1980: You Shook Me All Night Long (Love in the 80s #1) (6 page)

O
fficer Walker
, as he introduced himself politely, drove quietly to the police station that we’d been held in just hours before. He led me inside. The mess and damage from the earthquake was barely visible now. They had picked up all of the paper littering the aisles between desks and cubicles. All of the overturned file cabinets were upright and clerks were hard at work re-filing all of the upset documents.

Walker removed my handcuffs when we stepped inside a tiny four foot-by-four foot room. A simple wooden veneer table and two chairs on opposite sides were all that was inside. A tiny window near the ceiling, complete with bars let some of the morning light in. I rubbed my wrists. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

“Officer Walker?”

“Ma’am?”

“How much trouble am I in?”

He pursed his lips. “A lot. If you cooperate, it would be in your best interest, but I can’t tell you that officially.”

I smiled. He was young, barely older than me, with blonde hair that curled at the ends despite the short buzz cut he sported. “If I may say so, ma’am. You deserve better than a guy who’d make you do something like that.”

He didn’t make me do anything.

I nodded and watched as Officer Walker shut the door and paused outside to lock me inside. I plopped into the chair opposite the door and waited. And waited.... and waited.

W
ith folded
arms resting on the tiny table, I nodded off. The sound of Hammond’s keys in the door woke me. His interrogation was ridiculous. What did what I had for breakfast have to do with anything at all? But he was determined to leave no stone unturned. I kept my arms crossed, sitting as far back in my seat as I could as he chomped through five more doughnuts, littering the table with crumbs and droplets of spilt coffee. Gross.

My head hurt from lack of caffeine. My stomach growled from hunger and Hammond wouldn’t even let me go to the bathroom. This was torture. I needed to pee. “Can I please go to the restroom?”

“When we’re finished, you can.”

“I think I started my period and I—”

Hammond raised his hand up. His arm was so long it almost smacked into my nose. “Say no more. You can go, but you come right back here. Got it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir,” he corrected.

I didn’t repeat him, but I did follow him down the hallway to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face and gulped it from my cupped hands. Gripping the edges of the sink, I looked at my running makeup and sighed. I pushed away from the mirror and met Hammond in the hallway. Back into the tiny room we went.

H
ammond asked
me every question in the book. When it was clear that I wasn’t talking, he left the room, flexing his pecs and slamming the door in what was effectively a temper tantrum. I’d seen Joey have those. Hell, the boy still lost his shit sometimes.

I grinned, threading my hands behind my head. Tipping the front chair legs up, I teetered on the back ones. “Don’t I get a phone call?” I hollered.

I’d asked Hammond for one and he ignored the question, which was pretty much illegal.

“Can I call my attorney?”

The door opened and a young cop stepped in. The name badge pinned to his chest read “Walker.”

“You lawyering up?” he asked pointedly. Finally, no bullshit.

“Are you actually willing to listen instead of point the finger at me?”

He smiled. “Hammond’s old school.”

“Are you his partner?” Maybe Walker was good cop. Hammond was bad. He’d eaten three donuts in front of me. My stomach was eating itself. I was a breakfast man.

“We all work together here, but no. Chen is his partner. He’s on vacation this week, though. You want to tell me how this all went down? How’d you get the Firebird?”

I sat the front chair legs down with a thump. “I run a garage across town. I rent a space and work out of the garage at my house on the weekend. Early Friday morning, Todd Armistead shows up, tells me to fix it quick. I’d done business with him a few times before, always on imports, but I don’t get paid to ask questions. I get paid to fix cars. He wanted it back that day, but I told him it would take awhile. He said he’d be back first thing Monday, warned me not to drive it other than to see if she was fixed and then he walked away.”

Walker pulled out the chair across from me, the legs scooting across the floor. The smell of bacon wafted from his clothing making my mouth water. I’d chew on his sleeve at this point.

“How’d you come to drive it Friday night?”

“My brother took my car. He was picking a girl up for some concert at USC and wanted a ride. We only have the one, so we share. There was some kind of fight at the concert and he was hauled in with a bunch of other kids until the police could figure out who caused the whole thing. Officer Hammond called me a few hours later, told me to come down to the station.”

