Brandon spoke up. “Because she’s a Ford, and because she’s too much car for you, that’s why.”
Nate whirled on him so fast, Brandon took a step back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Brandon put his hand on Nate’s arm in an effort to calm him down. “Nothing bad. Look, Nate. This morning you were talking about buying a Honda or a Nissan. Something quiet that gets good mileage.”
“Right. And you said I have the rest of my life to get a boring family car. You told me to live a little, to buy something bolder, something exciting.”
Brandon swore under his breath. “I never expected you to go from a four-door hatchback to a custom street rod.” He spoke to Lucas next. “What’s she got under the hood, Cain?”
“I took the motor out of a late model Corvette some kid smashed up. The body was a loss, but the engine was barely scratched. She’s got fuel injection and Flow Master pipes. The original transmission was a three-speed, but I converted her to four in the floor.”
Nate didn’t understand a single word Lucas had just said, but that didn’t dim his enthusiasm. “So that means it’s got a powerful engine, right?”
Lucas and Brandon both looked at him like he had an extra eyeball in the middle of his forehead. Brandon said, “Look inside her, Nate. She’s got a roll cage. This car was made for racing, not driving back and forth to work.” He turned to Lucas again. “Is that thing even street legal?”
Lucas nodded. “Barely, but yeah, she is. Technically, she would be okay for everyday use, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Nate went on the offensive. “Why not?”
“Well, she only gets about nine miles to the gallon. And then there’s this.” He walked over to the passenger side and opened the door. Nate was surprised to see that it opened towards the front of the car instead of the back. Lucas saw his confusion and said, “They’re called suicide doors. They stopped making them in the late thirties, early forties. If you see them on later model cars, they were done custom, not factory.”
Nate watched as Lucas closed the door again. “Why are they called suicide doors?”
Lucas leaned back against the body of the coupe and put one foot on the running board. “Because if the car gets up enough speed, they have a tendency to come open. The natural inclination when your car door comes open is to reach out and grab it to close it up again. In the case of suicide doors, that’s a big mistake.”
Nate had never heard any of this before, and he was absolutely enthralled. “Why would shutting the door be a mistake?”
“With a regular door, it wouldn’t, but suicide doors are different. See, with a regular door, the wind is pushing against the door and whoever’s holding it. With suicide doors, the air pressure is misdirected. The minute you grab a hold of the door, all that force is on you. If you don’t let go, it will drag you right out of the car. I’ve heard of folks being thrown out and crushed beneath the tires. That’s why they stopped making them.”
Brandon was nodding right along with Lucas, but Nate wasn’t satisfied. “There’s got to be some way to keep the doors from popping open.”
“There is. I put power locks on both doors. As long as the switch is flipped, the doors stay closed. But you have to remember to lock it each and every time or the danger’s still there.”
Nate turned to Brandon and said, “See there, Bran. Nothing to worry about.”
Brandon said, “Look, Nate, that car—” His pager went off right in the middle of what looked to be a long-winded lecture. He glanced down at the number. “It’s Sam. I left my cell in the car. Let me run out there and call in.”
Lucas pointed to a door at the other end of garage. “No need, Sheriff. I’ve got a phone in the office. Just use it.”
“Thanks, Cain. I’ll be right back. Don’t let him talk you into selling him that car while I’m gone.” He left before Nate could protest.
When Brandon was gone, Lucas said, “You really want this car, don’t you?”
Nate didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, but I don’t really understand why. To me, a car’s always been a necessity. Something you had to have to get you where you needed to go. This is the first one I’ve ever felt like I just had to have. Do you know what I mean?”
Lucas grinned. “Actually, I do. My first car was a sixty-three Chevy Impala with the top chopped and the frame lowered to about three inches off the ground. I remember telling my dad I was gonna die if I didn’t get that car.”
Nate smiled back at him. “I think I’ll live even if I don’t get this car, but I do want it, make no mistake about that. How much are you asking for her?”
Lucas said, “Forty-six thousand, firm.”
“You take checks?”
Lucas whistled. “Damn. You are serious. You know that the Sheriff is gonna stick it to me if I sell you this car, right? I won’t be able to drive through town without getting a ticket from here on out.”
Nate shook his head. “Bran likes to talk tough, but he’s really a pussycat.”
“Uh-huh. If you say so, Doc.”
For the first time, Nate noticed the wedding band on Lucas’s hand. “How does your wife feel about you restoring cars for a living? I imagine it must be pretty time consuming.”
Nate saw the pain in Lucas’s eyes before he redirected his gaze to his foot, still perched on the running board. “Myhusband thought it was great. He was as big a car nut as the Sheriff is.” He looked back at Nate. “I was widowed three years ago, not long before I moved to Reed.”
Nate said, “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to bring up any painful memories.”
Lucas shrugged. “You didn’t. It all happened a long time ago, anyway.” He switched back to business mode. “If you’re sure this car is really what you want, I’ll start the paperwork. But I want to include a thirty day trial period. If you drive it for a month and find out it isn’t what you want, bring it in and I’ll give you your money back. In fact, I won’t even cash the check until the thirty days are up.”
“That’s very generous of you. Most car salesmen aren’t so understanding.”
Lucas said, “Yeah, well that’s dealerships for you. Modern dealerships—”
Nate cut him off. “You don’t have to say it. Brandon gave me a full rundown of his opinion last night and this morning.”
Brandon came out of the office and he wasn’t smiling. “Did I just here my name?”
Nate nodded. “Cain and I were just discussing your shared philosophy on car dealerships.” He studied Brandon’s face. “What is it?”
“The DA’s office called a few minutes ago. After I talked to Sam, I called them back.” He reached out and snagged Nate’s hand. “About an hour ago, your father had a meeting with his attorney. He’s gonna plead guilty, Nate. Calder just confessed to everything.”