House of the Unwanted: A House of Frost Novel
Chapter 15
By Dabeagle
“I can't believe you fucked me through a wall,” I said, curling into Keats's warmth.
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against my face. “That just sounds weird.”
In truth we'd put a dent in his drywall. He'd been sitting on the edge of his bed, and I was in his lap working our way toward getting horizontal, or so I'd thought. All of a sudden Keats put his arms under my knees and started to stand up, so I grabbed him around the neck. We kissed, and he got me pressed up against the wall, and using that to pin me he moved one hand down to guide himself into me. Then it just became an issue of his pounding me until part of the wall sank in.
We both paused until he said, “I'll put a picture over it,” and he went back to rearranging my insides. One good part about the bonding settling down was sex tended to last longer, and a second was that we didn't cum quite so much. The glow though, that was still there.
“You think your parents will know what the dent in the wall means?”
“My mom will know exactly what it means.” He sighed. “She's kind of getting on me about our age gap.”
I ran my finger along his ribs and up to one of his nipples. “Why? It's only a couple years.”
“She says it sounds creepy in her head. When do you turn eighteen?”
I thought for a moment. “About a week and a half.”
“And you were going to tell me this when?”
I shrugged, and he poked my ribs, making me squirm and laugh involuntarily.
“You're being awfully sassy after that little demonstration earlier,” he said.
I sighed. “Well, what can I do? My instinct is to keep things under wraps, to limit the chance of things getting messy. But honestly, ever since Michael burned the Homestead, things have been nothing but messy. What can I do? If they don't believe me, maybe they stay away from me. I'd hate it, but I understand it. Or they go tell someone, and they sound crazy.” I shook my head. “I did what I can do, even though I'm kind of sick about it.”
“I'm sorry,” he said gently. “I feel bad I kind of pressured you into this.”
“No. You were right – you saw how important that concert was to Lewis. It was the right thing.” I paused. “I guess it's just a reminder you can do everything right and still lose.”
“Haven't lost yet. I have some faith in my cousin.”
“Yeah,” I said, though I had my doubts.
In the morning Keats dropped me at school. I saw Moody, who was back from suspension, but didn't have a run in with him. He did shoot me a look that promised he hadn't forgotten me, but I could live with that for now. I was a little surprised he would even glare at me like that, but then...not so much. He's rotten to his core and even if he was still walking a little funny would probably be thinking about nothing more than revenge. At lunch the group was almost normal, maybe still high a bit from their concert, as that was the main topic. After school I wandered out toward the parking lot, hoping I wouldn't have to walk to the garage.
So, I thought to myself. This is where you pick to fight.
“You just tell your little friend I'm looking for him,” Moody was saying to Lewis.
“Hey. Tell me yourself,” I said.
Moody turned and narrowed his eyes. “Wasn't talking about you, but you'll do.” He pulled a knife from his pocket and smiled as he opened the blade.
“Oh, hey,” Lewis said, moving Jas behind him and backing up a step. “It's not that serious, right?”
“Shut up,” Moody said, still facing me. He glanced behind him and stabbed down into Lewis's tire and then held the blade toward me. “Can't avoid me now.”
“I wasn't running,” I replied. My guts churned. I couldn't afford to throw magic around at him; that might bring Michael to the school, and that could hurt a lot of people. My best play was to fight until it got enough attention – and a little crowd was already starting to gather.
Moody took a step forward, then lunged. I jumped back, but not fast enough, as the knife tore the front of my shirt and I felt a burn along my stomach. This fuck could kill me, I thought. He lunged again, emboldened and with a terrifying grin on his face. Rather than jump back I grabbed his wrist and stepped into him, driving my knee up into his stomach. He still held the knife, so since I was close, I bashed my forehead into his face.
Ow! Fucker has a hard head! I thought, feeling giddy with fear and adrenaline. The shock of getting hit in the face loosened his grip, and I yanked the knife from his hand, cutting my palm in the process. I kicked at the knife as he recovered enough to tackle me down to the pavement.
“Moody! God bless it!” a man yelled. Moody pushed his thumb into my shoulder, and I cried out at the pressure point. I brought my knee up out of pure reaction, trying to curl away from him, but I got lucky and crushed his balls. At last he was dragged off me by a teacher and what looked like the school resource officer.
