Free First Drop by Zoe Sharp

them.”
     
    “Don’t you worry none about the cops, lady,” said the big guy, carefully putting his Bud down and picking up a tyre iron. “You just leave ‘em to us.”
     
    The five of them walked out of the workshop and headed straight for the two men in the Buick, uncaring of the traffic that squealed and swerved to avoid them. My pursuers took one look at the grim intent and the makeshift weaponry that was bearing down on them, and took off.
     
    The gang ran back to the workshop and jumped onto the grubby assortment of bitsa bikes that were parked up outside, leaving me standing alone next to the Mercury. I watched them give chase until the Buick made a frantic right turn at the next signal and the convoy disappeared from view.
     
    “There’s one thing you can say about us bikers,” I murmured to myself. “When the shit hits the fan we certainly stick together.”
     
    Then I got back into my car, pulled out in the opposite direction and headed sedately back to the diner.
     
    ***
     
    I found Trey elevated to a stool at the counter, recounting a frankly ludicrous story about the fantastic exploits of his recently deceased mythical dog. He had Joyce, another of the waitresses, and two of the other customers as his audience. I walked in on the tail end of it and had to suppress a wince at the sheer lack of believability.
     
    Nothing like keeping a low profile, Trey . . .
     
    Joyce’s expression when she caught sight of me showed she clearly knew something was amiss with the whole setup, even if her younger workmate was proving more gullible. When he realised I was standing behind him Trey bounced out of his seat and shut up, looking more than a little guilty.
     
    I slipped Joyce a tip out of all proportion to the cost of the food Trey had managed to consume in the time I’d been away. She tucked the folded bill away into the pocket of her apron so fast it was almost sleight of hand, but her face stayed cool.
     
    “So, what’s up?” Trey demanded as we walked out of the diner. “You went home, yeah? Is Dad OK?”
     
    I didn’t trust myself to answer him until I’d unlocked the car and we were back inside, then my temper flashed.
     
    “For fuck’s sake Trey! Do the words ‘acting suspiciously’ mean anything to you at all?” I threw at him. “When I left you all you had to do was look miserable and say as little as possible. Why you should find that difficult, God only knows! You’ve certainly managed it perfectly well all day. But no, you had to go shooting your mouth off.”
     
    The shell grew back around him almost instantly. I watched it harden over and cursed myself inwardly. Oh great, now we have the sulks again.
     
    I sat back in my seat and let my breath out. “OK,” I said, trying to start again, calm, sensible. “Yes, I went back to the house. There was nobody there. Not only that, but the place has been cleared out – no clothes, no personal possessions. There’s just the furniture left. It’s like you were never there.”
     
    “What about Dad?” Trey asked, sounding subdued.
     
    “I’m sorry, there was no sign of him,” I said, as gently as I could. “I ran into one of your neighbours – Mr Brown. He reckoned he saw Keith loading up a U-Haul truck this morning. Even asked him to give a key to an estate agent.” I paused, flicked the kid a sideways glance. “Did you know your father was planning on moving out today?”
     
    Trey shook his head mutely and that was the last I could get out of him. I didn’t think telling him about the two guys in the Buick was going to gain me anything other than scaring him half to death, so I kept their part in the proceedings to myself. With another sigh I started the Mercury up again and pulled out onto the road.
     
    It was a little after four o’clock. Traffic was starting to heavy up for the evening rush hour and the quality of the light was already changing, softening down from the usual harsh brightness. I’d discovered