Wrenching

Chapter 1-3

It didn’t take Mal long to see what had caused the sudden and unexpected brake problem. He found two nuts scarred almost beyond his ability to get a wrench in place to turn them, either to tighten or further loosen them. It looked like someone had made a clumsy—and what seemed to be a deliberate—effort to sabotage the pickup’s brakes. The lines were so loose he could almost pull them free with a bare hand, even his weak one. And the nuts were so badly cross-threaded as to be useless. He worked with care to remove them while causing as little added damage as he could. Yep, he’d bet it was no accident or early equipment failure.

Mal swore. Winslow was not going to be happy with this. Although Mal had no way to even begin to guess who was behind this dangerous vandalism, he knew Winslow would have to be told. He hoped Ben would be the one to do it. What if the rancher concluded Mal’s own clumsiness had caused at least part of the damage? He kept the two ruined nuts when he replaced them and also took special care with refilling the system with fluid and getting all the air bubbles out of the reattached lines. Once he was done, the brake system would be as good as new. He’d take an oath on that.

Still, he worried all night about it, feeling a somewhat illogical fear for his secret hero, as well as concern for his own reputation and his job. He and Ben got along well. Ben had never given Mal any reason to suspect he wasn’t secure in his job. The garage owner hadn’t ever made a single disparaging remark about Mal’s handicap or his ability to do the work. So far, Mal believed he’d satisfied all the customers and his boss as well. Would this odd new case be any different?

First thing the next morning, he made sure to tell Ben what he’d found on the rancher’s truck. “It was a botched job, about as clumsy as I ever saw, but there’s no doubt in my mind it was done on purpose. I don’t know any way those nuts could’ve been torn up so bad except by someone wedging a wrong-sized wrench onto them, twisting like crazy and just grinding the metal away.” He brought out the two battered bits of metal to show Ben.

Ben was a big, burly man who looked more like a typical mechanic than Mal did. He was quiet, a bit slow moving, but far from slow of wit. He studied the nuts and handed them back.

“Okay, we’ll have to tell Dan about this. It’ll shock the s**t out of him, too. I know he trusts all the folks who work for him, but it had to be someone out at the ranch, wouldn’t you say?”

Mal nodded. “I reckon. I know he drives the truck to town regularly, but I can’t feature anyone crawling under to do this and not being seen. It would’ve taken more than a few minutes. They should have been on factory tight so it took a little time to work them loose, ‘specially with a misfit wrench.”

Ben shot him a keen look. “I’d like you to explain it to him, Mal. I know you prefer for me to deal with customers but you know exactly what you saw and what you had to do to fix it. I’d rather he hear the news from you, straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”

Mal drew a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “I’d rather not, but okay, if that’s how you want it. But you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

Ben shrugged. “More like acquaintances, but yeah, we were in high school together and stuff. I’ve known him since we were kids, although we don’t move in the same circles. Really never did. Why don’t we just talk to him together? I’ll call right now and let him know the truck is ready to go.”