down a rear end, and when he was done there was never a trace of oil or grit left on the concrete floor of the workshop. He'd been an artist.
He hadn't lived long enough to see the Prowler. A heart attack had dropped him at seventy, but Michaels was sure his grandfather would have approved of the latest project, with a few reservations. Yeah, it wasn't as frill-free as the old man would have liked — he hadn't held much with air bags or power anything — but it was mostly an analog machine in a digital world, and it sure looked like one of the old hot rods. Drove nice, too, though Michaels hadn't gotten a chance to do much of that yet. Several parts of the engine were on the workbench, including the electronic fuel-injection unit, which was much in need of work or outright replacement. The last guy who'd owned the car had apparently tried to fix it on his own, and just as apparently, had not known which end of a screwdriver was which.
Michaels wiped much of the grime from his hands on a red shop rag, tossing the cloth into a steel rag bin when he was done. His grandfather had been a bug about spontaneous combustion, though the idea of a hand- cleaner rag bursting into flame seemed far-fetched to Michaels. The rest of the grease should come off just fine in the shower.
The doorbell rang. Hmm. Must be his driver. He was early; he wasn't supposed to show up for another half hour. The assassination protocols were still in effect — for another few days, anyhow — so one of the guards posted out front would have intercepted anybody who didn't have clearance to approach his house.
Michaels reached for the intercom. 'Larry?'
'Not that I noticed,' a woman's voice said.
'Toni?'
'Yep.'
'Come around to the garage, I'll let you in.' He hit the control for the electric gate lock that allowed access into his yard, then tapped the garage-door opener as Toni rounded the corner.
'Wow. So this is the new car?'
He grinned. 'This is the beast.'
She stepped into the garage, and put one hand on the right rear fender. 'It looks great.'
'I'd offer to take you for a ride, but she's not on-line at the moment.' He waved at the part on the workbench.
'Fuel injectors clogged?' she said.
That surprised him. It must have shown in his face.
Before he could say anything, she shrugged. 'I grew up with a house full of brothers. Cars were big status symbols in our neighborhood. The boys always had one beater or another up on jacks, trying to keep it running. I picked up a little bit about them on the way. This a V-Eight?'
'A V-Six,' he said. 'A 3.5 liter, 24-valve single overhead cam, but it'll develop just over two hundred horsepower at 5900 RPM. It's not a muscle machine like the Dodge Viper — one of those will blow the doors off a Corvette — but it'll scoot right along.' Toni was tough, beautiful — and she knew about cars. There was a combination a lot of men would appreciate in a woman, him included.
'Let me know when you get it running,' she said.
'I will. So, what brings you here so early?'
'We've had some developments.'
His house phone rang. He nodded at Toni. 'Just a second.' He walked to the wall, intending to get rid of whoever it was.
'Hello?'
'Hi, guess who!'
'Susie! How are you?'
'Great, Dadster. Mom said I should call and thank you for the skates.'
For a moment, he went blank; then the empty spot was filled with panic. Her birthday was yesterday! Jesus, how could he have forgotten that? And what skates was she talking about? Had Megan covered for him? That would be a first.
'How was the party, hon? I'm sorry I couldn't be there for it.'
'It was terrif. All my friends came, except Lori, but she's got the flu, so that's okay, and even Tommy Jerkface Stupid Dumb Head came.'
Michaels grinned. At seven — no, eight, now — Susie had never been shy in expressing herself. Tommy must be the new boy she liked. The worse the names, the more the like. He felt a pang of sadness, another stabbing sensation in his gut. It was a long way from Boise to Washington, D.C. He was missing all of Susie's best moments.
'How's your mother?'
'She's fine. She's making breakfast. We got to sleep in because it's a teacher work day. You want to talk to her?'
Michaels suddenly remembered that Toni was there in the garage. He flicked a glance in her direction, but she had squatted down next to the Prowler and was looking at the front struts. The pants she wore pulled tight across her tight rear end. He looked away. It was not something he should be noticing while talking to his daughter.
'No, I'll talk to her later, hon. Give her my love.'
'I will. When are you coming out to visit, Dadster?'
'Soon, baby, soon as I can get loose.'
'Got a crisis, huh?'
For a moment, he wondered how she knew that. But she didn't let it lie very long. 'That's what Mom said, you got a crisis, why you couldn't come to my party. She said you always got a crisis.'
'That's the truth, baby. Never a dull moment.'
'I gotta go. I just heard the microwave go off, so the waffles are done. I love you, Dadster.'
'I love you, too, Susie. Say hello to your mom for me.'
'Bye!'
He hung up. He missed her. Missed Megan, too, even though the divorce had become final more than three years ago. It hadn't been his idea to split up. Even after the decree, he'd still had hope. Somehow, they'd get together, work things out…
He turned his attention back to Toni, who had come up from her squat and was now leaning over the engine compartment, looking inside. He moved to stand next to her. 'My daughter,' he said.
'How'd she like the skates?' Toni said.
He blinked at her as she leaned back from the car and looked at him. '
'I — well, yeah. You were up to your eyeballs in things, so — yeah. I hope that wasn't out of line.'
He shook his head. 'Not at all. You saved my butt. I can't believe I forgot. Her mother would have never let me live it down. Thank you, Toni.'
'I'm still your assistant,' she said. 'My job is to make you look good.'
Well. He had hired her because of her credentials, and she'd been very good at her job. But she was proving to be a lot more than that.
He became aware they were standing only half a meter apart. She was an attractive woman, she smelled clean and fresh and he wanted to hug her. But he was her boss, after all, and he was afraid the hug might be misinterpreted. Especially given that his feeling right at that moment wasn't exactly platonic.
He suddenly felt the need to wipe his hands again. He turned, took a couple of steps and grabbed a fresh shop rag. 'So, what's up?'
Toni felt a stab of disappointment. She had felt the heat in him, thought for just a moment he might reach out to her, literally, and her breath had caught in anticipation. Yes. Yes, do it!
But — no. Instead, Alex turned away from her and began wiping his already clean hands on a cloth. Became