Finding Anna

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Xander sighed quietly as he began to raise the ramp in the workshop. Fortunately for him, Marty and the others were currently out collecting other vehicles, leaving just Harry to man the front of the shop, and Xander on the repairs.

Little by little, the car of that mysterious woman raised high up on the ramp. The car looked so worn. It was very tidy on the inside, and that woman, Anna, must have done a great job of cleaning it. Though judging by the look of those tires, they were nearly balding with how many miles they'd done. That wasn't just wear and tear, this girl had done a stupid number of miles. Common for a road-tripper.

Well, it would be, though all the road trippers he'd had to service never kept their cars this clean. She didn't travel much, and she weren't no seasoned cross state driver. Something just weren't right with her, but he damn well couldn't quite put his finger on it. She might have been running from something, but the law definitely wasn't it.

"Another day, another dollar, another f****d car." Xander murmured to himself, finally satisfied with how high he had brought the vehicle up. It looked like a perfectly reliable Ford Focus. And immediately as it was off the ground, he noticed something was pretty wrong. Directly underneath the engine, two pools of liquid had formed. One of black oil, and one of water.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He chuckled to himself, looking up into the engine, just next to the dripping. Using his trusting wrench and a small ballpeen hammer, he dislodged a couple of joints and non-essential components to let him get further underneath the block. He was pretty sure he knew what the problem was, but he was always meticulous in his approach.

He colleagues had always said he could make much more for himself then sticking with his bad reputation and his mostly good for nothing brother, and using that trusty hand and those skills to fix so much more than just cars. 'Go to the cities. Get up to the factories, that's where the big money is, son!' He remembered Harry telling him one day a few years back.

Sure. He could just jump town with his savings and go and live in the city, working for some fancy factory, making, servicing and probably running the factory one day, but that just wasn't him. He didn't need a life of grandeur, wealth and roaring success.

And as much as the big city had its draw, he sure as hell loved it out here far better. There was no other place he'd rather be. Though after living out here for so long, there were only so many girls he could lay his moves on before everyone knew his tricks. Relationships might not have been his strong suit, but a man had to get his kicks from somewhere, right?

Which brought him back to the subject of Anna. Again. He was right there on the fence about her. Was she lying because she was scared? Was she lying because she was a criminal? Xander never had much of a time of day for liars. In fact, he hated them. But whatever it was, he couldn't bring himself to look down on this one. The girl must have some heavy stuff going on, because she sure as hell don't look or sound like a killer, even if she thought he was one. He chuckled to himself at the thought of her reasoning for not handing over her keys, and the note on the driver seat of the car.

And while he wasn't always willing to admit it, the girls he usually associated with, he only saw as the hit it and quit it type. Something just seemed… Well, different, about Anna.

And what he found particularly unusual was that he didn't even know if she even planned to stick around in town for more than a day or two. One thing was for certain though. It would definitely need to be a day or two, given the state of her car.

"Damn, girl, what did you do to this engine? You're not supposed to clock up half your cars mileage so quickly." Xander let out another laugh as he looked right into the car. Lo and behold, the water pump for her engine is shattered, and has leaked the entire load out through the block. Or whatever was left of it on the bumpy road back to town. No wonder she'd come to a stop, that car must have been hotter than the desert she claimed to come from. Boy, if she was from Vegas then he was a Dutchman.

"And I ain't no f*****g Dutchman," he muttered lowly.

And another faulty seal on her engine was deemed to be the cause of the leaking oil. In some ways, Xander was quite disappointed. He was kinda hoping the job would be big, to give himself something to do to distract him from the fact that his brother was currently locked away on the other side of town in the county jail, pending trial. And he was hoping a massive problem would keep Anna in town for a little longer.

It would be a simple repair. A new pump and a few hours of labor, and a fresh seal for the engine. Then a new tank of fuel and a top-up of oil and she'd be back on the road in no time. Though it was a relatively older type of Focus, and Xander was pretty confident they didn't have the exact piece that they needed on hand.

