Chapter Eleven
“Excuse me!” Tyra called into the small auto repair shop on the far side of the green. There wasn’t much to it, an open-fronted garage with a single pump, and at the back, a maintenance shop where she now stood. A pair of legs stuck out from underneath a jacked up Honda Civic with the plates removed.
Paige Arquette was driving a Honda Civic when she went missing.
“Hello?” she tried again.
A young man in overalls rolled out from under the vehicle and shielded his eyes against the sunlight. Tyra immediately recognized him as one of the two pool players in The Devil’s Barrel. He looked about Tyra’s age, had a moustache, and wore a pair of dungarees without a shirt, showing off his tattooed biceps.
“Well, well,” he said, standing up and wiping his hands. “It’s the cute cit
