Restore My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

“Let’s just drop it, okay? You’re my client, I’m your mechanic.”
    This time he followed through on his impulse to reach for her. With the barest touch of his index finger, he lifted her chin. Like a spooked kitten, she flinched, but didn’t pull away. A becoming blush flooded her cheeks.
    “I’ll drop it for now, but be warned, Sally Clay: I’ll be asking again.”
    “I’d rather you didn’t.”
    He let it go for now. Why he’d pressed her for a date in the first place baffled him. What was it about her that had gotten to him, anyway? She was so different from his usual choice of a date.
    Dismissing him, she picked up the owner’s registration and frowned. “This is strange.”
    “What?” He leaned across the desk, his head nearly touching hers and sniffed. Oil?
    “Not too close, Joe.” She wrinkled her nose, as if reading his mind. “You’ll get ninety-weight gear oil on you.”
    Joe didn’t retreat. The scent of peppermints mixed with the gear oil. Breath mints? His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth, the plump lips so like Angelina what’s-her-name’s, the movie star. He’d never expected to be turned on by a woman doused in gear oil.
    “Look at the date.” Sally pulled his attention back to the owner’s registration form.
    “What about it?”
    “Leo just bought this car.” Sally ducked her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but—”
    “Let me see that.”
    He looked at the bill-of-sale date, then at Sally’s stricken face. The owner, a Howard Steele of Carmel, Indiana, sold the Darrin to Leo Desalvo the day before Leo’s death. The words echoed again through his head.
Your father was murdered
.
    The bill of sale slipped from his shaky hand. “I see what you’re getting at, Sally. Why would Dad buy a car he’d always wanted, then blow his brains out the next day?”

    Long after Joe had driven off in the Bloom Desalvo Motors service truck, his troubled words preyed on Sally’s mind. Joe was right. Buying a unique and rare find like a Darrin didn’t square with the behavior of a man distraught enough to take his own life.
    Was Leo Desalvo’s suicide somehow connected to the Darrin? If so, Sally was in a position to find out. As for Joe asking her to dinner, well, she’d think about that later. He’d seemed nice and sincere, but so had Corky Martin when he’d asked her to the senior prom. She knew better than to waste energy getting her hopes up. Romance and love weren’t in her future, no matter how much Joe Desalvo revved her motor.
    Eager to get started on the Darrin, she left Roy Bishop to finish up the Pontiac Tempest and headed for the mint green sports car. The interior, upholstered in pale green satin vinyl, appeared original and in good condition. The mileage on the odometer read 46,209 but had probably spun around once or twice.
    Sally moved her inspection to the fiberglass exterior of the Darrin and found it to be nearly perfect. She’d need to roll under the car to check for body work.
So far, so good, Joe Desalvo
. She opened the Darrin’s hood. To the untrained eye, everything appeared to be in order. But Sally Clay considered herself an expert, schooled by her father and uncle. Justin and Salvatore Clay were two brothers whose combined knowledge of automobiles surpassed anyone’s in Kentucky. She immediately recognized trouble.
    “Roy, can you take a look at this?”
    Roy Bishop had worked for Uncle Sal for thirteen years before Sally had taken over the garage. She considered it her good fortune that Roy agreed to stay on at Mustang Sally’s. He often put in ten-hour days, but never complained. His stocky build and wide, thick shoulders seemed at odds with his gentle blue eyes and kind mouth. Prematurely bald, he appeared at first glance older than his thirty-five years.
    “Whatcha need, Sally?”
    “Sanity check. Look at this and tell me what engine you see.”
    Roy ducked his head beneath the hood. “A six-cylinder overhead valve