“Hammond called you?” Walker’s brows knitted together. He looked my age.

“Yeah.”

“Joey didn’t speak with you?”

I shook my head. “No, it was Hammond. He said to come to the station, gave me the address and hung up the phone. I freaked out and decided to take the Firebird to get him.”

Walker jotted notes down in a little notebook, his tongue sticking out of his lips as he concentrated. “Interesting.”

“What is?”

“Nothing,” he said, looking up with a smile. “Let me do some digging on this Armistead guy. You need a bite to eat?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Hold tight.” He stood up and scooted his chair back in before turning to the door. Within ten minutes, I had a full plate of heavenly-smelling breakfast in front of me: eggs, bacon, hash browns, biscuit, coffee and orange juice.

Very interesting indeed.

W
alker came back
in as I wiped my mouth with the paper napkin. I looked up at him and the man behind him, who was dressed in a suit and tie.

“This is Lieutenant Garrison.”

“Hello.”

Garrison nodded, his stark-white hair buzzed to perfection. “We have a deal for you to consider.”

Walker eased the door closed behind them. “Turns out Armistead is an alias for Michael Crane. Crane’s big time. We bring him down and we cut the car theft industry in this city in half.”

Garrison nodded. “Cut the head off the snake and he’ll die.”

My eyebrows shot up. “He’s that big?”

Walker and Garrison confirmed with grunts and nods. “Why’d he choose me and why’d he come himself?”

“You’re new in town.” That was their only theory. I didn’t know him, couldn’t identify him and wouldn’t know he was the biggest smuggler of stolen automobiles on the west coast at the time. Holy shit. If the cops didn’t give me a heart attack, Armistead or Crane or whoever he was would shoot my ass.

“I’ll do what you ask, but you have to promise me one thing,” I told them.

“What’s that?” Garrison asked.

“Joey and Tina have no record. Everything is wiped away. And you keep them safe. If something goes wrong, I’m the only one at risk.”

Garrison pursed his lips. “Done.”

“So, what do I have to do?”

T
he old cop was intimidating
. He looked more like a military general than a lieutenant or whatever Walker said he was.

“Luke is going to cooperate,” Garrison said. “Can we count on you to provide a distraction?”

“What will I have to do?”

“Dress like that and use your womanly wiles to keep Crane’s focus on you instead of on Luke or the car.”

I picked at my cuticle nervously, wincing when I’d made the skin bleed. “I can do that.”
I think.
“Luke knows I’m going to help?”

“It would be best if he didn’t. You’ll be able to distract them both, buy us time to slip up on Crane. That way Luke won’t be in harm’s way any longer than necessary.”

I stared at him for a long moment. He looked frazzled.

“So, you’ll help us?” he asked.

“That depends. Will you erase this entire incident from my record and from Luke’s?”

Lieutenant Garrison huffed and crossed his arms. “Young lady, you stole a set of keys from with a police precinct, got into a car with a boy you barely knew and ran all over town leading one of my officers on a wild goose chase.”

I looked at my fingernails. My neon-orange nail paint was chipped. “I know. I’m sorry. It was stupid and I made a bad decision. But I don’t want to lose my scholarship.... or my life, because of one youthful indiscretion.” I forced tears to the surface.

“Aw, shit, Garrison. You made her cry,” Walker said softly, extending a tissue to me. I took it and blew my nose loudly making a honking sound like a goose. Then, I hiccupped to drive it home.

“I’m sorry,” Garrison said, barely audible. “You cooperate and I’ll make sure that Friday never happened.”

“Okay,” I sniffled. “Promise?”

He smiled and patted my shoulder awkwardly. “I promise.”

“I’ll do it.”

Suckas!

W
hen Officer Walker
dropped me off in front of my dorm, I was spent. Somehow, I trudged across the lawn, made it to the sidewalk and then the steps. I even made it up three flights of stairs to my room. A gray tube sock with bright red strips hung on the doorknob
. Oh, hell no!

I banged on the door. “Georgia.”

“Don’t you see the sock?” she shrieked.

