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Page 3 of Midnight Auto Parts

Whether Carter had made the offer or Josie extended it to herself was less clear.

“I’m at a nursery on Whitemarsh Island right now. I talked Carter into buying a friend—or seven—for her oakleaf hydrangea.” Her words muffled as she spoke with Carter. “I can be there in thirty.”

“I can help.” Kierce’s expression grew distant as he conferred with Badb. “Wecan help.”

“Aww. Let him. He needs to learn the family business if he’s sticking around,” Josie wheedled. “Repos are a part of it.”

“I want to learn,” he said, listening in on our conversation with the same superhuman senses developing in me. They swept through me in waves of sensation that often sent me crashing to my knees. I had to learn to control them if I didn’t want them to control me. “Teach me.”

But that meant looking at the big picture, and I would rather pretend I was blind for a little longer.

“Listen to the man,” Josie urged. “He has the right idea.”

“You’re only saying that because it wasyouridea,” I pointed out to her. “But fine. You win. We’ll go.”

Even if Keshawn held her pee like a pro, she had to stop for gas sometime.

This hadn’t been their plan, not when Tameka rolled up, which meant they hadn’t been road trip ready.

Plus, the handoff of keys today had been symbolic. Monster trucks weren’t road trucks. You didn’t run errands in them. They drank methanol. As in gallons per minute. Their max was around five or six miles per gallon, but that assumed zero flash.

However you looked at it, these trucks were sprinters. Not marathoners. Which worked in our favor.

“Go pack a bag with a change of clothes.” I nudged Kierce toward the stairs. “Meet you in ten.”

As I climbed behind him, I dialed Matty and got Pascal. “Close shop now and meet me at the wagon.”

The decision would hurt our already sore bottom line, but I preferred releasing Pascal early to costing Matty even one of his precious hours. Better safe than sorry. With repos, especially ones involving car chases, you never knew what you were driving into.

“What’s wrong, Francita?” He stuck his head out of the nearest open bay door. “What’s going on?”

I waved to let him know everything was okay, pointed at the phone, then let myself into my apartment.

“We’ve got a repo.” I stuffed a spare outfit and toiletries in a bag. “Kierce and I are going after her.”

“Not Pink Panic lady.” He made a production out of groaning. “I had mad respect for her.”

“Pink Panic Jr. must have convinced Tameka to run. I hope we’ll be back tonight, but I can’t say for sure.”

Some repos fought harder than others, and Keshawn had enough gumption in her for both of them.

“Since he’ll be off early,” Pascal, who must have heard my worries clinking together like coins, reasoned, “I’ll leave Matty with a list of customers to reschedule.”

“Thanks.” A flicker of relief allowed me to breathe easier. “I owe you one.”

“We’re family, Francita, you owe menone.”

Ending the call, I slung the bag over my shoulder, exited onto the landing, and locked my door.

As the latch clicked, a loud squawk from behind me shot my heart into my throat, and I spun to find Badb hopping down the rail toward me. I could have argued with her, but that would waste even more time. Besides, I already knew the drill.

“Are you serious?” She had taught me specific tells for when she wanted certain items from her treasure trove. “You’re such a brat.”

Ducking back into my apartment, I snatched the cat bed she slept in. A sharp cry reminded me to fetch her mirror while I was at it. I stuck it in my pocket then got an earful that convinced me she wanted cat food.

“We could be back in thirty minutes.” I doubted we were that lucky, but optimism never hurt anyone. “I’m not bringing every little thing you own—that you’vestolen—on a road trip that might not last an hour.”

After clicking her beak at me, she sailed away. She had spotted Kierce below and landed on his shoulder. I had zero doubts she was whining, but oh well. We had to get a move on, or we would be too far behind to catch up until the mother/daughter team required food or sleep. Even that might not give us a break.




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