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Chapter 4

  Denny cranked the throttle and the bike roared onto the freeway. They had exactly ninety minutes until closing time, not nearly enough to check out the half-dozen used car lots along dealer’s row in Forest Bend. Even so, he meant to cover as much ground tonight as possible.

  Meg sat behind him, rigid as a post, wearing a dark leather jacket and his spare helmet. For someone who swore she held no fear of motorcycles, she sure seemed nervous.

  He couldn’t help but stare when she walked out of her bedroom wearing skin-tight jeans and that sparkly tee-shirt. He definitely liked what he saw and meant to compliment her, though he never got the opportunity. Having a ten-pound cat pounce on his chest at the same time stole his thunder, not to mention his breath!

  Up ahead, the Forest Bend overpass loomed across the horizon. He signaled and exited the freeway, taking the service road to Chik’s Auto Mall.

  The ‘mall’ consisted of an asphalt lot, a dozen rows of late model cars and a small, white trailer used for an office. Denny drove up and parked the bike. Once their feet touched solid ground, he helped Meg slip out of her jacket before peeling off his own and stuffing them both into the saddlebags.

  They wandered through the lot, gazing at cars of all sizes, shapes and colors.

  “See anything you like?” Denny paused as a sudden sneeze overtook him. He looked down and saw frizzy white hairs decorating the front of his shirt.

  “Definitely!” Sounding smitten, Meg hurried over to a fiery-red Ford. “Wow. What a cool car.”

  “You’ve got that right.” Denny slipped his hands into his pockets and followed her. “It’s a Mustang.” He peered through the driver’s side window. “It’s got a lot of nice options. H-m-m-m...it’s a five-speed, too.”

  At that moment, the infamous Chik himself decided to make an appearance. He stepped out of the trailer and moseyed toward them wearing a tan suit and a tie the color of dirty motor oil. “Evenin’, folks,” he said in a raspy voice.

  Looking the backside of fifty, he sported thinning hair, a blunt-featured face and smelled like nicotine. A slight paunch bulged atop his silver dollar belt buckle, probably from munching on too many jelly doughnuts in his spare time.

  “Evening,” Denny and Meg replied simultaneously.

  Chik nodded toward the Ford. “Just got ‘er in this mornin’. She’s fully loaded—cruise, tilt, CD player and power everything. I’ll give ya a good deal.”

  “We’ll see,” Denny countered gruffly, shifting into his bargaining mode. Used-car lots in Minnesota were dime a dozen and most went out of business almost as fast as they started up. Chik reputedly stayed afloat because he knew how to talk people out of their money. Only this time he’d met his match. Denny stood ramrod straight and stared Chik in the eye. “What’s your asking price?”

  “Fifteen Thousand.”

  “Too much.” Denny grunted out the words and circled the car, examining it as though it was a piece of junk.

  Chik never missed a beat. Instead, he lifted the hood. “She’s pretty clean. Got a V-6 with low miles.” He produced a set of keys attached to a cardboard tag and unlocked the door. “Go ahead, little lady,” he said to Meg. “Start ‘er up.” He opened the door and offered Meg the keys. She slid into the white velour seat, fitting as though it had been custom made for her. The car started at the turn of the ignition, humming softly.

  Chik ran his fingers across the paint. “They call this here color ‘lipstick red.’ You like it?”

  “Do I ever.” Meg glanced longingly around the car’s plush interior. “It’s too expensive for my budget, though.” She looked up at him with disappointment. “I’ve got house payments.”

  Chik grinned triumphantly, as though Meg had begged him to sell it to her. He turned to Denny. “She likes it. C’mon, let’s go up to the shack and work out the financing.”

  Denny cocked his ear to listen to the engine. “We’re not ready to make any deals yet. Sounds like it’s missing once in a while.”

  Chik shook his head. “Had my best mechanic check her out.” He leaned over the engine to listen. “Said them fuel injectors are like new. Matter of fact,” Chik straightened and shut the hood, “he talked about picking up this one for himself.”

  Denny knelt, pointing to a dark spot under the car. “Look at that.” He took a sample, rubbing the oily substance between his fingers. The spot could have been there for a week, but he wouldn’t admit that in a million years. What, and lose his edge in this deal?

  “It’s too thick to be fresh,” Chik argued, calling his bluff. “Probably came from the station wagon that I sold last Thursday.”

  Chik walked around the hood, stood next to the open car door and stared down at Meg. “You look good in this car. You like lookin’ good in this car?” He turned to Denny. “She likes lookin’ good in this car. I’ll take fourteen-nine for it.”

  “Only a hundred bucks off?” Denny threw his hands in the air, pretending to be insulted. “This thing has dents! Scratches! Dings on the doors! She’s probably going to have to repaint it. We’ll give you twelve.”

  Chik shook his head, countering with an incredulous laugh. “C’mon, man. I gotta make some money on this deal. You’re trying to bust my bank. Fourteen-eight.”

  Denny shoved his hands on his hips. “The car already has thirty thousand miles on it. Pretty soon it’s going to need new brakes and tranny maintenance. I’ll give you twelve-five.”

  Meg turned off the car and slid out. Chik zeroed in on her by planting his face squarely in front of hers. “You want this car, don’t you?”

  Meg started to reply, but before she could speak, Denny eased himself between them and slid his arm around her. “Don’t answer that,” he whispered in her ear. Coconut scented shampoo filled his head and for a moment, he forgot all about the Mustang. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her close.

  Her lips parted slightly as she gazed into his eyes.

  Denny swallowed hard, knowing he should pay attention to Chik, but somehow he just couldn’t let the moment slip away.

  Chik slapped his hand on Denny’s shoulder, forcing him back to reality. “See, she wants this car, and we both know that what the little lady wants, the little lady must get, right? I’ll sacrifice it for fourteen-seven.”

  Denny felt like telling Chik that the little lady wanted to see his lights punched out, but flashed his best killer smile instead. “Thirteen thousand or no deal.”

  Chik grimaced and emitted a groan, as though he’d just received a beating. “Fourteen-five. That’s the best I can go.”

  “We’ll think about it.” Denny turned his back on the salesman. “Come on, little lady.” He strolled toward his motorcycle with Meg still at his side. He sniffled. Some of that cat hair seemed to have gotten up his nose.

  Meg stared up at him. “What was that all about?”

  Denny grinned with satisfaction. “About the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” He let go of his grip on her and opened a saddlebag. “C’mon,” he said as he pulled out her jacket, “let’s go find the next dealer and do it again.”