“Hey, there,” came the response from somewhere in the back. It was a man, his voice a little gravelly. “Be out in a minute.”

It was probably less than that when a man hurried through the back door. “Afternoon. What can I do for you, folks?”

“I’m Detective Morgan and this is my partner, Detective McKittridge.” They both held out badges. “And you are?”

“Davy Grace, ma’am.”

She really hated being called ma’am. Made her feel about eighty.

The man was late twenties with a wiry build. The thumb on his right hand was badly bruised. Rena noticed that as he wiped his hand on a dirty rag before offering it to her and then A.L. “Thanks for making some time for us,” Rena said.

“Never had the police come see me at work before,” he said.

“Just a few questions,” Rena assured him.

“Can we do this outside?”

“We can,” she said.

He led them out to the side of the building, where he promptly lit up a cigarette. They were facing west and the late afternoon sun beat down on them.

“I think I know why you’re here,” Davy said. “We all feel horrible about what’s happened. Emma is one of the sweetest little girls I’ve ever met.”

“How long have you worked here, Mr. Grace?” A.L. asked.

“I been here going on seven years.”

“So you were here when Troy Whitman bought the business?” Rena asked.

“Yes, ma’am. And I was damn glad that he did. I live less than a mile from here and I like my commute, if you know what I mean.”

There wasn’t much bad traffic in Baywood but Rena did understand. Gabe had said something very similar recently now that he had quit his job as a financial consultant where he might put on hundreds of miles a week and become a full-time student again. He only had to be on campus two days a week. Everything else was done online.

“How would you characterize your relationship with Troy Whitman?” Rena asked.

“He’s the boss. I respect that.”

“Respect him?” A.L. asked.

“Uh...sure. Of course. I mean, he’s made some mistakes. We all have. But I’ve known Troy my whole life. We were in school together. Hell, I was the one who told him the garage was for sale.”

“Troy told us that there’d recently been a situation where a couple was very upset because the wife brought her car in, you worked on it, and then later that afternoon, it stalled out on the highway.”

Davy’s eyes darkened. “He told you about that, huh?”

“Only because we asked him if there might be any customers who were upset with him or the garage.”

“Well, okay then.”

Davy was a little touchy. “Do you think Mr. or Mrs. Thompson might have been angry enough to do something to hurt Troy Whitman or his family?”