Free Who Glares Wins (Lexi Graves Mysteries) by Camilla Chafer

the small office and came out , dangling a set of keys in his hand.
    "We don't normally have keys," he told me as I followed him around a car with its front - end crumpled in. "But these were in the ignition."
    "Was it stolen?" I asked.
    "Dunno. Maybe. Normally , stolen cars look like that." Scotty gestured to a blackened car s itting on its rims , its paint scorched beyond recognition , as we passed by . "Thieves don't like to leave fingerprints when they're done."
    "Figures," I said as we came to a halt in front of Marissa's Honda. "Why was this car brought in?"
    "It was dumped on Fenway Plaza . Traffic cops noticed it hadn't moved in a couple of days and the keys were still there , so they called us to collect. I didn't pick it up though , so that’s all I can tell you . The owner got notified , but she hasn’t come by yet. "
    "Can I look inside?"
    "Knock yourself out," Scotty said, tossing me the keys. "But I gotta warn you, don't take anything. We inventory the contents of every car when it comes in just so the owners can't say we stole nothin'."
    "I won't take anything," I promised.
    "Lock up when you're done. I'll be in the booth."
    "Thanks." I wouldn't have taken anything, but I figured the inventory was a good idea. I beeped Marissa's car open, pulled on my soft leather gloves and climbed into the driver's seat.
    I opened the glove compartment first. Inside w ere a couple of pens, a small notepad, cheap sunglasses , but no case, a couple of CDs , which I opened and closed, and a pack of mints. I checked the sun-visors , but found nothing. In the driver's door pocket was a local map book and a state one, both of which I flipped through , but there weren't any turned corners , sticky notes or inked messages. So far, everything seemed standard.
    I checked the backseat and floor , and both were tidy. I popped the trunk and climbed out to take a look. There was a small medical kit, a wrench and a flashlight. I made a mental note to check what was in my trunk as I shut it , noting that Marissa was more prepared than I for a breakdown or accident . I got back into the driver's seat. I made note s of everything I found and where, scribbling down that there wasn't any obvious damage inside the car or any signs of a struggle . T hen I locked up and walked back through the lot to the office. As I passed the rows of cars, I examined the key ring. There was a silver fob with the letter M printed on it—for Marissa, I guessed—and three keys. One belonged to the car. The others looked like door locks. Maybe her apartment.
    "Can I check your inventory?" I asked Scotty as I returned the keys.
    "Sure," he said , reaching for a clipboard that hung above the desk. The room smelled of fries, cigarettes and sweat, which were not altogether appeali ng , so I hung out in the doorway while Scotty pulled open the middle drawer of a rust y filing cabinet. He found the form and I checked it against my notes. Everything matched up.
    I pulled a business card out of my wallet and passed it to him. "Please , can you give me a call if Marissa turns up ? O r if anyone else comes for the car?"
    "No problem," he said, tucking the card into his overalls. "What's this about anyway?"
    "Nothing interesting," I told him. "Just checking up on the owner of the car."
    "She do something bad?"
    "Nope," I said. "It's just routine stuff."
    Scotty followed me to the car, opening the gates , and wait ed while I backed out. The further I drove away, the more worried I felt , but I couldn't put a finger on why. Maybe Marissa had just decided to change her life completely . B ut if so, why would she leave her car on the street? Wouldn't she use it to drive away in or at least sell it? Without her keys, she clearly hadn’t planned on returning home. It was puzzling.
    On my way home, I stopped at the grocery store and purchased several microwave meals, a couple frozen pizzas, milk, cereal and fruit. I wasn't sure what to expect from next week , given my undercover