I was a little dazed as the teacher asked me if I was okay, then noticed the cut on my hand. “Ah, damn,” he said softly. “Okay, we'll need to get you stitches.” If only I could call Nick, my hand would be okay. As it was, it was starting to get really painful, and I wondered how much damage that knife had done. Moody, for his part, was snarling at me as if he wasn't getting handcuffs put on him.
“Just get me bandaged. I'll get a ride to the doctor,” I said, cradling my hand.
“Have to call home about this; not sure letting you go is a smart idea.”
Lewis helped me to stand. “Lewis. Call Keats. Tell him to have my grandpa come get me. Please.”
He nodded and called right away. It wasn't a quick call, as he had to give Keats some information, but it was done. I was escorted to the school nurse, and she applied a gauze bandage and tape for the moment. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of the throbbing in my hand or how easily I could have died – or how easily I could have fucked Moody's shit up, had I been free to cast. The craziest bit, maybe, is how fast it all happened.
As I sat I thought about how bold Moody was. There was no way he'd have gotten away without anyone seeing him, so clearly that wasn't a concern. I tried to focus on the details of the fight to distract myself from the throbbing in my hand, and a thought struck me – Moody hadn't been looking for me. So, who was he after, that he was harassing Lewis? He couldn't be so erratic as to look for another target so quickly, could he?
The door to the nurse's office opened, and Leonard appeared, with Keats behind him.
“Tilman, I only heard a little – Jesus, that bandage is soaked,” Leonard said, his voice trailing off.
“Where's Moody?” Keats snarled.
“Keats. We need to talk about that. Something wasn't right,” I said, standing up.
“Nothing about this is right,” he said, picking up my bag and putting his arm around my shoulders. “Come on. Nick's at the garage.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” I said.
The nurse gave Leonard a rundown of the first aid she'd provided and let him know the principal would speak to him when Leonard was ready, understanding medical attention for me was most important.
We went outside to the Mercedes Leonard had borrowed. Lewis was by his truck, and Keats jogged over to check on him while I got situated. He came back a minute later and sat down beside me.
“I'll come back with the tow truck. Moody flattened one of his tires. He's got rehearsal anyway,” he said. “What the fuck happened?”
I related to them the fight as I recalled it, but I was focused on what was said rather than what was done. “He wasn't looking for me. He was threatening Lewis, but I don't know why or for whom. Moody clearly didn't care about getting caught – hell there must have been twenty people that saw him with that knife.” I shook my head. “He could have come after me in school if that was his goal. Did Lewis tell you what Moody was asking him about?”
“No. I just saw his tire and asked if he was okay. He was kind of shaken up, but said he had to get to rehearsal. I told him I'd come back with the tow truck when rehearsal ended and give him a lift.”
I nodded. “Why's Nick at the garage?”
“He said something about more practice,” Keats said. He hesitated and said, “Ty was actually talking more to me. I think they saw I was kind of not thrilled to see them.”
“Yeah? How'd that go?”
“Good. It was good. Tell you later,” he said.
We pulled up to the garage and went into the office, which was full with Ty, Nick and Andrew already present.
“Oh, that looks painful. Let's get you fixed,” Nick said. He touched Ty's hand briefly and then touched my arm. Immediately I felt some relief from the pain, my hand started to itch a little, and then it was like it never happened. He pulled his hand back and I took the bandage from my hand, seeing nothing more than a small scar. I checked my stomach, although I'd kind of forgotten about it, but it was healed up as well.
“I might be able to get the scar to go away, but the cut wasn't completely fresh,” he said. “I accelerate healing, and in some ways, faster is better in terms of scarring.”
I flexed my hand. “Trust me, I'm not mad about a scar.” Looked at him. “Thank you, sincerely.”
He smiled. “No problem. I understand this was a Moody encounter?” I gave him, Ty and Andrew the run down, and Nick frowned deeply.
“I wanted to wait a bit longer, to get you more opportunity to maximize your blessing now that the bond is settling in. What do you think will happen with this Moody fellow for now?”
“Considering how bold he was, I'm not sure he's going to spend even the night in jail.” I thought for a moment. “Pretty sure he'll be expelled, so I'm probably reasonably safe at school. But then...he brought a knife there, so maybe not.”
“Til...why the fuck didn't you just freeze his balls off or something?” Andrew asked.
I turned toward him. “With Michael attracted to my casting, the last thing I wanted to do was lead him to a school.”
He lifted his chin and then nodded slowly. “Good thinking. But if that's the case...why are you casting at my home?”
