Chapter 4
By the last weekend in August, the rains had begun to taper off. Mike scanned the sky with an anxious gaze. Only a few small clouds dotted the bright turquoise overhead. In another hour or two the paint on the Mustang would be dry, even the silver flames that glittered on the deep electric blue of the body. He’d kind of thought that was overkill, but Jeff had said it was the exact finishing touch the car needed. When it came to matters of style, he’d defer to Jeff any day. The man had class and an eye for what looked good.
Mike slid behind the wheel and turned the key. He loved to hear the powerful roar of the totally rebuilt engine. He’d done everything he knew to maximize its power, and the transmission made the best possible use of every bit of all the engine would produce.
