In the Hour of Crows by Dana Elmendorf

Author:Dana Elmendorf
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA Books
Published: 2024-04-16T15:53:29+00:00

THIRTEEN

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

“What in the hell do these crazy riddles have to do with anything?” Davis shoves himself out from under Miss Belinda Jones’s jacked-up bumper with a smooth roll on the mechanic dolly. Grease smears across his forehead. Black stains his rough-hewn fingers. He stretches open his palm toward the rubber mallet. I hand it to him.

“I don’t exactly know yet. But they have to mean something.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well—”

“Oh, hey,” he interrupts. “I almost forgot. Wyatt called here looking for you.” His tone drops a bit. “He said Violet wants you to bring Adaire’s car to the Watering Hole tonight. She’s got a buyer.”

“Awesome,” I grumble, as I’ll now be without a reliable set of wheels since I still don’t have enough cash to fix my car. Davis slides himself back under.

Harvey’s Metal Boneyard is a giant corrugated shed stuffed full of rusty parts, stacks of old tires, and a hoard of outdated equipment. The Yancey’s junkyard garage used to be the main place you could get car parts before they opened the auto store over in Mercer. Pick what you needed from the lot, and Mr. Harvey would work his magic. After Davis’s father passed, he resigned himself to the fact that as the third generation Yancey, he would have to take over the family business. But Adaire, to Mrs. Yancey’s approval, convinced Davis he was too smart to spend his life as a grease monkey in a dying junkyard business, not with his love for science and medicine. Next to the greasy tools and soda cooler against the wall are Davis’s EMT-training books. During the day, he works on cars and in night school, he learns how to work on bodies. I’m pretty sure his final exams are coming soon. Something I don’t want to think about.

Hanging on the wall between the screwdrivers and wrenches is Blue’s old collar. Adaire and I had no idea that the dog we saved that day would find a home for many years with her future sweetheart. That dog was a good boy, once he got used to you.

As my eyes scan the room, they settle on a package, unopened, beneath Davis’s textbooks. I slide the books slightly to the side. The package doesn’t say who it’s from, but I don’t need to know because I recognize Adaire’s handwriting. A sweet pink ribbon ties the bundle up tight. Davis’s greasy fingerprints patter all over the outside of it, probably from the many times he’s picked it up, ready to open it, only to change his mind. Maybe he should save it for his birthday next year, a belated present.

The old diner bar stool creaks when I sit on it. I hold a cold Orange Crush bottle against my throbbing cheek and tell him the rest of my Gabby adventure.

Davis rolls out from underneath the car and pins me with a scrutinizing look. “Gabby said she got the glass droplet from a dead deer. What’s that got to do with Adaire?” His voice edges with anger.

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