“Because it's warded to make sure no one can tell he's casting there,” Keats said tiredly. “We did it last weekend while you guys had everyone to that stupid movie.”
“Wasn't stupid,” Andrew muttered.
Nick put his hands together and placed his pointer fingers to his chin. “I think I only see two options. One is we can ward the school so you can defend yourself if needed until we're ready to go after the Moodys. The second is to go right away.”
I sighed. “We don't even know what we're walking into. Every bone in my body is screaming to go break his, but....”
Nick nodded slowly. “Jay's taken an interest in drones lately. I think maybe we should have him scout the property for us so we can make a plan of attack and then move on it. Maybe before the week is out. In the meantime, we really do need to flex your blessing to its potential. Ty was going to work with you today. Do you feel up to it?”
I thought for a minute. “Later tonight. I have a water pump to put in.”
Keats let out a small laugh. “We won't have time. I have to go get Lewis in a bit and bring his truck here for tires.” He turned to his dad. “Should I bring him right over to the tire place on 2nd? Or are you going to do that here?”
Andrew thought for a moment. “I'll call Lenny over at the tire shop. I'll check with his dad, but he should probably put new shoes on that thing anyway.”
“Okay.” Looking back to me Keats said, “Well, I was going to tack the cab corner in. We have time for that before I have to go get Lewis.”
I looked to Nick. “Little later then? Is that good for you?”
He nodded and pulled a coin from his pocket. It wasn't a regular, silver colored coin nor was it gold, like treasure. Instead, it was green with copper corrosion.
“This is a port key. When you're ready, focus your blessing on it, and it will make a portal to my home.”
“Hey, uh, dumb question,” Keats said. “Nick, you say blessing, but Til says talent. Is there a difference?”
Nick shook his head. “Only in how we were taught or how we see what we can do. In practical terms, they are the same thing.” He offered me the coin.
I reached for it slowly. “This is...showing a lot of trust.”
“You haven't given me any reason to mistrust you,” Nick said. “Even though my grandmother says I am too trusting.” He lifted the coin a bit more toward me, and I accepted it, feeling the hidden power of it just waiting to be unlocked.
I nodded. “Okay. Um, okay. So we're just going to do some car stuff, then get Lewis taken care of before I come over for a bit. Is that cool?”
Nick nodded. “I'll go talk to Jay and see about getting some scouting done. I'm thinking we should move as soon as we can.”
I couldn't disagree. They left, and I walked with Keats out to the truck cab. Leonard was with us, and he was telling me how he'd gotten all the new bearings into the lower part of the engine. I liked that he said it like I had a clue what he was talking about. I wonder how many people do just that; probably where the phrase 'fake it 'till you make it' had come from.
“Okay,” Leonard said. “I'm going to call it a night. My sciatica doesn't bother me anymore since Nick fixed me up, but I'm still too old to bend over an engine all day! See you boys for dinner?”
“Yep. We'll be there after Nick's,” I replied. Leonard said something about going to annoy Andrew, and it was finally just Keats and myself.
“Well, I have a piece of metal to tack in. I thought you might want to learn to weld,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, that'd be cool,” I replied. I tilted my head. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “Yeah. I just...No, maybe not.” He looked at me and grimaced. “I don't want to sound like a little bitch here, I'm just tired of being scared all the time. When the school called and Leonard said you'd been hurt, I just...how badly were you hurt? Did you cast, and was Michael on the way? Just...so much bad shit ran through my head.”
“I understand,” I said softly. “I think maybe we should try out Nick's pond tonight. Honestly, the fight was scary as fuck, and I could use some kind of a mental break.”
A ghost of a smile graced his lips. “You sure this isn't about getting me naked in a public place?”
I grinned. “Fringe benefit.”
He snorted. “Yeah. Maybe you're right. If that thing can...ease my mind a little, that'd be nice.”
“Meantime,” I said. “What does it mean to tack something?”
He shifted, almost as if he were surprised. “Oh. Uh, so you see here where I cut out the rotted part of this cab corner? Well, I have a piece of metal to weld into it, but what you do is put a couple of tack welds in place just to hold it, and then you lay an actual bead weld to fully attach it. Then you have to grind it down smooth and then use Bondo to even it out.”
“Oh, okay.”
“This cab is pretty rough in places – you can see where there are pinholes in the door frame where we'll need to weld more,” he said, pointing to the compromised metal. “This restoration is pretty rushed, to be honest.” He looked at me. “Leonard talks a big game, but this restoration is really just getting it back to being good enough to enjoy and look good.”
