“I made him practice the hell out of two sentences. Even a man of as few words as the Yo-Yo can manage that.”

“And Rosso?” McGrath asked the question quietly. Zeb wasn’t bright, but the last thing they needed was for him to figure out why he’d really been brought along.

“Rosso is coming here. So you need to go make the call on this guy,” said Johnny Boy, pointing across the road at Spencer, who was now heading, at sprightly pace, toward the doors of Winchester Auto Specialists.

Angela looked up from the reception desk as Spencer bounced in with a clap of his hands.

“Angela, I thought that TVR was supposed to have been gone by the time I got back?”

She knew attitude nostrils when she saw them, and she saw them often enough with Spencer these days. She’d decided only the previous night she wasn’t going to stand for them anymore. When he’d interviewed her, Spencer had spoken a bit like that British romantic comedy actor but with less stuttering. He’d said business was on the up after the downturn and he’d seemed really charming. Now, ten months later, she realized those last two selling points should have been considered under advisement.

“I’m not sure if you meant to say that like it’s my fault? The guy hasn’t called yet. But the . . .”

She trailed off as he walked straight past and into his office. He was doing that sort of thing more and more, too, these days, like his mind couldn’t stay focused on one thing for any length of time. No mystery as to why that might be, of course. She heard his seat thump against the filing cabinet after he yanked it out from under the desk.

While debating what to do, she looked around the Winchester Auto Specialists showroom. Floor-to-ceiling glass, a bunch of potted palms, four cars. Angela wasn’t that into cars, but the old Jaguar was beautiful in a feminine kind of way. The way its body flared out and over its wheel arches reminded her of a woman’s hips. It was dark green, officially British racing green. In her time there, she’d picked up stuff like that. Spencer hadn’t insisted on it, hadn’t even asked if she had any interest in cars when he interviewed her, but as his presence had become less dependable of late, she’d found herself talking to potential customers more often. In fact, the last few sales closed at Winchester Auto Specialists were more her doing than his, and no wonder: he went from hot to cold like the weather on Lake Erie.