A simple call ought to put his mind at ease. Carrying his wrench rested nearly on his shoulder, he walked out towards the front office, where Harry was currently tapping away on the laptop, ordering new parts for the business.

"Hey Xander, how's the repair going? I'm glad you took the job instead of me, y'know." Harry chuckled to himself.

"And why's that?"

"Because I'd be busting those wheel nuts wide, wide open, make that one hour fix into a one-hundred-hour fix, least then, I'd get three dates out of her instead of two!" Harry almost started cackling hysterically at his computer.

"Harry, she's a customer."

"What even is the big deal? She's a woman, so what?" Harry shrugged.

Xander pushed past his colleague, picking up the phone before he could get another retort.

"Now, now, Xander, lighten up!"

Xander had got this number down like the back of his hand. He'd rung it so many times. Now any mechanic worth his salt knew this one.

"Hot Parts Hotline, how can I help?" Came the reply on the other end.

"Hi, it's Harry's House Repairs here again, could you potentially look up a part for a vehicle I am repairing today?" He asked the operator.

"I sure can, if there any urgency on this repair?"

"No, it's a standard priority." Xander almost hesitated to say that, his index finger curling around the cord of the phone.

"Okay, great! What part were you after today?" The operator sounded cheerful.

"I've had a Ford Focus come in. It's a 2003 build, so it's rather old. I need a water pump replacement. This one has definitely had its day."

"Ouch, now that sounds bad." The operator made conversation, his busy fingers typing away on the keyboard.

"You could say that, I suppose." Though unknown to the operator, he was referring to something completely different.

"Is that a standard engine or one of the other models?"

"Standard," Xander laughed. What kind of question was that?

"And is that the five-door hatch, or four door sedan you've got?"

"It's the hatch," Xander replied.

"Right. I have two of those on the shelves now. I can get a courier to ship it down to you but it's going to take seven days I'm afraid, is that any good?"

Xander frowned for a moment. He never liked to keep customers waiting for their vehicles. He did debate just passing it off as being cool, since seven days was more than enough time to decide whether he wanted to try his luck with Anna or not. But the good customer service side of him triumphed. Especially in the presence of his colleague who didn't seem to share the same customer service quality views.

"Is there no way you can get it down to us any faster?" He replied. Harry looked over his shoulder at Xander. Even he was wondering why he wanted to get rid of her quicker. Now he wished he'd just pretended he was cool with it.

"I'm really sorry, but I can't organize one any sooner."

"That's fine. I suppose it'll have to do. Go ahead with the order."

"Perfect. I'll have it dispatched as soon as I can. Do you want me to bill your company account? Ending in digits 316?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine. Thanks again. Bye."

"Have a lovely day." The operator signed off, the line going dead.

"I'm sure I will…" Xander trailed off with a grumble of thinking, gently putting the phone back on the cradle.

A week. Seven days to find out about this mysterious woman, and to figure out what her story was. A game changer, or just another customer? Xander wondered, and only time would tell.

"Well, what's the verdict?" Harry asked.

"They can't get it to us until this time next week. The parts are pretty old," he explained simply, hoping it wouldn't lead to another barrage of schoolboy coos.

"Ah, I thought so," Harry surprisingly said, going back to his laptop work.

"How come?"

"That old bucket? I'm surprised it even still runs. Those old 2003s were so bad. Call it Un-American, but Fords are nasty things. Fix Often, Repair Daily, that's what they stand for. Girl must look after her car if she's still got that, more than a decade on, jeez."

"Half this town drives a Ford, Harry," Xander scoffed, squeezing past back into the workshop. "You used to have a Ford!"

"And the only reason why I still drive it every now and then is because it was my old mans," Harry laughed.

"And the rest of the town?" Xander questioned.

