Free Deathwatch by Dana Marton

The store even sold pizza stones and offered lessons. She wanted to pick up a couple of things and didn’t want to hold up Jackie.
    Fred looked unconvinced. “You sure? She’s a nice gal. She’d be happy to do it.”
    “ I’m sure. I could use some fresh air.” And some more time to think. She wasn’t looking forward to a clash of wills with Murph.  
    In fact, cooking him dinner might go a long way toward encouraging him to let her keep her lease.
    Fred nodded. “I’ll look at the brakes, too. From the sound they made when you pulled in, they might need some help.” He lifted a hand. “Not trying to talk you into something expensive. But you don’t want bad brakes, eh?”
    “ Can we keep it on the cheap side?”  
    “ You bet. How are they treating you at the diner?”  
    “ You know Eileen, she’s a regular den mother. But I seriously need to get away from those pies.” She patted her midriff.  
    “ I could always teach you how to be a grease monkey.”  
    She couldn’t help laughing at that. “I’m not sure I have enough years left on earth. I’m not exactly mechanically minded.”
    “ You can do anything you set your mind to, young lady.”  
    He was always this nice, reminded her of her father. Sometimes, when she worked second shift, 2 p.m. to 10 p.m., she brought him pie that Eileen was clearing out of the glass display case at the end of the day. Fred usually picked up extra hours, working at the gas station after the mechanic shop closed for the day. He was around most evenings and loved a late dessert.  
    He returned the favor by cutting her a break on car expenses, since her clunker seemed to need fixes pretty frequently.
    She switched cars often, finding her vehicles from private sellers so as to leave the least trail possible. But that meant no recourse and no warranties. Still, it was more important to be safe.
    She talked to Fred another minute or two, asking about his bad knee, telling him about her landlord’s unexpected arrival and Murph's reluctance to let her stay. Fred offered to have words with the “young man.” She declined the offer, but it was nice to know that someone had her back.
    Before she left, she grabbed the bag that held Antonio’s gift. No way was she leaving that.
    On her way home, she stopped by the Pizza Palace. She was going to charm Murphy Dolan into letting her stay, if it was the last thing she did.
    The three boys loitering across the street by the closed flower shop checked her out with some exaggerated leers, egging each other on. They were probably in their late teens, twenty at most. The fact that they outnumbered her gave them enough courage for a couple of wolf whistles.
    They did the same when she came out with her purchases: fresh dough, hand-made mozzarella, fresh vegetables. She ignored them and hurried on her way, wishing she were wearing pants instead of her short uniform skirt. The wind had picked up while she'd been inside, attacking her in icy gusts. She was ready to get home, and not just because of the weather.
    She told herself not to turn back. Then she did, anyway. The boys had pushed away from the brick wall, looking after her.
    She picked up the pace, but soon she could hear their shoes on the pavement as they followed. Her stomach clenched. Ridiculous. She wasn’t going to be scared of some kids. They were just young hoodlums, trying to get a thrill out of harassing her.
    But she did wish she was behind her locked front door. And to get there sooner, she turned into the short alleyway up ahead. Once she cut through, at least she’d be on her own street.
    * * *
    On his way home from the station, Murph stopped by his brother's place.
    “ So about the tenant,” he said after they exchanged greetings, sitting out in the garage where Doug had an old couch and a TV set up, along with a kerosene heater. A beat-up fridge in the corner kept the beer flowing. “How did that come about?”  
    The place was crowded and dirty,