Boosted Pt. 04

"You want to shower first, or me?"

"I'll go first. My hair can dry while I throw something together for dinner."

"Why don't we eat there? It's easier, and I know the owner."

She snickered. "Sounds good, but I'm still going first."

An hour later, freshly scrubbed, Sean backed his car out of the garage, and twenty minutes after that he was pulling into the parking lot of Loch and Castle. The lot wasn't full, but it contained more cars than he'd seen at any other time. He often opened Maggie's door for her, but tonight she let herself out, probably guessing that he was anxious to find out why Laura called. He opened the door to the pub and escorted her in. The pub was as busy as Mangia on a Wednesday night, and he smiled. This was the biggest crowd they'd had yet. Word was getting around. Laura met them at the door.

"What do you think?" she asked, looking around with a self-satisfied smile.

"What?" Sean asked.

"The crowd! I told you things would pick up."

"This is what you wanted me to see? You could have told me that on the phone. You had me worried."

Laura's smile spread. "I could have, but you couldn't see how happy everyone looks. I thought you needed to see this for yourself. This is a good crowd for a Wednesday."

He relaxed and returned her smile. "Maybe you'll get to keep your job after all."

Laura slapped him playfully with the two menus. "Table for two?"

"Please."

As they sat, Maggie looked around. "The place looks better with more people in it."

His gaze swept the room. She was right, it did, and best of all, everyone was smiling and appeared to be having a good time. The food at Mangia was first rate, but it was a quiet, subdued, place. While Loch and Castle wasn't boisterous, there was a liveliness to the atmosphere that Mangia lacked.

"I'm suddenly in the mood to celebrate. Share a Guinness with me?"

Maggie began shaking her head as Jorie approached. "No, I don't think I'll be doing that," she said, but then she smiled. "I might have a glass of wine, though."

As Sean and Maggie ate, Loch and Castle neared but didn't quite reach capacity. There were still plenty of open places at the bar, and there were a few tables that remained unoccupied, but if they were this busy on Wednesday, they might actually have a short wait on the weekend. Laura had warned him she was going to need additional wait staff as business picked up. She might need to hire Jorie and Christine some help sooner rather than later.

"I had a good time," Maggie said as they strolled back to his car. "I'm starting to see the appeal of a pub."

Sean smiled. He'd enjoyed himself as well. It was like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was too early to consider expanding, but now he was sure the pub had a fighting chance to survive. "So did I," he said as he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. He was opening the car door for her when the first drop of rain landed on the back of his neck. He quickly shut the door and hurried around to the other side.

"It's starting to rain," she said as he slid into the driver's seat.

The rain dotting the windshield was clearly visible in the security light illuminating the parking lot. "I see. Another lucky break. First, I beat you in a foot race, I got--"

"Did not!" she protested loudly.

"I almost beat you in a foot race, I got to enjoy a delicious meal with a beautiful woman, Loch and Castle is full, and we're in the car before it started to rain. Overall, a good night."

She leaned over, offering her lips, an offer he was delighted to accept. The computer mounted between them made the task a bit awkward, but they managed. "Good recovery," she murmured as their lips parted.

"I try." He pulled out of the parking lot, but instead of turning for home, he turned the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?"

"I want to look at something. Do you mind?" he asked.

"No. Will it take long?"

"No. I want to drive by BIGS and take a quick look around."

"Why?"

"Just checking."

"Checking what?"

"To see if they're open."

"At this hour? Why would they be open so late?"

"I just want to check."

A few minutes later he drove past the building, only a couple of lonely lights illuminating the building. BIGS was obviously shutdown for the evening, the bright Closed sign in the front window confirming what the darkened building suggested. He turned around in his normal spot and started back, the car's wipers thumping rhythmically as the rain began to increase in intensity.

"See what you wanted to see?"

He glanced at her in the darkness. "I'm not sure."

