Free Chaser by Miasha Page A

that I had a close relationship with the Eighteenth District and that I was the person they contracted with to handle accidents in the area. I handed her a business card with all the shop’s information on it and explained that my father’s body shop was close by. I told her I would gladly tow her car for her and securely lock it indoors at my dad’s shop at no charge to her. Then I would help her set up an insurance claim, get her in a rental car, and have her adjuster come out to the shop to give us an estimate right away. That way my guys could get started repairing her car ASAP. She was feeling what I was saying and was even more compelled when I told her I could save her from having to pay the deductible.
    By the time the cops arrived, there were about a half-dozen otherchasers on the scene. They were green with envy, too. It had been slow for a while, at least for the past three weeks I had been back on the streets after training Leah. And it seemed whenever it did pick up and start hittin’, it was only totals and junk. This was the first homer that any of us came across in a minute, and niggas was mad that it was me and not them who got it. I even noticed one chaser try to approach the lady after it was clear that I had been talking to her first. I wanted to knock the pussy out to show him not to disrespect me like that again. But I wasn’t about to let him make me lose the job. So I kept my composure and, as politely as I could, told him to back the fuck up. He complied. One thing about the streets: my name rang bells in them. Between the work my pop put in before he opened the shop and the numerous niggas I done knocked out, niggas knew not to take shit too far.
    The cops got out of their car, and I realized I knew them from being on accident scenes with them in the past. I greeted them with handshakes as they walked up to where the lady and I were standing. And it was that small gesture that sealed the deal for me. After giving her statement to the police, the lady agreed to let me tow her car. She signed the tow agreement I had written up, and then she got in the back of the ambulance to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, I hooked her car and towed it to the shop.
    As I was pulling up in front of the shop, I noticed Leah was just opening up. My dad had given her the key two days ago as a one-month promotion-type thing. I threw my truck in park and jumped out to tease her.
    “It’s ya second day opening and you late? That’s why you can’t give a black person a promotion.”
    “Shut up,” Leah said dryly, not even giving me the giggle that I usually got out of her.
    “Is today not a good day?” I asked, unhooking the car.
    “No, not really,” she said, walking into the shop.
    I followed behind her, determining I would bring the car I just towed inside later.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yeah, I’m sure.” She sighed.
    “All right.” I sighed back. “I ain’t goin’ hound you. I know you got some stuff to do before it get busy around here. But if you wanna talk about it, I’ll be available at lunchtime at the Breakfast House on Fifty-Fourth and Woodland.”
    Leah managed to smirk. “Thank you,” she said.
    “No problem.” Then I let her get to work as I drove the smashed-up BMW inside the shop. I left the tow agreement and the keys on Leah’s desk so she could set up a file, and I rolled out, headed back to post up and listen to the scanners.
     
    It was close to one o’clock when I walked into the Breakfast House. My stomach was growling and I could taste the fish and grits I planned on ordering. I took my coat off and sat down when I was alerted that I had a text message.
    Does that lunch offer still stand? Leah
    I wrote back, I’m waitin’ on you . Then before I pressed Send, I wrote, How you get my number?
    It was on the tow agreement, duh was her reply.
    I laughed to myself as I imagined Leah saying all that with her usual sass. For the hell of it I