Chapter 17: The Yard

Lena snatched the phone out from under his boot and ran up the stairs.

Cal let her go.

"She'll wipe it," Kira said.

"She'll try."

"Then it's gone."

"Nothing's gone that Preston touched. He's too proud to be careful."

They said goodnight on the courthouse steps in the dark.

She would not let him walk her to her car.

"Tomorrow," she said. "Not tonight. I need to be somewhere with my own door."

He watched her limp across the lot until her taillights turned the corner.

At the garage, the old boss had gone home.

The shop was dark except for the lamp over the bench and the red eye of the camera he had bolted above the bay door after the gala.

Cal was wiping down a torque wrench when headlights swept across the glass.

A car pulled up crooked across the apron with one wheel on the curb.

It was a silver sedan.

It was the same make as the one in the work order, a year newer, with a dent in the rear fender.

The door opened and Preston Ridgway got out.

His charcoal suit was creased, his tie was gone and he held a bottle by the neck.

"Bracken!"

Cal set the wrench down.

"You're on private property."

"I'm on a mechanic's property." Preston swayed. "It's all anyone's talked about today. Mechanic. Convict. Hero. You're famous."

"Go home, Preston."

"Dad says I shouldn't be here." He laughed. "Dad says stay away from the man I put in a cell. But I wanted to see you."

"Now you've seen me."

"I wanted to see what a man looks like when he's taken everything."

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