"I know, it's amazing, isn't it?" Harry grinned like a kid on Christmas Day. "It's why we're still in business, Xander, my main man!" He laughed at the joke as Xander went back out to lower the car.

Now Xander has the… unusually nerve-wracking job of calling Anna with the news. In any ordinary circumstances, he made calls like this to hundreds of customers a week about fixes, prices, quotes and repairs. But this one somehow felt different. It made him feel less comfortable than he was used to. He never got nervy talking to customers, so why now? Still, Anna was unlikely to check in on the car any time soon, so he decided to go for his lunch. After all, he was already late anyway. And he had a few family matters that needed attending to.

After making his excuses, Xander hung up his hat and his gloves, and hopped into his pickup truck parked around the back of the shop, and sped off towards the other side of town, to the holding cells at the police station.

Why, oh why must his brother be such a pain in the ass? He was an i***t. He was a fiend.

And he knew that deep down, his brother was not a bad person. He never had been. Given who he was, he'd never have had to turn to doing all this. He could have just stuck his head down and probably nailed himself a really cool job… designing video games… hell he could have gone to college, got his diploma and made a fortune.

But his social life always came first. It was always about 'being here for a good time not a long time.' Stealing for the thrill, joyriding for fun, shoplifting for the buzz. He never stole because he was in need or because he had to, he did it because of those awful people he hung with.

Deep down, Xander knew that it wasn't really down to his brother as to why he was such an i***t with his choices. If it weren't for who he knew and how easily tempted his brother was, he would have done so much more with his life than he did now. But alas, he was unable to quite giving into his temptations.

But by god, he thought the rebellious phase was going to be exactly that. The young period of his life where he went and did stupid things because he could. The time in his life where he thought 'f**k my parents, I know it all.' Even Xander could admit to himself that he did that for a while. He never used to be 100% squeaky clean but he found his way. But Jack… For crying out loud, Jack was turning thirty-six very soon. Thirty-damn-six. He should be settling down, he should be stabilizing himself. Rather than burglarizing houses and causing terror, he should know so much better. When the hell would he learn?

The drive to the penitentiary was a short but thoughtful one. He wondered where it all went wrong. When would he escape from the shadow of his family? He loved his brother, he really did, but Jack never made it easy for him. Or for anyone else. Things had to change…

Xander locked his car, and made his way to the front desk.

"Xander Haynes…" He begins. The bored desk sergeant looks up and interrupts.

"I know. Here to see the bum in five. Joe, go get Mr. Haynes his i***t brother for me, will you?" He waved his hand, his colleague going to get the cell keys.

"Right this way, Sir." His much politer colleague came around the desk, and led the way through the police station, passing interview rooms and visiting areas. "Ha, your brother, he must know us all by first name terms. Number of times I've hauled him in here is enough to make Al Capone feel sick. C'mon." Joe, the well-built cop, opened a small, cozy room off the side of the hall.

After leaving him there for what felt like several hours, his brother was brought in, still with the cuffs on, albeit at the front of his body now.

"Hey, can't I get these removed?" He sniveled at the cop as he was almost dragged in.

"You know the situation, Jack. Number of times you've been here, I couldn't undo those cuffs even if I wanted to. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"Ugh. Asshole cops man, every time." Jack sat in his little chair, the cop stood with his back to the door, guarding it. It was only then he really took into consideration that his brother was there to see him. "Hey Xander, my brother! I would give you a hug but as you can see…" He sniggered, glaring at the cop, "I'm a little tied up. No pun intended."

"None taken. But come on, Jack, how many times are you going to end up here? I must have gotten to know every room in this station…" he began rather sadly.

"Xander, it's all I know. All I know is how to throw a good time, this is just where it gets me every time."

"But things have to change at some point Jack. You're not in your 20s anymore. I mean for crying out loud you could be having kids, a family and everything by now. Isn't that rather how you'd spend your life than in and out of this place?" Xander launched into his plea. It wasn't just Jack hurting himself. He was tarnishing him. Tarnishing his name and his image, just with his name.

