Kathy Hogan Trocheck - Truman Kicklighter 02 - Crash Course Read Online Free PDF Page B

Florida, at least once.
    “ Ven aca ,” Jeff said, pointing across the lot toward the little concrete-block sales lot. It was as hot as blue blazes out here. Now he’d get them in the air-conditioning and get the money. He felt great. Sunday afternoon and here he already had four burning gas. Wait till Ronnie got back in town.
    They were under the red-and-yellow-striped aluminum awning that stretched over the driveway in front of the office when Jeff heard the familiar sound of a Corvette in need of shocks, struts, a lube job, and probably a whole new engine mount. The red ‘Vette came hurtling toward him, not slowing down, coming right at him and Mr. and Mrs. Morales, must have been thirty miles an hour. Suddenly, before they were sidewalk sandwiches, the driver slammed on the brakes. Rubber squealed. Mrs. Morales screamed.
    “Jesus H. Christ,” Jeff hollered. The brakes on that ‘Vette were shot. He could have been killed.
    “ Madre de Dios ” Mrs. Morales was making the sign of the cross over her ample bosom.
    The cute black waitress, Jackleen something, shot out of the ‘Vette before the engine had quit knocking.
    “Hey, you,” she said, running up to him, getting right up in his face. “This car’s been wrecked. The frame is bent. It’s a piece of shit. I want my money back.”
    With each sentence she spoke, she jabbed a long fingernail into his chest.
    “Hey, now,” Jeff said, flashing his dimples. “Good to see you, Jackleen. Just let me slip into the office, finish up with Mr. and Mrs. Morales here and I’ll be right with you.”
    “No way, you son of a bitch,” Jackie said. “I’m going into the office with you right this minute and you’re going to give me back the money I gave you yesterday and take back this crapmobile you sold me.”
    He took a step away from the jabbing fingernail and the shrill demands. He’d have to get this chick calmed down and shut up in a hurry.
    Too late. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Moraleses shuffling in the direction of the battered Toyota they’d driven up in.
    Jeff could feel the sale slipping away and he did something he rarely did, because he was an even- tempered, happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He got mad. Really pissed off.
    Jackie saw what was going on. “That’s right,” she called after the Mexicans. “Run for your life. This son of a bitch is as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.”
    “You have fucked me over bad, lady,” Jeff said through clenched teeth. “Who do you think you are, coming on my lot, chasing off my customers? You got a problem, you come in here and we handle it. You don’t come in here and fuck up my sales.”
    “Problem?” she shouted, hands on her hips. “Yeah, I got a problem. Like that ‘Vette’s been totaled. My mechanic looked it over. He says the frame’s cracked and the odometer’s been turned back and the steering wheel could fall off the first time I take a hard left.”
    Jeff shrugged. His dimples were gone now and he’d set his face in stone, the way he’d seen Ronnie and Wormy do when they were getting hassled by a customer.
    “‘All sales final,’” Jeff said. “‘All merchandise sold as is.’” He pointed to the words painted on the glass door of the sales office. “It says so right there. Says so on your contract, too. Your payment is due next Saturday. Feel free to drop it in the mail. Long as it’s here by Saturday.”
    He straightened his shoulders and pulled his shirt away from his back. He turned his back on her.
    “I’m not giving you another cent,” Jackie said, running after him. “I’m getting a lawyer. I’ll sue you people.”
    Jeff stopped dead and wheeled around to face her. She was going to be a pain in the ass now, he realized.
    And it was a shame. Here he’d been looking forward to seeing Jackleen again, seeing her every Saturday, marking off the payments, maybe having some drinks and some harmless recreational sex. He’d never screwed a black chick