“What would you have done differently? I mean if this was a complete restoration?”
“For starters, we'd have been looking for a new cab. Some places actually make parts for vintage cars – frames or panels of all kinds. Thing is, like most things to do with car repair, they cost money. A lot of money.” He patted the cab. “So we patch.”
“Oh. Well, maybe one day we'll be rich and you can afford to completely restore your wagon?”
“Yeah. And maybe pigs will fly out of my ass,” he said with a snort.
“Not that ass. It's fine. I mean it's just-”
“Okay, okay,” he said blushing.
He's so hot when he blushes.
“So, take this helmet. When you weld you need eye protection; it can damage your eyes a lot, especially over time. First you clamp the ground line to the truck body. This completes the electrical circuit so the electricity will jump from the tip of the welder to the metal, melting the wire to join the two pieces of metal. So what you do is figure out right where you want to weld, drop the mask down and start welding.” He lifted the tip of the welder. “See that wire? When you press the button it sends an arc of electricity down and the wire feeds forward so you can weld.”
“Okay! Let me see you do this,” I replied, getting the mask ready. He positioned the piece of metal to weld in place and used a clamp to hold it so he could tack weld it.
“Okay, here we go,” he said, and I covered my eyes with the mask.
“What...what the fuck? Til, I don't....”
I took the mask off and glanced from Keats to the piece of metal. “Hey. I didn't see a spark. Is the lens in this mask too dark?”
He looked at me with an expression of shock. “Til. I just...it just, I guess, welded itself? The metal...it was like liquid. It just...flowed into place.”
I stared at him for a moment and then looked at the cab corner. I ran a hand over it, feeling the small dimples and minor imperfections – and a big drip like a frozen metal tear hanging from the bottom edge of the cab. I looked back to Keats. “I...were you thinking about what this needed to look like when it was done?”
He looked at me with wide eyes and nodded. “I was thinking about the process, like I just described to you. Once you get the metal welded there is always grinding and finishing work to get it all smooth.” He swallowed. “What is going on?” he asked, his voice small.
“I think...maybe a talent is starting to manifest in you,” I said quietly. “Let's, um, test it a little.”
“A talent? Like...magic? Like you?”
I nodded, trying to gauge how he was feeling. “Yeah. Remember how Ty developed the ability to be a conduit? Maybe this is yours.”
He looked at the cab corner and licked his lips.
I was excited for him, but also feeling, through the bond, that he was freaking out. “Try touching it and thinking about smoothing out the imperfections. Instead of grinding the welds, you just want the metal smooth like it was ready for paint.”
He glanced at me and nodded slowly as he looked back to the metal. Hesitantly he reached out and touched the cab. For a moment nothing happened, but then the low spots were filled in by metal flowing into place and the frozen drip flowed up into the cab. He yanked his hand back as if burned and the whole section rippled and froze that way.
“What? Is it hot?” I asked, holding my hand near the metal. It was warm, but not hot as if welded.
He shook his head. “No, not hot. Just...the metal moving freaked me out.”
I touched his arm. “But you are in control of it. Go ahead, finish the corner.”
He gave me a hesitant smile and reached out again. Once more it took a beat, but the metal shifted and in moments the cab corner looked as it may have when it was new.
“Wow,” he said in a tiny voice.
“Wow is right,” I said with a grin.
He chuckled nervously. “I. Uh.”
“You're not this speechless unless my cock is in your mouth,” I said with a grin, trying to ease his shock.
He snorted and shook his head while smiling. “You're a piece of work,” he said.
Footsteps approached from behind us. “You guys making out instead of welding?” Andrew asked. He looked down at the cab corner and whistled before running his hand over it. “What the hell? I can't even see a weld line.”
“Just that good, Dad,” Keats said.
Andrew looked at him with justifiable suspicion. “What sort of fuckery is going on here?”
“Seems like a weird question, Dad,” I said to him, grinning.
His gaze flicked back and forth between us. He walked over to the other side and then looked back to us. “Go ahead and start this side,” he said. “I'll help you shape the metal, then you can go get Lewis.” He walked away, giving us an odd look.
I looked at Keats and he appeared to be thinking.
“You okay?”
He looked at me, and after a beat, nodded. “I think...I was just in shock. Maybe,” he shook his head, “...this is kind of nuts, but I didn't want to tell my dad. Not right away.”
