Page 7 of Mechanic

“Speaking of property,” Aymond says in an abrupt change of topic. “How is the house hunting going?”

“Bleak.”

Aymond chuckles again before quickly sobering once he realizes I’m not joking.

“Uhm, can youpossiblyelaborate on that a little?” he asks me.

“It’s weird,” I start, trying to wrap my head around the still confusing conversation I had with Sheriff Galloway.

“Weird, how?”

“Okay, so, the other night, there was a council meeting. The council is made up of six or so guys, plus the sheriff. The atmosphere was tense. No one was arguing or anything—” I try to find the correct term for the situation.

Aymond’s tone changes, doing a complete U-turn from the jokester he was a few minutes ago.

“Explain!”

My brow creases as his anger becomes palpable through the phone.

“It’s nothing I can put my finger on. When I asked them about houses for sale, they all got quiet. You could have heard a pin drop on the carpeting. The council members started tossing around phrases like pack land, den, and some other odd names. When I asked what they were talking about, they gave each other a bunch of side-eye glances. After a while, they said it was the name of different housing areas,” I explain, still confused by the odd conversation.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Aymond says in awe.

“What? What am I missing?” My voice has an urgency to it, wondering what has him say that.

“Oh,” he says. “Can you, ah, give me the number for the Sheriff’s Office?”

There is something in Aymond’s tone that I’ve never heard before.

“Yeah, I will send you his contact information,” I say warily, not understanding why he needs to call Chayce.

“Thanks, man. Listen, I gotta go. Send me that info and check that list over. If you have any questions, let me know.”

“Tha—” All of the noise cuts out, and as I pull my phone away from my ear, I stare at the screen as it displays to the home screen, confirming Aymond has hung up.

Shaking off Aymond’s odd behavior, my attention returns to blueprints and swatches.

Chapter 6

Antonia

The casino is packed tonight. One of the other girls was a no-show for her shift, so they asked me to stay. My feet hate me right now. My wallet is loving me, though. Some of the whales in the high-roller room have been tipping large tonight.

Reaching the servers’ stand to enter my new drink orders, a grim-faced Shawna approaches me.

My brow furrows. Shawna is typically a cheery person unless someone has pissed her off.

“What’s—”

“Antonia, Harlow is going to take over for you,” Shawna starts, cutting me off. “You need to come with me.”

Harlow seems subdued, her usual attitude nowhere to be found.

My eyes bounce between the two women. Warily, I hand Harlow my order pad, and she takes it while focusing on the computer.

Shawna gently grips my hand and sets my tray off to the side.

“Come with me. There’s something I need to tell you,” she begins dragging me toward the locker room.

---