Randolph
off the road?
She swerved into the right lane at the first Cape
exit and arrowed straight to the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi and to the
county impound lot.
Eddie sauntered out to greet her the minute she
rumbled to a stop in front of the office.
“Rhetta, I’m sorry about Randolph’s accident. Is he
going to be okay?” She didn’t ask Eddie how he knew about the wreck. Obviously,
he would’ve been the one to get the truck and haul it in.
“He had surgery last night. The doctors say he’s
going to be fine.” She scoped out the lot. “Where’s his truck? It’s here, isn’t
it?”
“Yeah, it’s here. I got called out early this
morning to pick it up. Are you sure you want to see it?” He removed his ball
cap and wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve before returning the cap to his
head.
“I have to see it.” Rhetta turned off the ignition
and scrambled out of the car.
“Follow me.” Eddie made for the back of the lot.
She trotted to keep up. When they stopped at the
trailer holding the crushed remains of Randolph’s beloved Artmobile, the
twisted wreckage spoke for itself. The truck was totaled.
She took a deep breath and walked around the
trailer. Unlike the last time she poked around a vehicle in this same lot, this
time she didn’t try to open any doors. She just stood staring at the driver’s
side front fender at a long gash that continued to the driver’s door. Al-Serafi’s
car bore one just like it.
“Eddie, do you see this?” She called him over.
“Looks like the truck grazed something.” He rubbed
his palm along the damage. When he removed his hand, dark green paint particles
stuck to his fingers.
“Don’t let anyone take this truck, Eddie,” Rhetta
said, gazing around the lot. “Please cordon this off with tape, and don’t let
anyone even touch it.”
“Okay, but you know the insurance adjuster will need
to see it. What’s going on?” Eddie also panned the lot.
“Do you remember Hakim Al-Serafi’s car? I’m pretty
sure it had the same kind of gash.” She pointed to the Artmobile’s fender. “I
found it odd when I saw it on Al-Serafi’s car, because there was no damage to
his car when he was in our office a few weeks ago. I wouldn’t have thought much
about it until now I see a similar one on the Artmobile.” Rhetta gripped
Eddie’s arm. “You know how Randolph is about his truck. There wasn’t a mark on
it before the accident.”
Gazing around, she continued, “Is Al-Serafi’s car
still here?” She wanted to see that car again, compare the scratches, and make
sure she wasn’t imagining any of this.
“It’s already gone. They came and picked it up
yesterday and towed it away.” Eddie removed a handkerchief from his pocket and
wiped his brow.
“Who, our insurance company?”
“I guess. The guy who showed up had all the forms
signed by Mrs. Al-Serafi. Art let them take the car.” Art was a university
student in his early twenties who helped Eddie occasionally. “There was no
reason to keep it here. The insurance companies do that all the time on cars
that are totaled.”
“Do insurance companies usually come get the
vehicles so quickly?” Rhetta fixed her gaze on the now empty flatbed trailer
that had held Al-Serafi’s car.
“Sometimes.” Eddie shrugged. “We never thought
anything about it. Should we have?”
Not wanting to say more, since she herself wasn’t
sure what she thought, she said, “No. I guess I’m just upset.”
After thanking him, Rhetta headed for her car while
Eddie returned to his office. She rested against Cami’s front fender and
sighed. Then she opened the door and slid into the still-cool interior. She
reached across to the console, and after a quick search, pulled out a single
latex glove along with her secret stash—a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
Stepping out of her car, she tugged on a latex glove, then lit the cigarette. Holding
it between her gloved thumb and forefinger, she took two
off the road?
She swerved into the right lane at the first Cape
exit and arrowed straight to the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi and to the
county impound lot.
Eddie sauntered out to greet her the minute she
rumbled to a stop in front of the office.
“Rhetta, I’m sorry about Randolph’s accident. Is he
going to be okay?” She didn’t ask Eddie how he knew about the wreck. Obviously,
he would’ve been the one to get the truck and haul it in.
“He had surgery last night. The doctors say he’s
going to be fine.” She scoped out the lot. “Where’s his truck? It’s here, isn’t
it?”
“Yeah, it’s here. I got called out early this
morning to pick it up. Are you sure you want to see it?” He removed his ball
cap and wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve before returning the cap to his
head.
“I have to see it.” Rhetta turned off the ignition
and scrambled out of the car.
“Follow me.” Eddie made for the back of the lot.
She trotted to keep up. When they stopped at the
trailer holding the crushed remains of Randolph’s beloved Artmobile, the
twisted wreckage spoke for itself. The truck was totaled.
She took a deep breath and walked around the
trailer. Unlike the last time she poked around a vehicle in this same lot, this
time she didn’t try to open any doors. She just stood staring at the driver’s
side front fender at a long gash that continued to the driver’s door. Al-Serafi’s
car bore one just like it.
“Eddie, do you see this?” She called him over.
“Looks like the truck grazed something.” He rubbed
his palm along the damage. When he removed his hand, dark green paint particles
stuck to his fingers.
“Don’t let anyone take this truck, Eddie,” Rhetta
said, gazing around the lot. “Please cordon this off with tape, and don’t let
anyone even touch it.”
“Okay, but you know the insurance adjuster will need
to see it. What’s going on?” Eddie also panned the lot.
“Do you remember Hakim Al-Serafi’s car? I’m pretty
sure it had the same kind of gash.” She pointed to the Artmobile’s fender. “I
found it odd when I saw it on Al-Serafi’s car, because there was no damage to
his car when he was in our office a few weeks ago. I wouldn’t have thought much
about it until now I see a similar one on the Artmobile.” Rhetta gripped
Eddie’s arm. “You know how Randolph is about his truck. There wasn’t a mark on
it before the accident.”
Gazing around, she continued, “Is Al-Serafi’s car
still here?” She wanted to see that car again, compare the scratches, and make
sure she wasn’t imagining any of this.
“It’s already gone. They came and picked it up
yesterday and towed it away.” Eddie removed a handkerchief from his pocket and
wiped his brow.
“Who, our insurance company?”
“I guess. The guy who showed up had all the forms
signed by Mrs. Al-Serafi. Art let them take the car.” Art was a university
student in his early twenties who helped Eddie occasionally. “There was no
reason to keep it here. The insurance companies do that all the time on cars
that are totaled.”
“Do insurance companies usually come get the
vehicles so quickly?” Rhetta fixed her gaze on the now empty flatbed trailer
that had held Al-Serafi’s car.
“Sometimes.” Eddie shrugged. “We never thought
anything about it. Should we have?”
Not wanting to say more, since she herself wasn’t
sure what she thought, she said, “No. I guess I’m just upset.”
After thanking him, Rhetta headed for her car while
Eddie returned to his office. She rested against Cami’s front fender and
sighed. Then she opened the door and slid into the still-cool interior. She
reached across to the console, and after a quick search, pulled out a single
latex glove along with her secret stash—a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
Stepping out of her car, she tugged on a latex glove, then lit the cigarette. Holding
it between her gloved thumb and forefinger, she took two
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