Feeling anxious – or maybe picking up on something he was feeling – I asked, “Are you afraid he won't accept....”
A nervous grin spread on his face, turning into something a bit more of a smirk. “Actually, I'm still a little freaked out, but my first thought when I heard my dad's voice was not to tell him so I can pretend I weld better than he does – for a little while!” He started to snicker. Relief flooded me, and I joined him, our laughter growing more natural.
“So, make everything about a competition between you and your dad, and I win, is that what I'm hearing?”
“You're too slick as it is,” Keats replied. He glanced behind us and then walked over to a shelf. He picked up a pair of safety glasses for each of us and then picked up the angle grinder to cut the metal out with.
“Keats,” I said slowly as I thought. “Why don't you see if you can take the bad parts out without the tool?”
He paused to think for a moment and then nodded. “Okay. Worth a try, right? What does that look like, though?”
“What do you mean?”
“With the angle grinder, you're literally cutting a piece of metal out. You have to cut to the limit of where the corrosion is, but...is that what I need to do here?” He looked down at the rusted cab corner in thought.
“What if you...had the good metal pull back from the corrosion. Just...let the bad parts fall out?”
“Maybe,” he said, his voice low as he continued to look at the cab corner. “Yeah. Maybe something like that.”
He knelt down and I joined him. He reached his hand out and touched his fingers to the metal. At first nothing seemed to happen besides the metal rippling a bit, as if it were water. He pulled his hand back and thought for a moment, then put his hand back on the metal. It shifted again, smoothing out, and then a rust mote fell, then small bits of corrosion began falling down like rusty snowflakes. Soon there was a pockmarked surface with a few outright holes surrounded by clean metal.
“Holy shit,” Keats breathed out. “This is...amazing!”
I was relieved he seemed to be adjusting, and that more than anything else made me happy.
“Let me get a piece of good metal to fill in this stuff. My dad's gonna freak,” he said with a grin. He went over to a small pile of metal plates and grabbed a scrap. He excitedly came back over to the cab, took a quick glance to be sure we weren't seen, then pressed the metal to the cab and stared as he focused. Just like the other side, it took a beat for the metal to suddenly flow and fill in the gaps, taking a few stops and start before ending up with a smooth surface just like the other side.
“Do you realize what I can do with this? Restoration times just got chopped dramatically. I can fix my wagon. Stuck bolts are a thing of the past! I can...damn! I can really fix shit!” He looked at me with an excited gleam in his eyes. “Let's go get Lewis. I want my dad to wander by and see this done. Let him wonder for a little bit,” he said with a grin. I couldn't help but return his smile.
“You're so fucking sexy when you're up to shit,” I told him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, throwing his hand on the back of my neck and tugging me closer for a beat.We set the tools aside and headed for the tow truck; it was a flatbed unit, and you had to climb up a few steps to get into the cab. We headed over to the school, and Keats was so excited about the possibilities of his talent that he seemed to have forgotten why we had to go get Lewis. I decided that was okay; take joy where you can.
Once we got to the school, Keats texted Lewis to let him know we were there. He then lined the flatbed up and showed me how the hydraulic controls worked to extend the bed and then tilt it down until it bumped against the front tires. We attached the cable to let the winch do its work, then he opened the door to see if he could put it into neutral, but Lewis hadn't left the keys in it.
“Don't want to just drag it. Might damage the transmission or transfer case,” he explained.
“Which you could now fix,” I reminded him.
“Holy shit, I could!” he said with a grin.
“If you had a key, I bet you could learn how to shape it to fit any lock,” I said, thinking aloud.
“Hey, yeah,” Keats said and reached for his pocket.
“No, no, don't practice on Lewis's truck! Let's find something you can break, just in case.”
“I wouldn't break it,” he said, rolling his eyes. Our conversation was interrupted as Lewis and Jas showed up. They kissed briefly and she waved and went to another car with an older woman behind the wheel – probably her mom – since Lewis's truck was damaged.
Lewis nodded at me. “Uh. Didn't get to say, but...thanks for this afternoon. Moody is fucking scary; couldn't believe how hard you fight.”
I rubbed my chin. “I thought he was looking for me; besides, can't leave my friends hanging, can I?”
He cleared his throat. “Well. More like family. Right? Bonded and all that?”
I studied him for just a moment, shifting on his feet and seeming nervous – yet trying. I respected the hell out of him right then.
