At Wick's End - Tim Myers [58]
There was no other access to the roof, at least none that I could see. So Belle had found a private hideaway she hadn’t had to share with anyone else in the world. I decided to continue the tradition. It could surely come in handy, having a place to go where no one else could find me.
I was ready to go back inside when I heard a clattering on the ground below in back of River’s Edge. It was the unmistakable sound of steel hitting pavement, and I couldn’t help but wonder who was out this late, and what they were up to. I crept carefully to the edge and was startled to see a dark form fleeing from the direction of my old Dodge truck, the vehicle I’d virtually abandoned since getting Belle’s newer and nicer Ford.
Why would someone try to steal my old truck when a newer, nicer one was six feet away from it? I wished I had a spotlight instead of the candle in my hand so I could see who was fleeing into the night. I had no doubt they couldn’t see me, even if they looked up. The lip on the roof was enough to shield all but the brightest light. I was still peering after the retreating figure when a gust of wind came up. I’d forgotten to shield the candle and found myself blind in the sudden absence of light. One wrong step and I knew I could plummet to the ground below.
Chapter 14
I groped in my pockets for the matches, but they must have fallen out sometime during my exploration of the roof. Now what was I going to do?
I really had no choice. I forced myself to stand there in the shivering darkness until I got my night vision, at least enough to get safely back to the scuttle. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, the breeze grew stronger and; stronger, and I felt the gusts tugging at me, pushing me with whispering fingers toward the edge.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I could make out shapes and definitions on the roof around me. I turned and walked slowly back toward the opening, and when I got close enough, I could make out the raised edges of the scuttle. I’d closed the hatch when I’d exited, and I was relieved when it opened easily at my touch.
I hurried down the steps and rushed downstairs, but whoever had been there was now long gone.
But why would anyone want something with my old truck? I was going to have to wait until morning before I could answer that question. There was not a thing in the world I could do about it until then.
I called my mechanic and friend Wayne Darrell the first thing the next morning. “Hey, buddy, I need a favor.”
“You and everybody else. When are we going to play tennis again? I’m beginning to forget which end of the racket to hold.”
“No time soon. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my great-aunt died.”
Wayne’s teasing ended abruptly. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“No, she didn’t want a service or anything, but I’ve taken over her store. It’s a candle shop,” I said, waiting for a jab.
Wayne said, “Sounds good. It’s got to be better than selling those junk computers. So what’s up?”
“Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but I was up on the roof last night and I saw somebody messing with the Dodge.”
Wayne laughed at that. “You mean they were trying to steal it? You could leave that thing running in front of a convenience store at midnight and nobody would take it. It’s a wreck. Wait a second. What were you doing up on a roof at night? You feeling okay, buddy? You haven’t been depressed lately, have you?”
“I wasn’t going to jump, you nitwit, I was checking out the stars.” I didn’t want to admit that I’d been satisfying my curiosity, not being able to wait until morning light.
Wayne said, “It was overcast last night. You were snooping, weren’t you?”
“I was exploring,” I admitted. “That’s entirely different.”
Wayne said, “Okay, okay, you were exploring. When you say someone was messing with your truck, what exactly do you mean? Were they trying to get in the door?