Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(65)
She stood back and surveyed our work. I could still make out the faint outline of a penis where we’d scrubbed and blue paint clung to the treads of the tires. I hoped there would be a healthy film of road grime to cover it up by the time we got back to the training center.
Javi returned through the back door, carrying a handful of rags and a used Goodyear tire he must have pilfered from the salvage yard. He peeled off his coat and unbuttoned his flannel, stripping down to a thin white undershirt. Vero and I stood back, giving him room. He worked fast, the dark shadows of ink on his back and shoulders visible through the fabric as he set a jack under the frame and cranked the rear of the cruiser off the floor. He stripped the blue tire off the car and rolled it aside, fitting the gently used one in its place. When he finished, he knelt beside the front panel, rubbing out the last of the blue paint. I glanced over at Vero, but she was too busy watching Javi to notice.
When he finally stood, sweat dampened his hairline and his shirt. He peeled it off, using it to catch a bead of perspiration at his temple before dropping it on the hood and reaching for his flannel. Javi was covered in ink. Hardly an inch of bare skin remained on his arms or his back, but his chest was a blank canvas with the exception of a single tattoo. A small V adorned Javi’s left pectoral, close to his heart, the tip of it just visible as he buttoned his flannel closed. It was suspiciously similar to the J on Vero’s backside.
I turned to her, drumming my fingers over my smirking lips, holding back every I told you so I badly wanted to utter.
“So what now?” Vero asked him, her cheeks flushing.
Javi used his undershirt to wipe the tire grime from his hands. “I’ll call the buyer and offer him ten percent off our original deal. Maybe I can convince him to come back.” Vero opened her mouth to protest. “Relax,” Javi said as he tossed his shirt on the workbench, “I’ll take it from my cut.”
“I don’t want any handouts from you.”
“Then what do you want, V?” He stared her down, the dark fire in his eyes mirroring the intensity in hers. She was in denial if she thought for one minute Javi didn’t still have feelings for her.
The temperature in the garage seemed to climb a few degrees. I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Javi. We’ll take whatever you can get for it.” It was almost five thirty, and we weren’t likely to avoid notice if we returned the police cruiser after sunrise. “We should get back to the training center while it’s still dark.” I nudged Vero toward the car. Before the two of them killed each other. Or kissed each other. Neither would get us back to the academy any faster. And despite Sylvia’s deadline and Vero’s persistent badgering, neither of us had time to waste rewriting our romantic dramas. We only had two more days to figure out who EasyClean was and get Feliks off our backs.
CHAPTER 24
The sunrise was little more than a promise on the horizon when we returned to the training center just before dawn. We’d pulled over a mile from the academy and I’d climbed into the trunk. Vero had propped her phone up in the front seat and I listened, breath held, as she narrated our precarious return through the gate. The officer in the booth had glanced up from his phone as our headlights approached, took one look at the roof lights, and waved us through. Vero parked the training cruiser alongside the others and helped me out of the trunk.
“You should get back to the dorm and get out of that uniform before anyone sees you wearing it,” I said, dusting myself off. It was almost seven, and I was sure a few cops would be surfacing from their rooms to squeeze in a run before class or an early morning workout. “The cafeteria should be opening in a few minutes. I’ll grab us some breakfast and meet you back in our room.”
Vero hunched into Ty’s coat, her teeth chattering and her steps brisk as she disappeared into the back door of the dormitory. I hurried toward the mess hall, dreaming about a hot cup of coffee and the possibility of a donut, grateful there was still time to shower and catch a few hours of sleep before classes were scheduled to start.
“Finlay!” My sister’s voice rang out behind me, punctuated by the patter of running feet. I turned as Delia crashed into my legs. Zach took a running leap into my arms, both of them showering me with kisses.
I held them to me, drinking them in. They were still warm from my sister’s car, and their hair smelled faintly of my mother’s kitchen. “What on earth are you two doing here?” I pressed my lips to their foreheads as my sister rolled their luggage over the sidewalk.
Delia scrunched up her nose. “You smell funny, Mommy.”
My sister dropped their bags, giving me a suspicious once-over. “What happened to you?”
I set Zach down on the sidewalk and brushed my tangled hair back from my eyes. There were pine needles in it. Thorns stuck to my coat and my shoes were covered in mud. I hid them behind my children. “Too much cold medicine,” I said. “I crashed pretty hard after the crime scene class in the woods last night. Didn’t get a shower.” My sister took a cautious step back as I faked a sniffle. I hoped it was far enough that she couldn’t smell the paint thinner on my hands. “Why aren’t the kids at Mom and Dad’s?”
“Ma called me a few hours ago. Dad’s got a kidney stone, and apparently it’s the size of a small planet. She asked me to watch the kids so she could take him to the hospital, but they admitted Dad through the ER this morning and she doesn’t want to leave him. I tried calling Steven to see if he could cover the kids, but he didn’t answer his phone. I’m scheduled to teach a class at ten, so I packed their bags and brought the little buggers with me.”