"Clayton Emery - Tyger Blake - Totaled" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

I was drinking coffee and trickling transmission fluid into a LeSabre and trying not to confuse the two
when a guy blocked out the light of the bay. Extra-large all over, hands like baseball gloves, out of high
school a few years, clothes NBA-approved, eyes clear red across. He stank of cigarettes and hospital
fluids.

......"Hey, I want that car towed to my house. What'ya charge?"

......"I don't charge anything. Manny does the towing. You talkin' about the Firebird?"

......"Yeah." He shifted from foot to foot. "I want it done today."

......I didn't look up from my trickling. "It's not going anywhere. Not till the investigation's done."

......"What?" He kept looking around as if expecting a tiger to leap through a window. "Didn't the guy
come by to look? What's to see?"

......"What's your hurry?"

......That brought his chin up. "Hey. I'm Terry Sullivan."

......I glugged cold coffee. A fat fly buzzed against a window. "Susan Blake. Pleased to meet you."

......Too preoccupied to rise to bait, he bounced in place. "I need that car now."

......"What for? Even the tire valve covers are cracked."

......"The truck's right there. How come you can't do the towing?"

......"Because Manny doesn't want anyone driving his truck."

......His look said, No women, you mean. Turning on the charm, he said, "I never saw a girl working in a
garage before."

......I fired the empty fluid can into the corner, a bankshot into the trash. "I'm really a secretary. I just fool
with the engines when the phones aren't ringing."

......"Right." He turned up the cool. "Okay, so what would it really take to get that thing towed today?"

......"A court order."

......Sterling qualities exhausted, he swore at me long and hard.

......I cut him off with, "Isn't Terry a girl's name?"

......That stopped the bobbing and weaving, anyway. He stepped up alongside the car hood. I dropped
both hands as if helpless before his machismo, grabbed the handle of a thirteen-inch crescent wrench in
my leg pocket. In the corner, Bruno woke up and growled, then Fido. The three threats froze him.

......Everyone waited. Then Terry turned and stomped off, eclipsing the sun for a second.