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Shea spent the rest of the day showing Kyle how to use the pipe bender to fabricate the exhaust pipes. So far Kyle’s attempts resulted in bends marred with ripples, flat spots, and collapses. The lesson would have gone a lot smoother if Shea hadn’t been so distracted thinking about her run-ins with Labrys and the bartender at the Tenth Inning.
“Dude,” said Kyle. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
Before Shea could answer, her phone rang. The caller ID told her it was Savage. “Hold on a minute. I need to grab this.”
She walked away to a quieter corner of the garage. “Hey, Savage. How’s Indigo?”
“Better. I talked her into going to the ER. Slight concussion and some bruised ribs. Nothing broken, thank God.”
“Glad to hear it. You hear about the fire?”
“Bootlegger Bob’s? Yeah. Part
