The Big Cat Nap

Collona—returned from lunch.
    Sammy knew her slightly. “Harry, I’ve heard of criminals returning to the scene of the crime, but not witnesses.”
    Chagrined at being caught, Harry said, “I … I couldn’t stay away. I don’t know why; I had to see it again.”
    “Once should be enough, lady,” Lodi snapped.
    With that, Harry climbed into the F-150, after lifting in Tucker. The cats were already inside.
    As Harry cranked the motor, Nick Ashby trotted out, Jason Brundige glaring after him.
    Making the time-out sign with his hands, the cute young Ashby said, “The guys aren’t as bad as they sound. Everyone’s upset, jumpy.”
    “Well, I was kind of trespassing.”
    “It’s okay. Next time you want to come around, call me. Nick Ashby.” He reached through the open truck window with his right hand to shake hers.
    “Thanks, Nick. I will.” Releasing his hand, she looked into his eyes. “I am sorry about what you all have been through. Something that shocking doesn’t fade away quickly in one’s mind.”
    He shrugged. “Things happen. You just gotta accept them and keep going. I learned a lot from Walt. He was hard on me, but he made me a better mechanic. I’ll miss him, but I won’t miss getting cussed out.” He smiled.
    “Guess for some people it’s the stick, not the carrot, if that makes sense.”
    “Does. I’m really a carrot guy.” He flashed a megawatt smile.
    “I’ll bring you some bunnies.” Harry laughed as he patted the truck windowsill, bidding her goodbye.
    She drove to Franny’s shop. She left the vehicle’s windows cracked and ran in. The ever-busy Franny, on her phone at her desk, waved in Harry.
    Hanging up the phone, she said, “And?”
    “You okay?”
    “Of course I’m okay.”
    Harry briefly recounted where she’d been, the response of the returning mechanics, and then she said, “No tires. Not one. Strange.”
    “Not really.” Franny stood up, smoothed her skirt, and sat down again. “Tires take up a lot of room. Most people don’t know too much about tires, so a shop like ReNu will generally just put on what the manufacturer originally had on the vehicle, unless the customer asks for something else.”
    “Does Victor ever buy tires from you?”
    “Rarely. He calls in orders from the various wholesalers or tire manufacturers, if possible. And as you may know, the whole piece comes: It’s an entire wheel, tire already on it. In the old days, you’d pry the tire off with a tire iron. You can still change a tire if you get a flat, but for ReNu’s purposes, it’s easier to pop on an entire wheel. Ithink all this is economically generated, because the customer has to buy so much more than, say, in the 1950s or 1960s. Though it’s true you do get your car back faster.”
    “You’ve answered my question. You were close, so I dropped in without calling. I apologize.”
    “No apology needed after all we’ve been through. I just heard that Willa’s cancer has returned.”
    Willa Reisman was a member of their cancer support group.
    “Oh, no.”
    “She made it four years, but damned if a spot hasn’t been found in her lung. That’s the thing: Those cells can travel. She had breast cancer, as you know.”
    “Think they found it in time?”
    “Hope so. She begins treatment next week. You know how viruses for computers are encrypted in something else, something that seems innocent?”
    “Yeah.”
    “That’s what I think cancer does. Malware. God, I hate this disease.”
    “I do, too.” Harry sighed, then changed the subject. “Do you think Victor at ReNu is a good businessman?”
    “One of the best.”
    “He hired a slacker for the front desk. I gained access to the garage during lunch break by slipping Kyle some money. So I’m thinking about that, you know. Victor is penny-wise and pound-foolish.”
    Franny played with her earring for a moment. “I guess we all are, to a degree. I know Victor very well, and he also respects mechanics. He probably doesn’t think too much about the front desk.”
    “But you hired a good person.”
    “The front desk is your face to the public. It’s the first employee of your company most people meet. You’re damned right I have a good person, but I’m selling. Victor isn’t. When the squashed car comes to him with the blown radiator or whatever, Victor already has the job. Still, you’ve given me something to think about.”
    “What?”
    “How sharp you are and how you rush in where angels fear to