Free Restore My Heart by Cheryl Norman Page B

long. Joe had little to give them in the way of details. In turn, the police had nothing to offer. Still, the attempted hit-and-run was now a matter of record. She locked up after the two officers left, then headed for the Universal Joint, Joe behind her in his Dodge.
    Too early for the typical Saturday night crowd, the tavern held only a few customers when Sally and Joe walked in, and none were regulars she recognized. A small group crowded the bar, watching the suspended TV set. Noises of a NASCAR race and an occasional cheer seemed muted compared to the rowdy late crowds. The jukebox was blessedly silent.
    Joe ushered Sally to a booth against the wall, far from the TV. Monette whisked over to the table, smiling. “Hey, Sally. You ready for your usual?”
    “I sure am.”
    Joe cocked his head quizzically. “What’s your usual?”
    Monette crowded her considerable charms into Joe’s face. “One draft beer and a grilled hot pepper cheese on Texas toast sandwich.”
    Joe kept his gaze locked on Sally. “Sounds like good health food. Make that two.”
    Sally suppressed a grin. Monette had suffered a serious setback when a guy ignored her for a crippled— No! Joe was right. She had to stop the negative self-talk.
    “Monette, have you met Joe Desalvo?”
    “Pleased to meet you, Joe.” Monette seemed to take his disinterest in stride. Winking at Sally, she hurried toward the kitchen with their orders.
    Joe nodded toward the bar. “Is that your uncle?”
    “Yep. That’s Uncle Sal, tending bar. You’ve never met?”
    Joe shrugged. “Probably when I was a kid. I know he was friends with Vic and my dad. Tell me about him.”
    “Uncle Sal and Aunt Susan took me under their wings when Mom died. Their daughter Maggie is my age and the closest thing to a sister I have, although we aren’t as close as we once were.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “Oh, you know. She has a different life now. Married, a three-year-old plus another kid on the way.” All the things Sally shouldn’t dream about, but did. “We keep in touch still.”
    Monette returned, sliding two pilsner glasses of beer onto the table. “Here you go. Your sammies will be up shortly.”
    Sally sipped the cold brew and watched the waitress sashay back to the bar, her auburn tresses swaying in her wake. “Uncle Sal and my dad have worked on cars as long as I can remember. They were Clay Enterprises, a racing team. Later, when Sal opened Mustang Sally’s, he hired me. He knew he’d like my work because he’d help train me. I eventually bought him out and you know the rest.”
    Joe fingered designs into the condensation outside the pilsner. “Your dad raced?”
    “He used to.” Shame consumed her just thinking about what her father had sacrificed because of her.
    “What kind of racing?”
    “NASCAR, Busch division.” She needed to change the subject without arousing Joe’s curiosity, to steer the conversation away from racing or her father. Talk that would lead to the accident. She wouldn’t discuss the accident, not with Uncle Sal, not with her dad, and certainly not with Joe Desalvo. Besides, hadn’t she agreed to find out all she could for the FBI about Leo? So far, she had zilch.
    “Joe, you’ve done an admirable job of distracting me from my troubles, but enough.” She waited as Monette appeared with their sandwiches, ensured Joe and Sally had everything they needed, then scurried off to greet two arriving patrons. “As I said earlier, what’s happening here?”
    “And as I said earlier, someone means you harm. Ticked off anybody lately? Disgruntled customers?” He winked. “Jealous ex-boyfriends?”
    She gave him her best you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look. “No. Besides, Roy seems to think your car was the target. No pickups tried to run me down before you brought me the Darrin.”
    “You think it’s connected to the Darrin?”
    She didn’t really blame Joe or the Darrin. She couldn’t finger anyone else, either. “The fire was probably