“I’m coming in.” I slid my key into the lock and turned. Inside was a flurry of flinging blankets, sheets and clothing.

“Ohmigod, Tina! This is so not cool.”

“Not cool?” I screamed. “Not cool? Let me tell you what’s really not cool.” I picked up the matching stanky sock and threw it at her shocked face. I was surprised it didn’t get caught in her big fat, gaping mouth. “I spent the night in jail because you left me. You weren’t here when I called. But obviously, you were too busy.”

Grabbing a pair of guy’s jeans, I hurdled them at the large lump beneath the sheets. “Get up and get out of my room,” I demanded.

It wasn’t Mark or Rick under the covers. I wasn’t sure who the redhead was but I was going to rip his balls off if he didn’t evacuate the premises.

Georgia stumbled off the bed, clutching a pillow to her torso, covering the bits I was thankful not to see.

“So modest now? I’m pretty sure everyone at USC and beyond has seen what you have to offer, you slut!”

“Slut?”

“You were with Mark last night. You sicced nasty Rick on me and then ran off. Did you think to check campus for me? Call the police? Oh, no, you were busy screwing.” I paused and swept an arm toward carrot-top. “What’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“Adam. You were screwing Adam.” The irony. She didn’t know him from...Adam. Georgia was no friend. She’d tried to mold me into something I wasn’t and I let her. I’d freaking let her. I wore the clothes she pushed into my hands, let her make my hair into a nasty nest and was cutting classes with her for the past two weeks. She was totally awful. And I wanted rid of her now.

“Get out.” I threw a shirt at Adam, who was shrugging on the jeans beneath the comforter. He stood and pulled the t-shirt over his head, hopping on one foot to put his sock on. “The other one’s on the door!”

Adam found one shoe under the bed and looked around for the other. “Leave it,” I yelled. “Get out of here, now, before I call campus security.”

“Catch ya later, Georgia,” he tossed over his shoulder, keeping his eyes trained on me and his hands up in surrender.

“Not likely, buddy.” I slammed the door behind him as Georgia shrieked and stomped her foot behind me.

I raised a finger. “Not a word! Get dressed and get out. I’m going to talk to someone about a room change for you.”

Her eyes bulged out of her head. “For
me
?”

“Yep. Now go. I don’t want to even look at you.”

“Whatever, Tina. No one wants to look at you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be a nobody. You are a nobody. No one will like want to be your friend after they hear how you’ve treated me. I took you under my wing!”

“It stinks.”

Georgia cocked her head in confusion.

“Beneath your wing. It stinks being there. I don’t ever want to be there again. I don’t need friends who can’t accept me for who I am.”

“Oh,” she jutted her bony hip out. “And who is that exactly?”

“A geek. An accounting major who loves numbers and hates coffee.” Georgia gasped. She’d been bringing me coffee every morning for the past two weeks. She never even asked how I took mine or if I liked it. She just assumed that I should be her mirror image. Well, I was done reflecting that mess.

Luckily, said mess dressed quickly. She grabbed her purse and keys and huffed her way out of the room. “Good riddance!” I yelled after her.

M
onday morning came too fast
. Luckily, a student had moved out earlier in the week and Georgia was able to move in with a new victim. Sunday had been fun. I’d done my homework, which I was way too far behind on, while she slammed her junk into a bunch of cardboard boxes. Like I was helping? I think not.

Sunday night, I’d slept like a baby, not interrupted by the buzz saw snoring of Miss Priss. But I’d awoken Monday before my alarm, the nerves setting in. It was time to get ready and call a cab.

I dressed exactly how Walker told me to, making good use of the short shorts, a bikini top and fishnet shirt that I found in the bottom of my closet. It was Georgia’s obviously, but she’d left it so I was using it. One chunky necklace and a helluva bunch of hairspray and I was ready. I grabbed my bag and the address, scrawled onto a tiny piece of ripped paper.

The cab was waiting outside the dorm. I ignored the catcalls from losers who liked girls like Georgia. I might look like her, but I wasn’t going to act like her. Shoving the paper through the hole in the glass, I asked the Cabbie to step on it. And he did. He totally did. His driving made me forget about the giant pile of poo I was about to step in to at Luke’s garage.