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NINE

When Sean returned to work the next day, the box of fudge he'd left in the breakroom was missing. He smiled to himself. The first officer who returned to the station and noticed the box probably told his fellow officers about the treat. It was equally probable that the rest of the force suddenly had a dire need to return to the station for one reason or another. He started his day boxing up old case files that his dispatchers had finished keying into PISTOL. Once every two or three weeks he'd load the boxes into his car and take them to the courthouse for long-term storage. They'd completed entering about twenty percent of their old files. If they continued at this pace, in four years or so, his department's records would be completely computerized. There was no real rush to get the old files into PISTOL. All their new and active cases were already in the software, but he wanted to get as many of the paper files keyed in as possible. PISTOL was only as good as the information it contained, and the more cases it had to work with, the more likely it was the software would find related cases, which could conceivably lead to an opportunity to solve an old case that had been forgotten.

The rest of the morning was spent reviewing résumés and completing general office tasks, before he hauled the three boxes of files to his car and placed them in the backseat. "I'm leaving for lunch. I'm going to run the files to city hall, then there are a couple of things I need to do," he said as he carried out the fourth and final box.

"See you later," Terri replied.

Even though he'd let the City Clerk know what he was doing, when he first began delivering boxes to the courthouse, things had been confused. The clerk had expected only a few boxes, not the dozens he would be bringing. In the eight months since, the clerk's staff had cleaned out a section for him and consolidated his files, from the numerous small groups tucked into whatever space they could find, into the single area reserved for his use. Now it was a simple matter of adding the new boxes in the proper order, the neatly written case dates on the outside of the box making the filing easy.

After the boxes were safely stored, Sean stopped by The Burger Factory for takeout, the delicious smell of the burger and fries filling the car as he drove to his next stop. He passed BIGS without slowing before turning right onto Juniper, the crossroad that he'd been using to turn around. He crept to a stop on the side of the road, well back from the stop sign. He could see enough of the parking lot of BIGS through the trees to discover what he wanted to know.

His car idling for the air conditioning, he opened the bag that contained his burger and pulled it out, but left the fries inside, reaching into the bag when he wanted one. As he ate, he kept an eye on BIGS. There was an exceptionally clean eighties something BMW 6 series coupe in the parking lot, but there was no other activity. He'd almost finished the burger when a man walked out, disappeared into the BMW, and then drove away. He was eating the last of his fries when a tired looking air-cooled Volkswagen Beetle pulled to a stop, a New Beetle pulling in moments later to park beside it. The driver of the wheezy old Beetle, a young woman he'd guess based on the style of dress and hair, disappeared inside. Less than three minutes later, she appeared again and settled into the passenger seat of the New Beetle before it too drove away. Five minutes after that, the air-cooled Beetle disappeared behind the fence.

He continued to watch. His Jaguar mechanic in Boston had a waiting list of at least a week, and when he dropped by to talk to the shop about a repair, there was almost always at least one other customer there dropping off, picking up, or discussing a problem. BIGS didn't seem to do nearly that level of business, so why did CJ need such a big building?

He watched for two more hours, until his bladder began to urge him to wrap up his impromptu surveillance. In the nearly three hours he'd watched the establishment, he'd seen the BMW that was there when he drove past, two air-cooled VWs, an old Mercedes sedan from the seventies, an original Morris Mini-Minor, and an air-cooled Porsche, but he hadn't seen anyone in the last half-hour. He supposed it could be a slow day, or maybe their customers didn't realize they were open in their new location, but something didn't feel right. He'd accepted CJ's explanation that they'd moved because they'd outgrown their previous location without question, but if this was the amount of business they normally did, that didn't make sense unless their old location was tiny.

He pulled out his phone and looked BIGS Automotive Repair up on the internet. It was a relatively simple website, describing their services, their hours, and listing the makes of cars they specialized in. He browsed the frequently asked questions section and read the short blurb about their move to Tilley. Of more interest was the photo section. There were some truly outstanding examples of old European cars, but what caught his eye was the lack of cars in the background. All the photos were taken at what he assumed was BIGS' former location. From what he could see in the photos, their old shop was less than half the size of their current location. While he could accept they bought such a large facility with the plans to grow into it, going by the photos, it didn't appear they needed any more room than they had at their old location. In many of the photos, one or more of the repair bays appeared to be empty. Maybe the empty bay was where the car in the picture came from, but that explanation didn't feel right either. It was too consistent. Were none of the cars photographed before they went into the bay?

