A faint, cold sensation of unease began to settle in my chest as I watched her go.
The autumn sun was setting by five o’clock when I walked back down the driveway toward the detached workshop behind the house.
A man in a dark jacket was standing near the curb, leaning over the low chain-link fence to look at the workshop windows.
He held a blue cloth in his hand, which he used to wipe his grease-stained fingers as he stared.
I recognized him as Raymond, the assistant from the local transport garage who occasionally helped my father move heavy parts.
“Raymond?” I called out, slowing my pace as I neared the edge of the yard.
He startled, quickly pocketing the blue cloth and stepping back toward the street. “Just looking, Miss Gail,” he said, his voice a polite, quiet drawl. “Your dad had a fine machine in there.”
“Have you seen my father’s keys lately, Raymond?” I asked.
“Can’t say I have,” he said, looking down at his boots. “I should be getting back to the shop.
“Did my father ask you to do some work on the car recently?” I asked, taking another step closer.
“No, ma’am,” Raymond said, his eyes scanning the driveway behind me. “My boss, Mr. Miller, just wanted me to check if the vehicle was still on the property.”
“Why would your boss care about the Shelby?” I asked, pausing to let him answer.
Raymond wiped his hands again, his face turning slightly red under the streetlamp. “He said someone called about transport services. I don’t know the details, Miss Gail. I just do what I’m told.”
“Who called him, Raymond?”
“He didn’t say,” Raymond muttered, stepping off the curb. “I have to get home to my kids. My shift ended an hour ago.”
Before I could ask him anything else, he turned and walked quickly down the sidewalk, disappearing around the corner.
I stood in the driveway for a long moment, the cold wind rustling the damp leaves near my feet.
The silence of the yard felt heavier now, filled with questions I could not answer.
I walked back inside the house, the quiet of the empty kitchen greeting me as I closed the heavy door.