I’d seen his house, seen his garage and all of his mechanical things, but it did not prepare me for the beauty of seeing a man like Luke working in his natural habitat. It was a thing of beauty. I paid the cabbie as he idled in front of the shop. A simple red and white sign out front read: “Luke’s Garage.”

There were two garage doors. One was closed, but I could see a car inside. The other was open and the Firebird was parked in there. Luke hovered over the engine, wiping a piece of metal off with a rag.

When I slammed the cab’s door closed, he turned to see who was approaching, shielding his eyes with his hand. The hand slowly sank to his side as he raked his eyes over me. My skin flushed and I could feel goose bumps popping up all over despite the warm, west coast sun that warmed my back.

“Hey,” I said.
Totally lame.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, crossing the parking lot to drag me inside the garage.

“Ow, excuse me! Get your dirty mitts off me.”

“Seriously, Tina. Why are you here? You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Yes, I am,” I whisper-yelled. “Did Walker not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“I’m supposed to be the distraction.”

I could see his skin turn bright red, his jaw clench and unclench and whatever piece of metal was in the rag in his hand had to be dust by the way he was crushing it. “He did not tell me about this part of the plan.”

“Did you...” I waved at the engine, “do whatever to make sure it can’t run?”

“Yeah. But change of plans. You need to go in the lobby. Pretend to be my clerk or something. I do not want you out here when shit goes down, Tina. Do you hear me?” Ugh. He sounded like my dad.

“Fine.” And like my dad, I’d tell him what he needed to hear for now and follow-through with the bargain I made with Walker. Walker’s deal was worth everything. Expunged record? One, please!

The tiny room off of the garage bay was barely large enough to hold the metal stool. My ass cheeks stuck to the cracked red leather and I was sure I’d have grease in unfortunate places when I stood up. Ick.

While Luke looked all sexy in the next room, bent over the car, in his element, I flipped through magazines. He had a good selection. People, Time, Car and Driver. Well, the last one sucked, but it fit with the whole garage thing.

An hour later, I’d flipped through every single page of every magazine in the place. And just in time to save me from my boredom came the sound of a car door from outside the shop. A man in a sleek, black suit stepped out of the back of a stretch limousine. This guy had money. Was this Crane?

He buttoned one of the two on his jacket and glided across the parking lot like he owned the place. “Mr. Davis, I trust you’ve found the problem and remedied it.”

“Mr. Armistead,” Luke said with a smile, extending a grease-covered hand to him. Armistead, who was really Crane, declined it. Jerk. “It looks like it’s more of a problem than I thought. There’s a piece missing from the engine. If you step over here, I can show you where it should go.”

Luke waved him over to the car and pointed down into the engine block. “See right there, that gaping hole. It looks like...” Blah. Blah. Car speak. Blah. Blah.

Crane raised to his full height. “You promised it would be ready today.”

“Uh, yeah. I never imagined that something would actually be missing from the engine entirely. But, rest assured, I can get the part. It’ll just take a few days to get here and a day’s labor to put it on. I’ll cut you a deal for having to wait. I hate to inconvenience my customers.”

Crane’s lips thinned. I grabbed a thick book that said, “Auto Parts Listing,” and tucked it under my arm.

“Luke, did you need this?” I said with a smile, stepping into the bay. Crane’s face brightened. “Hi!” I extended a hand to Crane. “I’m Samantha. I’m the clerk here at Luke’s. It’s lovely to meet you. Your Firebird is one of the most beautiful cars I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, lovely Samantha. Todd Armistead.” Crane took my hand in his and placed a slimy kiss on the back of it. From the corner of my eye, Luke tensed, his whole body on alert.

“Luke was going to look up the part number so we could get that fixed for you. Would that be okay?”

Crane tried to smile, looking more pained than anything. “Absolutely.”

“Wonderful. Let me get some paperwork ready for you! Be back in a sec!” I swung my hips, laying it on thick as I sashayed back into the room. Gulping the air, I tried to stop my heart from running away. It didn’t just want out of the garage. It wanted the hell out of the city, the country even.