The Bikini Car Wash Read Online Free PDF Page B

you’re successful.”
    “I don’t care if they think I’m successful, as long as I am successful.”
    Hank still didn’t approve. “You’re as pale as a night-shift clerk,” he said. “And you’re getting too fleshy around the middle. Your golf game has always been crap. It’s not going to get any better if you’re here at the store all day.”
    “Just do it for me, Dad,” Pete said.
    His father made a dismissive sound, but agreed. Then he left without even a parting word to Miss Kepper.
    Pete stood at the corner windows just staring into the distance. He watched as his father left the building and walked over to his shiny new Lincoln that he’d illegally parked in a handicapped spot.
    “Figures,” Pete whispered to himself and shook his head.
    As his father drove away, Pete congratulated himself on having thought to ask Hank to golf for the company. Pete was not a big participant in charitable events. He believed in charity and made a point to give, but the last thing he wanted to do with his time was attend a gala or a golf tournament. Peterson, you’re just not a party guy, he reminded himself.
    Suddenly out of the corner of his eye he saw something that just wasn’t right. He stepped slightly closer to the window and squinted. There was someone moving around in the old car wash building. His first thought was to call the police. In his mind that idea was immediately followed by the curious question of “what kind of burglar breaks into an abandoned building in broad daylight?”
    Undoubtedly, it had to be kids, he decided. He would just take care of it himself.
    With a quick, “I’ve got my phone,” to Miss Kepper, Pete headed down the hallway. He took the stairs two at a time and breezed through the front of the store and out the door without so much as a glance around.
    He couldn’t remember if there was anything stored inside the place next door, but even if it was empty, he didn’t want anyone inside, perhaps vandalizing the place. Even if they were just trespassing, with his luck, they’d trip and break a leg and Guthrie Foods would be found liable.
    He began loping across the parking lot. Always an athlete, he used to run every day. During his marriage, he’d gotten up to fifty miles a week. That time of his life was swiftly followed by what he thought of as the “divorce era” when he quit running completely. Now he jogged occasionally, but considering how winded he got just crossing the parking lot, he thought perhaps it wasn’t occasionally enough.
    Pete was breathing hard as he came around the corner of the little building. The windows were all boarded up. He glanced at the door, expecting to see evidence of it being forced open with a crowbar. Instead, it was casually ajar, with a key still hanging in the lock. That surprised him, but it didn’t stop him. He pushed the door open more widely sending a larger shaft of light into the crowded, tightly packed space. He caught sight of a man in a ball cap and coveralls picking up a big brown box.
    “Put that down!” Pete ordered in his most authoritative tone, sounding very much like his father.
    The shocked thief immediately set the box back on the floor. Then, inexplicably, picked it back up.
    “Who do you think you are? The packing police?” the thief asked.
    Pete was taken aback by the voice, obviously that of a woman. And a woman who sounded not the least bit guilty of breaking and entering.
    “I…uh…this is private property and you are trespassing,” he explained firmly if more quietly.
    The thief set the box back down and, stubbornly, put her hands on her hips. “It sure is private property,” she said. “But you’re the one trespassing. Bye-bye!”
    The last comment was offered with a snarky little wave. The disrespect in the gesture was jaw-dropping. He couldn’t imagine what this woman could be thinking.
    “Do you know who I am?”
    She huffed. “I’m sure you think you’re God’s gift to women, but I doubt