He finished swiping through the photos. Most of the photos showed empty bays and a nearly empty parking lot, yet the owner claimed they'd outgrown their old location. CJ was either a terrible business manager or there was more going on at BIGS than there appeared to be.

When he finished flicking through the photos, he tucked his phone away and drove to the Tilley City Hall. Because Tilley was a small town, the building that contained the city hall also housed the police station, one of their two fire stations, and a community meeting room. He parked in one of the spots reserved for police cars and hurried inside. After relieving himself he stopped inside the suite that once held Tilley's police department but now served as a satellite office for the Brunswick PD officers that patrolled Tilley. There was no one in the three-room office. Checking on his officers wasn't why he stopped. Using the restroom, and to stop at the records office, was.

"Hello, chief," Helen Tubert said with a smile as he entered her small office. Helen was a squat woman with a round face and a friendly smile. He'd become very well acquainted with Helen when getting all his permits for Loch and Castle.

"How's my favorite records clerk?" Sean asked.

"She's doing fine. I tried your bar and grill. I liked it. I never thought I'd see the day that a new business opened in Tilley."

"You helped make it happen."

She spluttered. "By issuing you permits? It wasn't like I had to drop everything to do them. Ask me how long it's been since I issued a new business or building permit."

"How long?"

"Don't ask," she said with a grin. "What brings you back to my little corner of Tilley?"

"I need a little information."

"You've come to the right office."

"BIGS Automotive Repair, know it?"

"Know of it, yeah. The place that took over the old Woodard Chevy dealer. Why?"

"What can you tell me about them?"

She shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything out of the ordinary?"

Helen paused. "Not that I can think of. Why? Is there something wrong?"

Sean shook his head. "No. Just curious. So, everything was by the book?"

"Yep. They came in and got all their permits and inspections just like they should."

He grunted. "Can you tell me who owns the building?"

"Yeah, BIGS Automotive LLC."

"How do you remember all that?"

"Sean, look around you. There are two businesses in Tilley. How hard is it to remember two things?"

He coughed out a single chuckle. "Okay, you got me there."

"Why do I think you're fishing for something? If you tell me what it is, maybe I can help. Everything in this office is public information."

"Just trying to satisfy my curiosity, that's all."

"About what?"

"About why they moved to Tilley."

"They got the building and land for cheap, and the City Council gave them a one-year waiver on city sales and property tax. That might have something to do with it."

"So similar to the deal I got?"

"Yeah. We can't thank you enough for what you've done for Tilley. As I said before, I can't believe we're actually getting new businesses coming into town. First you, and now this car place, and it's all because of you. I know it hasn't been easy, but you've done more for Tilley in the past year than anyone else has in the past five."

"Well, we couldn't do it without the help of the people."

"Most folks didn't believe you could do it, but you proved them wrong."

"There are a lot of good men and women out there doing the dirty work. They're the ones that made it happen, not me."

"I know. But having you open your place said more about your commitment to Tilley than anything else you could have said or done. When I go home, I look down the road and see your place all lit up... and the first time I saw people inside, I don't mind telling you, it made me cry a little."

He shuffled his feet. The people of Tilley--some of the people anyway--seemed so grateful it made him a little uncomfortable. He hadn't opened the pub to make a statement, he opened it to make money. He didn't know what to say to her, so he decided to steer the conversation back to the reason he was there. "So BIGS was able to buy the building cheap and got a sweetheart deal from the town? Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary?"

She shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of."

"Thanks. You've been a big help."

"Anytime."

