Cruel World(118)

In the leaning garage was a car covered by a huge, white drop cloth. A stack of wide tires encircling chrome rims stood in a corner. An impressive array of mechanic tools lined the wall with some strewn about the floor. Quinn walked to the edge of the sheet covering the car and tried to tug it free, but before he could really pull, the cloth began to slide toward him, gathering speed as it went. He stepped back, drawing the revolver as it fell to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Alice said from beside him.

The car sat on blocks, its empty wheel wells giving it a skeletal look. It was low and sloping in a powerful way that struck a bell inside Quinn’s chest. Shiny, black paint covered its entire length, polished to a sheen that reflected everything in the room. A spoiler grew from the long hood and bright strips of chrome shone from the bottoms of the doors and bumpers.

“What is it?” Quinn asked, approaching the machine.

“It’s a Dodge Challenger, either a seventy or a seventy-one,” Alice said, moving forward to run her hand along a fender. “My dad was restoring one when…” Her voice trailed off, and she moved around the front of the car. She cleared her throat. “Pop the hood, will you?”

Quinn opened the heavy driver’s door and found the hood release. Alice pushed the hood up and whistled.

“That’s a three-eighty-three big block. This is a brand new engine. Look at the exhaust and the plug wires. This thing hasn’t even been out on the road yet,” she said, her words a tone of awe.

“Didn’t know you were into cars,” Quinn said.

“I’m into this car. Look at how sexy she is.”

“Mom,” Ty said from the other side of the garage.

“Sorry, honey, but this is one fine piece of craftsmanship.”

“What is this kind of car doing in a place like this?” Quinn asked, moving around the vehicle.

“I’m guessing whoever lived here was a mechanic. You’d be surprised how many of them have side projects like this.”

“But how could he afford it? You saw the inside of the house.”

“Not all of us can live on private estates in mansions, dear.”

“That’s not what I meant. I—”

“Priorities, that’s how he afforded it. He ate macaroni so he could buy the perfect carburetor.”

“Seems strange,” Quinn said, eyeing the Challenger.

“Everyone sacrifices something for what they love.” She glanced at him and then leaned into the driver’s seat. “Keys are here. Should we see if she runs?”

“Do it, mom,” Ty said. Denver woofed.

Alice twisted the key. The starter engaged, and the engine turned over with a throaty groan before catching. It chugged to life, idling loud in erratic pulses like an irregular heartbeat. Alice stood from the seat and smiled.

“It sounds like it’s running rough,” Quinn said over the throbbing engine.

“It’s supposed to. It’s been tinkered with for racing. It barely idles because it wants to fly.” She grinned. In that moment, with exhaust flowing into the close space of the garage, blood matting her hair to the side of her head, she had never looked more beautiful. That smile.

He blinked, coming back to himself. “Don’t you think it’s a little loud?”

“Some of the trucks we’ve driven have been almost as loud,” she said, stooping to turn the vehicle off. “At least with this, we’re riding in style.” She turned to Ty. “What do you think, buddy? Should we take this car or look for another one?”

“This one,” Ty said, a smile spreading across his face. “I like how it sounds.”

After checking the engine to make sure it was full of coolant and oil, they put the wheels on with a socket wrench. The interior was in rough shape, the dark leather cracked with stuffing poking through in yellow clumps. The floorboards were dirty and little strippings of wire were scattered every few inches. With nothing to put in the trunk, Quinn moved to the garage door and opened it, glancing in all directions before coming back to the car. When he got there, Alice was already in the driver’s seat.

“Nuh-uh, not today, bud. You’re riding shotgun,” she said, jerking a thumb to the seat beside her. Once he was in, she backed out and lined the car up with the open highway. The sun was apexing in the sky, the shadows nearly extinct. “I really shouldn’t do this, but what the hell,” she said.

Alice slid the shifter back. Her feet twitched beneath the dashboard, and Quinn was sucked back in his seat as the engine roared and the wide tires shrieked. They rocketed forward, and Ty let out a high peal of laughter as Alice accelerated through the gears. The landscape beside the car fled past, trees and brush only blurs, a wooden bridge there and gone. When Quinn glanced over at her, one end of her mouth was turned up in a grin.