"I… Look… Xander, it's not just as simple as that…"

"It is that simple! What's stopping you?"

"These people I can't just walk away from. It's not just a weekend offender commitment, these people need us to do things for them…" Jack was trying to protest and put out his terrible justifications. Only this time, it wasn't going to get to Xander.

"You're not associated with the Mafia! These people aren't going to kill you if you move on. They're not going to stove your head in with a 2 by 4, or smash your car, or shoot your f*****g dog, they're juveniles. Juveniles you can walk away from!"

"I haven't got anything else! You're the one with the brains, you're the one with a wrench, the skills, the one who can fix things and make something of himself, what have I got?" Jack seemed to let his true colors go. The jealousy. The envy at what he thought his brother had over him.

"And how do you think I got those brains and those skills huh? How do you think I made something of myself? You think I was just born a mechanic? For god's sake, Jack, you're better than this. You're looking at serious charges this time! I can't bail you out! Joyriding? Shoplifting? But burglarizing houses? Stealing from your friends? For f**k's sake what the hell is your life becoming? You've got opportunities!"

"So don't bash me for taking them!" Jack shouted back at his brother.

"Stealing is not an opportunity! I wasn't just born a mechanic! I worked. I sweated. I learned. I applied myself. I picked that skill up from the f*****g ground and I made it entirely my own. I didn't expect any s**t to be given to me!"

Jack paused for a moment, looking his brother in the eye. He wanted to shout back. He wanted to continue on with his ways and be that petty criminal. He wanted to keep fighting the system and continuing on that vendetta but… Maybe… Maybe his brother had a point. Maybe he really was getting too old to be doing this…

"I… I… I'm sorry, Xander."

"I don't know where it went wrong, but I love you, brother. And I don't want you to throw your life away. You're nearly thirty-seven for crying out loud," Xander stressed.

Jack nodded. "I know. I know I am."

"You're not into drugs, you've got no addictions, you kicked that habit years ago. All you need is to get out and stay away from these people."

"But I need your help…" Jack began to think about this seriously.

"You've always had my help and my support. You know that. But for now, all we need to know is where that jewelry is. If you give it up, they'll let you walk free. That's it."

"That jewelry is worth a lot of money though…"

"Really? That jewelry is worth a lot of money? What good is that money when you're staring down a twelve-year sentence?" Xander swiftly lied. He knew the sentence he would likely get would be a couple of years.

"12 Years!?" Jack cried loudly.

"With your former, I'd be surprised if that was the minimum. For f**k's sake Jack, you'll come out when you're fifty! You're not a bad guy. And you really think their jewelry, worth what, $5000? Is worth twelve years? Hell, you could make that five-grand as a mechanic in less than three months. Come on."

Jack sat thinking about it. Even the cop at the door seemed to have grown intrigued, watching the two exchange their emotions with such passion and energy. It was a harsh trade. Almost a quarter of his life for the sake of a bag of jewelry.

"Come on, Jack. Even the best lawyer in the country couldn't defend you. You were on camera doing it. Don't take the chance. Just hand it back over and walk free. Make the right choice."

Once more, Jack remained silent. He'd done a good job of avoiding prison, at least a full custodial sentence for most of his life. Living off of small time hustles and gains wasn't sustainable. Especially not at his age. No wonder he couldn't keep a healthy and full-time partner going. The only difference between Jack and Xander, was at least Xander had the choice to get committed. Nobody would love Jack behind bars.

"Well?" Xander persisted.

"You're right. You're right little brother. I can't just throw my life away like this. I need to get out of this. Somehow."

For the first time in his life, Xander breathed a sigh of relief in the presence of his brother. It had only taken him the best part of thirty-six years, but could it very much be the beginning of the end for his brother…

But once again, he had bailed his brother out…