face of Duncan Bishop. His father’s son. The same look. No neatly trimmed beard or white hair, but the strong features, the dark-as-night eyes and a size that seemed almost overwhelming. He turned to the window, exposing his profile and a peculiar arrogance in the way he held his jaw. Like his father. But the rough clothes weren’t like D.R.’s expensive, tailored suits, and for him to be standing in front of a gas station waiting for help wasn’t like his father at all.
Lauren turned to the light and saw the office was just a small room, cut in two from side to side by a scarred counter, and with walls lined with oils and greases and small car parts. A single figure was coming around the counter, a man of medium height, unremarkable in greasy overalls and with little hair on his head. He squinted at the three of them through the hazy glass, then reached for the door and unlocked it.
“Duncan? What’s going on?” he asked as the barrier swung open.
“I almost went off the road back down the way near Elder’s Curve. It tore up my tire and cut into the side of the car.”
“An accident?” he asked as his gaze flicked from Annie to Lauren, then back to Duncan. “Are you all okay?”
“We’re fine, Rollie,” Annie said for all three of them. “And I’m late.” She looked at Duncan. “I’ll get my bag out of the car and walk on home. Thanks for an interesting trip.”
He nodded. “I’ll be along as soon as I take care of this.”
Annie touched Lauren on the arm. “Nice running into you,” she said, then realized what she’d said and laughed out loud. “Didn’t mean that,” she said. “But it was nice meeting you.”
She went back to the idling car, got her bag out, then with a wave, she took off down the street. “I should have driven her,” Lauren said.
“She’s not going far,” Rollie said. “She’s used to Silver Creek. Been here all her life.” He looked to Lauren again, then past her to her car. “This car was in an accident?”
“No, I swerved to miss hitting it, and went off the road,” Duncan said.
Rollie went toward the car, reached out and touched the fender reverently. Then he grinned back at Duncan. “Well, damn it, man, aren’t we all thankful you didn’t scratch her up? What a beauty,” he said in a low voice, then leaned down as if listening to the engine. “She’s got a V-8, overhead, don’t she?” he asked Lauren as he straightened up.
“Completely rebuilt,” Lauren said.
He stood back. “Not original paint, is it?”
“No, it’s redone.”
He emitted a low whistle as he slowly circled the car. “Great job.” He came back around to where they stood in the cold. “Where’d you get her?” he asked Lauren.
“My uncle bought it new, and my brother restored it a year or so ago.”
“He’s a gifted man,” Rollie said.
“Rollie,” Duncan said, interrupting the man’s rapture over the car. “Do you think you can tear yourself away to get the tire?”
“Oh, yeah,” Rollie said, as if he’d forgotten Duncan existed for a moment. “You coming with me?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, give me a minute, and I’ll be right out,” Rollie said. But he didn’t go inside right away. Instead, he looked back to Lauren. “You want to sell that baby?”
“No, I sure don’t,” she said.
“Then you take good care of her, hear?” he said, and headed right back inside.
She was thankful Annie had taken off, but now Duncan was about to leave, too, to get his car. She looked at him and was taken aback to find the shadow of a smile playing at the corners of his wide mouth. “I think Rollie’s in love.”
Rollie returned before she could absorb the expression on Duncan’s face. Before she could be sure if she saw a faint dimple to one side of his mouth. Rollie hurried out, closed the door and tugged his heavy coat around him. “Okay, let’s hit the road,” he said to Duncan.
“Okay,” Duncan said, then both men were going past the service bays and rounding the corner. Duncan looked back at Lauren with a wave and called, “Thanks,” then was gone.
She didn’t move. She listened, heard doors open and close, then a big engine roar to life. In a moment a huge pickup truck lumbered into view. She could barely make out the shadows of the two men in the cab, then the truck turned onto the street heading back the way she’d just come.
That was that, at least for now. She hurried to the idling car, drove it back onto the main street and headed north. She went one block, parked and looked at Rusty’s Diner. It was time to formulate a new plan. And there was only one thing she could think of to do now.
Chapter Four
It took Duncan an hour to get the tire changed on the SUV, take off some loose metal and drive it back to town. He passed Rollie in the old pickup, hit his horn to thank him again for his trouble, then continued driving to the hotel. He parked in an open spot in front, ran in to clean up, made sure Annie got back okay and gave her the luggage, then headed out again. He left the car parked where it was and walked south, heading for the diner.
And while he walked, he found himself looking at every passing car, in search of Lauren’s old car. He didn’t see it anywhere, and he wondered if she’d just driven on through and kept going. She didn’t seem as if she could afford to stay at the inn, and she hadn’t said whether she skied, but without any snow, that didn’t matter.
He crossed the street and stepped into the diner, generally noticed it wasn’t very busy before he went down the side hallway to the office. The door was ajar. He went in and found Rusty at the desk going over cash register tapes. The older man looked up, the glasses he had to use for reading perched on the end of his nose. “Well, damn, where’ve you been, boy? You said five and it’s going on seven. You had me worried.”
“Sorry, I had a flat tire, and no spare. Rollie took care of it for me,” he said.
“Another flat?” Rusty asked.
“Yeah, another flat.”
Rusty sat back in the chair in the small, cluttered office. The only window was covered with a red-checked curtain, and filing cabinets crowded most of the wall space. Rusty clasped his hands on his stomach. “Any snow out there?”
He shook his head. “No. What’s the forecast?”
“Possible snow tonight. If not, by tomorrow sometime. Can’t be soon enough for me.”
Duncan handed the envelope out to him. “I saw Webb and he cut us a great deal.” While Rusty opened it and scanned the figures, Duncan said, “That’ll cut twenty-five percent off per quarter.”
“I can’t thank you enough for this,” Rusty said and laid the papers on top of the tapes. “The day you walked in here was my lucky day.”
“For both of us,” he said.
“Thanks.” He exhaled. “I needed good news today.”
“What’s going on?” Duncan asked as he shrugged out of his heavy jacket and hung it on a hook by the door.
“The grill’s acting up again, Shannon, the morning waitress, her kid’s misbehaving, so she’ll be off for at least a week.” He exhaled. “I knew there was a reason I never had any of those little humans.”
Duncan tugged off his watch cap and stuffed it in the pocket of his hanging jacket. “What about Arlene?”
“She can’t pull too many double shifts. Damn, she’s near my age.” He stood. “Don’t you go worrying, though. I had one stroke