Page 7 of Silent Night

Gabe continued, pointing out each issue with an air of. "That stack of tires over there is too high, for one thing—it's a fire hazard. Also, your fence is broken in several places, which could be considered an attractive nuisance. And I'm pretty sure that leaking oil drum is an environmental violation."

As Gabe spoke, Sheila watched the man's expression shift from annoyance to uncertainty. She could feel her own heart pounding in her chest. This was a high-stakes gamble, but she trusted her father's instincts.

"Look," Gabe said finally, putting on an amiable tone. "We don't want any trouble. We just need to see if that car is here. Let us in, and we'll forget about all those little problems."

The tattooed man's face contorted with anger as he took a menacing step forward, his eyes locked on Gabe. "Are you threatening me?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom.

Sheila instinctively stepped forward to meet him, her posture ready and alert. The man's gaze flicked over to her, and a cruel smile spread across his face. "Be careful, little lady. Wouldn't want you to chip a nail."

Gabe's expression remained calm, betraying no hint of fear or frustration. "Sheila here is an Olympic kickboxer," he said evenly. "You're welcome to try your luck."

The man dismissed Gabe's claim with a sneer. "You're lying."

Gabe simply shrugged. "You sure about that?"

As Sheila stared unflinchingly into the man's eyes, her mind raced with the possible consequences of engaging in a fight. She knew any further head trauma could be disastrous for her. But this mission – finding the truth about her mother's death – was too important for her to back down now. She steadied her breathing, mentally preparing herself for whatever might come next.

The man hesitated, his eyes darting between Sheila and Gabe as he weighed his options. After a tense few seconds, he let out a snort of indifference and took a step back. "Fine," he growled, "I don't care one way or the other." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, unlocking the gate with a loud clang.

Sheila relaxed, relieved at this sudden resolution. Gabe met her eyes and winked.

As they made their way back to the truck, Sheila couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for her father. "I'm impressed, Dad," she said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You haven't lost a step."

Gabe chuckled, a hint of his former confidence shining through. "They probably would've jumped me if you hadn't been there, Sheila. They could tell you meant business."

"You could've kicked their asses just fine without me," she said.

The truck's door creaked as Gabe pulled it open, and they climbed inside. Star sat silently in the back seat, her eyes fixed on some distant point outside the window. Gabe started the engine, and the truck rumbled to life as he steered it through the now-open gate and into the heart of the junkyard.

The early sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the heaps of discarded vehicles that sprawled out before them like the carcasses of metal giants. Rust crept up the sides of the cars, vines snaking their way through cracked windshields and empty eye sockets where headlights once shone. The air was heavy with the scent of decay, gasoline, and damp earth, making Sheila's nose wrinkle in response.

"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us," Gabe muttered, steering the truck down a narrow path between piles of twisted metal.

Sheila nodded, her eyes scanning the rows of abandoned cars, searching for any sign of the vehicle they were seeking. She knew it wouldn't be easy—this place was a graveyard of forgotten stories, each car holding the secrets of its past beneath layers of rust and grime. But somewhere among the wreckage lay the key to unlocking the truth about her mother's death, and she was determined to find it.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" she asked.

Gabe glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the path ahead. "It's an older model sedan, dark green. License plate starts with TQV."

Sheila nodded and resumed her visual search, trying to match the description to any of the cars piled haphazardly around them. How could they possibly find one specific car in this labyrinth?

"Are you sure it's going to be out here?" she asked doubtfully, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Not absolutely sure, no," Gabe said after a moment's hesitation. "I talked with someone who said it was here, but I haven't seen it for myself."

Whoever you were talking to, Sheila thought, I sure hope they knew what they were talking about.

As they continued along the dusty track, Star remained silent in the back seat. Sheila couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside the teenage girl's head. She seemed so detached from everything around her.

Then the girl spoke up suddenly, surprising Sheila. "You do realize we've passed it two times now, right?" Her voice was flat and indifferent, as if she had a thousand places she'd rather be.

"Where?" Gabe asked, startled.

"Right there." Star pointed languidly out the window at a partially concealed vehicle, its dark green paint barely visible beneath a thick layer of rust and weeds. It was stacked precariously atop several other vehicles so that it looked as though a strong wind might send it tipping over the edge.

"Good eye, Star," Sheila said, impressed by the girl's observation skills. She turned to her father, excitement sparking in her eyes. "That's got to be it, right?"

"Looks like it could be," Gabe agreed, bringing the truck to a stop. "Let's see if the license plate matches."

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