Page 31 of PenPal Hero

He was currently using a small card table for his desk. A black folding chair rested on one side of it. He plopped wearily into it and opened his laptop. Pulling up a blank email, he addressed it to Foster and copied it to Foster’s partner, Lyon.

Completed a black cherry paint job on a 1967 classic Corvette.

Added a spoiler to an electric blue 1965 Mustang, plus twin white racing stripes down the hood. Detailed interior and steam cleaned the bumpers and running boards.

Installed a lift kit to a silver 2000 Dodge Ram pickup truck.

Owner of all three vehicles is Jett Briggs of Briggs Auto Plaza.

Prepped the windows of a white 2016 Mazda Miata for tinting in the morning for a college kid named Eric Benson. He’s from Houston, visiting his uncle for the summer. About to head back to college in a few days.

Met one of Jett’s salesmen today, Remy Peters. New guy from Galveston. Got dropped off to pick up the Mustang and drive it back to the lot. Knew Jett from a used car business he owned on the coast about five years ago. They come across more like friends than an employer and employee.

My girlfriend and sister drove by to bring me some lunch. Met Remy. Bonnie pulled me aside to tell me he creeped her out. Didn’t say why. I’ll ask more about it when I see her this evening.

Also found out that Jett’s sales team pops in pretty regularly at the auto parts stores on highway 385 and West Park Avenue. Stores aren’t affiliated. I checked.

Holt grimaced as he pushed send. He wasn’t sure if his daily reports were helping with the car theft case or not.

Foster usually just sent him a thumbs up at some point. This time, however, he shot back a question: Mind sharing the VINs on the three sports cars?

It was a request Holt hadn’t been expecting, but it was an easy one to answer. He started typing again: Here you go. He had to run back to the shop to pull the order tickets, but it didn’t take long to add the requested numbers to his email. Right afterward, he closed his laptop to clean up and change for dinner.

A text from Bonnie was waiting for him when he emerged from the shower.

Alice and I are making a grocery stop on our way to Z’s. They want us to join them for a BBQ. You in?

Of course, Holt was in! His mouth watered just thinking about it as he sent her a YES in all caps. The Z in Bonnie’s message stood for Zayden, Alice’s fiancé. And, boy, could that guy grill! He was a cop who’d relocated from Dallas so he could marry Alice, serve on the local police force, and raise cattle. They were planning a September wedding.

Zayden was working like crazy to finish the renovations on his old homestead before the wedding. He’d paid for a new roof, replaced the HVAC system, and ordered all new appliances. The place was steadily transforming into his and Alice’s dream home.

Bonnie was helping by continuing to rent one of Zayden’s tiny houses. Unfortunately, her relationship with her family was still strained — not because she didn’t love them, but they’d hurt her deeply by all the secrecy surrounding her adoption. So far, she hadn’t reached out to the couple claiming to be her birth parents. She was waiting for K&G Security to finish verifying their identities first. It was turning out to be a difficult task, since Greg and Bonita Williamson lived off the grid. No permanent address. No registered vehicles. No driver’s licenses.

Nothing at all suspicious about that!

While Holt tugged a t-shirt over his head, his cell phone vibrated with an incoming call. Hoping it was Bonnie, he smoothed his shirt into place and snatched up his phone.

“Hello?”

“Got a sec?” It was Foster.

“Yep.” Holt’s attention sharpened. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll say! You’ve given us a solid lead on the case.”

“I have?” Holt’s eyebrows shot upward as he waited for more details.

None came. “How soon can we meet up in person to discuss it?”

“Oh! Eh…” Holt’s mind raced. “My sister and future brother-in-law invited Bonnie and me over for a BBQ this evening.”

“At the old Parker homestead?” Foster inquired.

“That’s the place.”

“I can meet you there in half an hour or so.” Foster paused. “Sound okay to you?”

“Um, sure. Why not?” He debated inviting him to stay for dinner. “I’ll tell ‘em it’s bring-your-boss-to-dinner day.”

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