when I ran. Oh my God . . .” She wrapped her arms across her stomach.
She was losing control, and while a sense of panic washed over him, he was determined to keep his shit together. “We’ll figure all this out, Pix. It’s better that we know for sure, then we can start to deal with it.”
“I actually did it, I killed a man,” she whispered against his chest. He held her while her shoulders shuddered in quiet sobs.
They stood by the car for a moment longer, but he knew they needed to get out of Pahokee and figure out what came next. He’d already asked his lawyer find him a recommendation of a kick-ass lawyer in Miami. “We need to go, Pix. Focus on the positive. We now know there was a witness to Arnie moving Brewster. If we find that person, we might be able to prove he was alive when you left him, or at least tell Arnie you have proof he was involved so he backs off.”
He kissed the top of her head, then opened the car door for her.
As she was about to step inside, an employee called after them. “Mr. Zander. Wait.”
Pixie turned.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” the man said, obviously assuming Pixie’s tears were for the imaginary loss she’d suffered. “You said Brewster was left something in a will?”
“Yeah,” Dred answered. “It’s not much, but we want to make sure Brewster gets it.”
The man chewed on his bottom lip for a while. “Okay, here’s the deal,” he said, lowering his voice. “Brewster got in a little bit of trouble, never asked what, but he had to leave here quickly. We stayed in touch on and off. He’s like an hour and a half away in Hollywood.”
Dred wrapped his arm tightly around Pixie, who had slumped against him. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Spoke to him over the holidays, wished him Merry Christmas and shit.” He fiddled around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “This is his address.”
Dred took the paper and read what was written. “Thank you for this,” he said, and shook the man’s hand.
Pixie was in no state to drive, so he bundled her into the passenger seat and set the satellite navigation system for the address he’d been given. “You okay, Snowflake?” he asked as he pulled out of Pahokee.
“I need to see him,” she said quietly. “Which is something I never thought I would say. But I need to see with my own eyes that’s he’s alive and well. To know that I didn’t kill him. Then I can get on with the rest of my life.”
Dred reached across the console and held her hand. “What are you going to do about your mom?”
“I don’t know. I guess I need to get past all this first, then see how much energy I have left to try and forgive her.”