Chapter 5

Flynn got his phone out and called the number to the auto shop again.

“Hartley’s car repair.”

“It doesn’t start.” Flynn gestured at the car in frustration. “Doesn’t even make a sound.”

“Hello to you too.”

“Hi.” Flynn huffed. “The car, it doesn’t start.”

“How’s the battery? Does it have any fuel?”

Flynn frowned. “Can you come get it?” The desperation in his voice made him wince.

Silence stretched. “I don’t know—”

“Please.” Panic set in. He had to get out of here, couldn’t wait for the fucking car to work. He needed to get rid of it.

The man sighed. “Where are you?”

He hadn’t introduced himself or told the man where the car was. “Sorry. It’s my mom’s car, she passed away six months ago, and I want to get rid of it. It’s a Toyota. I don’t know what year or model it is, but it’s a tiny little thing. White, if that helps.”

The man laughed. “I’m sorry for your loss, but no, the color of the car doesn’t help or matter.”