"Mary Janice Davidson - Wyndham Werewolves 03 - Derik's Bane" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

"тАФit'll cost a little more than the estimate I gave you . . . Christ, lady, take a breath, will ya?"

Sara Gunn sagged against something large and greasyтАФnot the mechanicтАФand concentrated on not
passing out. New transmission! Eighty zillion dollars to fix, and meanwhile no car for at least a week!
Now the mechanic would gouge out her eyes and make her catch up on her laundry, and the day would
be complete.

"We coulda caught it earlier if you had more than two oil changes a year," the mechanic ("Dave" was
emblazoned on his shirt pocket) said with mild reproach. "Ask me how to save on your next tire
rotation!" was on his T-shirt in migraine-inducing yellow. Sara disliked lectures from men who wore
instructions on their clothing.

"I hate bringing my car to the garage," she muttered. She could feel the clammy sweat of panic beginning
to bead between her shoulder blades.

"How come?"

"Because I always get expensive news!" she snapped. "Look. I'm sorry. I know it's not your fault. It was
a shock, and I don't handle surprises well."

"How could you be surprised? Your car's an automatic, but it doesn't change gears unless you hold the
accelerator down for at least ten seconds-тАФ"

"Well, it started okay, so I didn't think much of it."

"And the cruise control locks up on you all the timeтАФdidn't you say the car forced you through a school
zone at seventy miles an hour?"

"Hey, it was Sunday at ten o'clock at night, all right? It's not like there were kids around." He frowned at
her and she flushed. "Well, that's why I brought it in."

"M' point is, you got no cause to be shocked that it's an expensive problem. You're exactly like a gal
who finds a lump in her tit but won't go to the tit doc and then gets pissed when he tells her she has
cancer," Dave pronounced. "I see it all the time."

"First of all, that's the worst analogy I've ever heard. Second, I'm not paying you to lecture me."

"Actually, you ain't paid me at all," he pointed out with a grin. She could be cute, if you liked them rangy
and curvy and red-haired, which he surely did. "Nope, not a cent."

"Well, I'm going to, okay? Hell, your kids will go to Harvard thanks to my stupid transmission." On
"stupid," she kicked her rear left tire.

"Ha! Harvard. I coulda gone," he confided, "but I didn't want to live on the other coast."

"Trust me, it was overrated." Sara sighed and ran her fingers through her too-long bangs. If hair that
grew past your chin could be considered bangs. "Well, as long as you're doing the transmission thing, see
what you can do about the clock. It goes off when I turn on my headlights."