Blackout by Caroline Crane Page B

amusement. “You’re
perfectly safe here at Barger’s, pussycat. Go and enjoy your new
engine.”
    At least they hadn’t left the keys in it. He
gave them to me and I went outside to take the old biddy home.
     
    I thought of it as female, but maybe it
wasn’t. Cree’s grandmother gave her car a name. She called it
Archie. When I told that to Ben, he suggested I name mine Rufus
because it was red. He said Rufus was a Roman name meaning
“red-haired.” My car didn’t have hair and I couldn’t think of it as
Rufus, so I didn’t bother.
    “Okay, nameless one.” I said, and inserted
the key.
    It didn’t turn.
    I tried it the other way, and it locked.
    I ran back into the office. “Mr. Wally!”
    In the service bay, he popped out from behind
a green Jeep. “What’s the matter, pussycat?”
    “I am not a pussycat and my car was unlocked!
How could they leave it outside unlocked? Overnight!”
    He looked totally baffled and somewhat
appalled. As if I’d said I found a body in it. “Who did?” he
asked.
    “Whoever put it out there. I said I wanted it safe. That would include locking it, I would think,
considering your parking lot is wide open to the whole world.”
    “Did something happen?” he asked.
    “I haven’t tried it yet and I’m not going to
without a thorough inspection. The person who cut my brake line is
still at large.”
    That made it sound as if Evan was some kind
of escaped monster. Okay, if it acts like a monster. . . .
    Wally was still trying to digest that when I
asked him to take a look at it. I had no intention of getting in
the car until somebody went over it. I never thought I’d miss Ben
so much. He was the one who found the cut brake line that time.
    “Uh, pussycat, we’re kinda busy right now.”
He emphasized it with a look at his watch.
    “Then I’ll have to leave it here until
somebody has the time.” I could take a taxi home but I really
wanted to stay and watch while somebody went over it.
    I added, “It can’t take more than five
minutes to check the basics.”
    How much did I know about it? Not one thing.
I desperately needed to study auto mechanics.
    Wally scratched his head. Way to get grease
in your hair. He asked, “What do you want looked at?”
    “Everything that could be sabotaged that
would put me in danger. Brakes, steering. I’m sure you would
know.”
    That worked, appealing to his superior
knowledge. I didn’t grow up with a brother for nothing.
    We walked out together. He hoisted up the
hood and peered into the engine. I did, too. No time like the
present to start my education.
    He showed me where the brake fluid went and
how it was carried to the brakes. The power steering, too, was AOK.
Also the spark plugs. I knew about those. I’d had trouble with them
before. That, for a change, was not Evan’s fault.
    Wally checked everything he could easily
reach, which I had to assume was all Evan could easily reach, and
pronounced it in working order.
    “Satisfied now, pussycat?”
    Not quite. I asked him to start it for me. He
chuckled, and did. Nothing blew up. It was not that I wanted to
endanger him. I didn’t want me in danger, either, and he was laughing at me. I couldn’t help being annoyed about
that.
    Still laughing, he went back to his green
Jeep and I tried once again to get Rick.
    Not even voicemail. He never turned off his
phone. Was it still that hostage taker? Why didn’t they just
teargas the guy? It wouldn’t hurt the children permanently.
Probably a lot less permanently than being held hostage. Maybe he
had electric fans set up in all the windows to blow it back at the
cops. Maybe he was holding the children at gunpoint. Again, I
wondered where in Southbridge this was taking place. Who in
Southbridge would do such a thing? Nobody I knew, except maybe
Evan. I didn’t by any means know all or even most of the people in
my town. Not with a population in the thousands.
    While my thoughts ran, I’d kept the engine
running. Stupid me,