He walked to his car, thinking. CJ told him she'd gotten the building on the cheap, but she'd also said the payments were the same as her rent. Why go to the expense of moving to a larger place they didn't appear to need, only to make the same payments? The savings on taxes likely wouldn't offset the cost of the move, not for only one year. It made no sense, and he'd learned through years of police work, if something didn't make sense, it was usually because he didn't have all the facts. He dropped into his car and started it, but then sat for a moment, trying to decide what to do. He had nothing other than a gut feeling that BIGS was up to something, and you couldn't arrest someone on a hunch. He'd like to have a look around the place, but as he told Paul, he didn't want to tip his hand he was suspicious. What he wanted was to be able to take a peek without them knowing the reason he wanted to take a peek.

A small smile touched his lips. He backed out of the parking space and drove back to BIGS, pulled to a stop in the parking lot, and walked in like any other customer. "Mr. McGhee," CJ said as soon as he entered. "Back so soon? Something wrong with your Jag?"

"Nothing you didn't already tell me about, which is why I'm here. I have a question."

"Shoot."

"I've heard about a rear, vented disc brake kit, for E-Types. Know anything about it?"

"No," CJ said slowly, her face scrunching as she thought. "The E-Type, it has solid discs on the back, right?"

"That's right. What I was thinking was, if I had the rear seals replaced, I might as well have the brakes done. If I'm going to have the brakes done, I might as well consider upgrading to the vented kit. I was wondering how much extra it might cost, and how much extra work it would be."

"I don't know the answer to that. You need to talk to Dalton. Let me go get him."

Sean waved his hands in front of him. "No, no. Don't do that. I don't want to interrupt his work or anything."

"No problem," CJ said. "I'll go get him, or we can step into the shop if you want."

He hesitated, wanting to give the impression that wasn't exactly what he was hoping for. "You sure it's no bother?"

"None at all."

"Then thanks. The shop is fine. That way I won't interrupt, at least as much." He followed CJ down the hall to the door he suspected led to the shop. "If you don't mind my asking, what does CJ stand for?"

"Civilian Jeep," she said, and then snickered. "Cynthia Jane."

"There's a story in there, I can tell."

She smiled brightly. "My first car was a 1980 CJ7 Golden Eagle, like the one Daisy Duke drove in the Dukes of Hazzard."

"I've heard of the show but never watched it," he said as she pushed the door open.

CJ grinned. "Well, it's obvious you're from up north somewhere, so I guess that's no surprise. Anyway, I was Cindy until then, but after I got the Jeep, it became CJ's Jeep. Later I was CJ in the Jeep, or CJ in the CJ, and it stuck. I loved that rig. It's what got me started doing this. Me and Dad, he's a mechanic, rebuilt that thing twice before I totaled it."

He winced as she led him across the shop floor. Four bays over, there was a bright red Austin-Healey Sprite up on the lift. It was a Mark II version, before the exterior door handles were added, so that made it a sixty-one to sixty-four model. Someone had taken loving care of the car and it was pristine in every detail.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Showing off. I thought that thing could go anywhere. It couldn't. I tried to drive it up a steep muddy hill, it got sideways, and I rolled it over. And over. And over. They said it flipped three times rolling down the hill. I lost count after the first one."

"Lucky you weren't hurt."

"Yeah. I got a little banged up, but what really hurt was losing Daisy."

"Your Jeep?"

"Yeah. Dalton!" she called as they approached the man standing under the Healey. "Mr. McGhee wants to talk to you about his Jag."

Dalton stepped out from under the car and removed his greasy blue gloves. "Mr. McGhee. Bloody nice Jag you've got there," he said, offering his hand.

Sean smiled at his accent as they shook. "You're not from around here either. England?"

"Australia. The missus is a Yank, so here I am."

"Mr. McGhee wanted to talk to you about installing a vented rear disc brake kit on his Jag."

Sean nodded. "There's a kit I've been looking at. The kit is supposed to keep the output shaft seals cooler so they don't leak as much. Heard anything about it?"

Dalton nodded. "A bit. The jury is still out on if it actually helps the leaks. I also hear it equalizes wear on the pads because the oil goes down between the discs instead of on them."

"Any extra to install?" Sean asked.

"My understanding is they're a direct replacement and all you have to do is add a spacer to the caliper because the discs are a bit wider, but nothing else."

"So, except for the parts, there is no extra cost to install over a regular rear brake job?"