“That's right. Family.”
“Okay,” Keats said. “Hallmark moment over. Unlock your steering wheel and put the truck in neutral, Lewis – you know the drill with your POS!”
“Eat me,” Lewis replied, but went to comply.
Keats leaned in. “Told ya.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You're so smug. Way too smug.”
He just grinned and set about getting the truck up on the flatbed. Once everything was secured, we crowded into the cab and headed to the tire shop.
“Lewis, why was Moody giving you a hard time? He said he wasn't looking for me?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, I actually forgot,” Lewis said. “He was looking for Sid. I was talking to Sid at rehearsal, and he said Moody was being an asshole – big shock – and Sid asked him about wetting his pants and something about needing diapers.”
“So really, this is all your fault,” Keats said, trying to hold back a smile.
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied. “I know where you sleep.” I turned my focus back to Lewis. “So Moody's response to getting his chops busted is to try and stab someone?”
“He always acts like he's untouchable,” Lewis said. “From what I hear, the whole family is like that.”
“Well, Sid better watch himself,” Keats said. “There's a plan for dealing with this, but it's not ready yet.”
“A plan? For the Moodys?” Lewis asked, shaking his head. “That's crazy talk.” He glanced at me and then tilted his head and frowned. “Hey. I thought your hand was cut? I saw the blood.”
I cleared my throat. “I, uh, have a friend.”
Lewis stared for a moment. “You mean...more magic....people?”
“It's a big world, Lew,” Keats said, turning into the parking lot of a tire shop. “You never know what you're going to run into.”
Lewis glanced at me and smiled hesitantly. “It's so...it's a lot.”
I nodded. “I know. Take your time.” I paused. “Keats was right, though. He said to trust you.”
“I don't think I ever said that,” Keats interjected.
“Bro.” Lewis looked at Keats, and Keats just smiled and shook his head.
“Don't 'bro' me. You do some dumb shit,” Keats said, a smile twisting the corners of his mouth up.
“Me? A month in you're getting plugged by Gandalf?” He looked to me. “And you. A month and you're, like, wizard married? What kind of shit is that?”
I leaned forward to look at Keats. “I think he's over the shock.”
We climbed down from the cab, and Keats got the truck onto the pavement. Lewis paused and thanked me again for having his back that afternoon, then went inside to talk to the staff about getting his tire fixed.
“Give him a second,” Keats said. “I think it's too late to change all the tires now, so he's probably going to need a ride home.” I leaned on the truck beside Keats.
“There is something seriously wrong with Moody,” I said. “How screwed up do you have to be to go hunting someone for saying something you don't like?”
Keats snorted. “He's like a giant toddler that's never been told 'no'. So now when that happens, his response is all out of proportion.”
I thought for a moment. “That's weird though, right? I mean...if you were rich, maybe you're spoiled and you get your way, right? But from what I hear, unless they’re rolling in drug money or something, nobody's said the Moodys were rich. Are they? Does Moody have a car? He doesn't dress like he has money.”
Keats frowned. “I think he's got a car, although you cracked the block on that one down by the lake. But crazy lady was driving that one. The rest of it...I don't know. I've never gone looking for their place; not friends, so I was never invited or anything.” He paused. “Huh. You're right. Kind of doesn't make sense.”
I glanced toward the office, where I could see Lewis nodding to the guy behind the counter. “If they have money, it explains some of the behavior – maybe. But otherwise, who's getting him off the hook for the stuff he does and why? Even cops get looked at, eventually.”
“Maybe we can ask Nick. He said his friends looked at public records. Maybe we can see if there was any legal group like the district attorney looking into them or something?”
I nodded. “Good idea. If they haven't tried to stop them, that tells us something. We may not know if they looked into them and abandoned it, though. Or if it was some kind of secret.”
Lewis came back out of the building. “They're going to put new tires on it tomorrow; I guess Uncle Andrew called them. Mind dropping me at home?”
“Sure thing,” Keats said. We dropped Lewis off and then headed back to the garage. We were going to head right over to Nick's, but Andrew was waiting for us along with Leonard.
“Okay, what the fuck sticks is going on?” Andrew asked, hands on his hips.
“What? Don't you like my welding?” Keats asked smugly.
“Those cab corners look like they came off the assembly line, but no way they had patch panels welded in,” Andrew said firmly.
Keats looked at me with a little smile. “He sounds jealous, doesn't he?”
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