He Took My Prison Sentence, So Now My Secretary Is Mine novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: The Shop

Ledbetter Auto Body smelled of primer and hot metal, and Yancey had missed it more than he'd admitted.

"You're late," Dewey said, from under a Chevy.

"It's six," Yancey said.

"You said five thirty."

"I had a meeting," Yancey said.

"Uh huh." A pair of boots and a red beard slid out on the creeper, and Dewey squinted up at him. "You've got a mark on your neck."

Yancey's hand flew to his collar.

"It's a bruise," Yancey said.

"It's a hickey," Dewey said. "I've seen a few. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Nobody."

"Nobody drives a grey Mercedes?"

Yancey turned.

A grey sedan was rolling slowly onto the shop apron, past the rows of cars with their hoods up, and the two men in coveralls at the sander had stopped to stare.

The window slid down.

Jud sat at the wheel in his shirtsleeves, one arm along the door.

"Mr. Crenshaw."

"Mr. Trammell. What are you doing here?"

"I have a scratch." Jud got out and went around to the rear bumper, and gestured at a mark on the paint no longer than a finger. "I'm told this is the place."

Dewey sat up on the creeper.

He looked at the scratch.

He looked at Jud's shoes, which cost more than the Chevy's transmission, and then at Jud's face.

"That," Dewey said slowly, "you could fix with a marker."

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