Page 3 of Mechanic

Turning to finally face Harlow and deciding to poke the bear a bit, I pat her cheek several times before heading for the door.

“Thanks for looking out for me, though,” I say as my parting words, speaking over my shoulder. The door closes behind me, muffling whatever retort she might have made.

Tugging my armbands on as I walk, I retrace my steps to the waitress station.

The casino floor is filled with people. Weaving my way between them, a genuine smile spreads when I spot Shawna on the floor.

“Looks like it’s going to be a busy night,” she says, falling into step next to me.

A sigh escapes my lips, and my shoulders begin to sag. The weight of my life is heavy on my shoulders.

“Let’s hope so. A night of good tips will come in handy right now,” I respond in a defeated tone.

Placing a hand on my forearm, Shawna halts our progress.

“Try and stay positive. You can move up to dealing at the tables once you finish school and get your dealer’s license.”

Standing straight and squaring my shoulders, my smile returns, and my head bobs once.

“You’re right.”

The walkie-talkie on Shawna’s hip squawks, letting her know someone needs her in the cage.

“Gotta go,” she says, already walking away. “Have a good night.”

Chapter 3

Roderick

“Sheriff, will you be able to patrol the construction site regularly?”

The past couple of weeks have been nothing but meeting after meeting. Between applying for permits to reviewing the building schematics, and attending city council meetings, it feels as if I have gotten nothing accomplished.

Currently, I am meeting with the town sheriff, Chayce Galloway.

“Mr. Sereno,” he starts.

“Roderick, please,” I interrupt. “Mr. Sereno was my father, and he was an asshole.”

The sheriff chuckles, giving me a nod.

“Alright, Roderick. Our town is, at the moment, small. We are a tight-knit group that, until recently, has had no new additions. You have nothing to be concerned with regarding our residents,” Sheriff Galloway opens and closes his mouth, pausing. He won’t meet my gaze, and after a long, pregnant pause, he speaks again, ending the awkward silence. “If it makes you feel any better, I have hired additional deputies. They will be arriving soon. Between the casino, hotel, and baseball stadium, we had no choice but to hire more help.”

The sheriff seems reluctant to admit that he had to hire people, but parts of his statement raise more questions than it gives me answers.

Chayce and I chat for a bit more, mostly exchanging pleasantries, before he gets called away, cutting our meeting short.

With some free time on my hands and my stomach growling, I head to the local bar for a quick lunch.

Gradually, the locals are warming up to me. Based on Chayce’s words, it’s not a surprise. My hope is that as the tourists start arriving in town, they become a little more friendly.

Taking a seat at the bar, the owner, Gypsy Jones, sets a small napkin on the bar top in front of me.

“What can I get you, Hon?”

Even though Gypsy’s tone is polite, her face and body language are guarded.

“Give me a draft and a hamburger, please,” I say, tossing a twenty-dollar bill down on the bar top.

---