Free Iron Goddess by Dharma Kelleher Page A

you don’t do anything further to incriminate yourself, you should be fine.”
    She wasn’t convinced, but let it go and stared out the window. A billboard advertising the new sushi restaurant caught her eye. “Oh shit, Jessica!”
    On her phone, Jess had left sixteen voicemail messages. Shea dialed. It rang four times and went to voicemail. Maybe she’s in another room and didn’t hear it. She redialed. On the third ring, Jessica picked up.
    “I don’t want to talk to you,” said Jessica before the line went dead.
    “Crap.”
    “What’s wrong?” asked Justin.
    “My girlfriend’s pissed.”
    Justin chuckled. “Guess it don’t matter whether you’re straight or gay. Relationships are hard work.”
    “Ain’t that the truth.”
    When they reached Iron Goddess, Justin pulled around back next to her bike. Terrance’s truck was still there.
What was he doing here so late?
    “Thanks for your help.” Shea got out, closed the door, and poked her head back through the open window.
    “Stay out of trouble, ya hear?” He waved and drove off.
    Fatigue hung on her like a bag of wet sand. Her body ached from the day’s excitement. More than anything, Shea wanted to crawl into bed. But first she wanted to make sure Terrance was all right and not lying dead on the showroom floor. Maybe she could also clear the air between them.
    Terrance sat staring at his computer when she poked her head in the door.
    “Still here?” she asked.
    “Just about to lock up.” He looked up from his work. “Where’ve you been? Jessica’s freaking out. Been calling every thirty minutes wondering where you are. I thought you’d be back in an hour.”
    Shea sighed. “That was the plan, till I got picked up by Willie and the boys.”
    “You got arrested?” He shook his head. “Dammit, I told you that stunt with Oscar would come back and bite us.”
    “This wasn’t about Oscar. Wendy’s friend Margaret—the one watching her daughter—someone murdered her.”
    “Oh no. That’s horrible.”
    “Happened right before we got there. Door was all busted up, so I told Wendy to stay outside while I went in. That’s when the cops showed up.”
    “Tell me you weren’t armed.”
    “I had the Beretta I’d taken off Hunter earlier.” Shea grimaced. “After all the shit that went down today, I wasn’t taking any chances.”
    “Dammit, Shea! I can’t believe you.”
    “You’re the one who wanted me to drive her. This is the kinda drama I was hoping to avoid.”
    “They’re not charging you, are they?”
    “They wanted to, but Justin got me clear of it for now.”
    “At least there’s that. Where’s Wendy’s little girl?”
    “Dunno. Most likely with Wendy’s old man. My guess is he figured out where Wendy was staying, grabbed his daughter, and shot her friend.”
    “Poor kid.” Terrance shook his head. “And Wendy?”
    “Don’t know, don’t care. I’d hoped she could tell me if the Thunder shot Derek, but…” Shea shook her head. “Last thing I want now is to get pulled into any more of her drama. I feel sorry for the kid being caught in the middle of her parents’ shit.”
    She sat down at her desk, took the Glock out, and tucked it into her waistband, mulling over the situation. “What’re you doing here so late?”
    “Figuring out how to pay for the new inventory until the insurance money comes in.”
    “Days like this, I miss boosting cars. Cash money, no overhead.”
    “Prison.”
    “No job’s perfect.”
    The shop phone rang. The caller ID showed it was Wicked, lead singer for the Pink Trinkets. Shea picked it up. “Wicked, what’s going on?”
    “Not too late to call is it? We’re in London. I can never figure out the time zones back in the States.” Music blared in the background.
    “No, it’s cool.”
Shoulda let it go to voicemail,
she thought.
    “I wanted to see how the bikes are coming.”
    Her stomach knotted. “Finished ’em last night. They look great. Ride like a