Read Online Hot Blood (Bloodwords Book 1) by Vic Marelle - Free Book Online

know. And there again, if he was so keen on cars, perhaps he would
know whether his dad was actually in the workshop or not when Mike Johnson was
being attacked. To get that information however would mean that any questions
would have to be asked without making him inquisitive.
    ‘Actually, I’m surprised that you’ve got this
workshop here. I didn’t expect it at a caravan site.’
    ‘That’s my dad for you. When I was a kid he
used to race karts at the Three Sisters track, and rally a Mini. This place was
always buzzing. There were always kart drivers or rally blokes here talking to
dad or using the workshop. He had a Jag then and a van for the business. He
towed the rally car on a transporter trailer behind a big Yankee Chevy Blazer
four by four and for the kart he converted a single deck coach into a combined
motorhome and workshop. These days we’ve only the old Morris van left and a
beat up Toyota pickup. Dad still does most of the maintenance himself though so
he’s kept the workshop.
    ‘One of my mates works at the Jaguar Land Rover
factory out near the airport and he comes in to do odd bits for us when Dad
hasn’t got the right tools or summat , but other than
that dad does it all. He says it is because he still enjoys tinkering but
really it’s to keep costs down. Money is tight.’
    If they couldn’t run newer vehicles then how
could the claimed expansion be financed without the Johnson’s money? Archer
Senior’s optimism didn’t gel with Junior’s financial overview.
    Looking for a way to gain the lad’s confidence
and draw him out, Charlton honed in on his interest in the car. ‘I’m nearly
finished here. Just two bolts to torque up and I’ll take it for a check run. Do
you fancy a ride?’
    ‘Do I? You bet! That would be brilliant.’
Pulling a book from a shelf he added, ‘Will you be coming back after you’ve
done your test run or have you finished completely? Only my mate is supposed to
be doing a job for me on the pickup.’ Turning the pages he added, ‘It’s a bit
short notice but looking at this he was supposed to be here now. My dad must
have cancelled it to fit you in, so tonight might be OK for him, I’ll give him
a quick call.’
    With the needle settled on the speed limit and
his passenger clearly mesmerised by the smooth power delivery of the little
car, Charlton chose his words carefully so as not to arouse suspicion. The
lad’s dad had promised new facilities like a pool and restaurant in the not too
distant future, so as a new tenant it would be natural to be concerned about
any delay in development of the site so he had used that as an opener.
    Kevin had been quite forthcoming. They were a
little behind schedule but construction would start soon. In phase one, trees
behind the existing caravan plots would be felled and an area to the side
cleared to make way for the pool. An existing semi-derelict building currently
hidden by the trees would then become the new restaurant. Final stage would be
to extend the caravan park into the adjacent field and create new plots. His
dad was working on that at the moment and they hoped for a swift conclusion.
    Initially, Simon had manipulated their small
talk, but with aspects of Green Fields proposed expansion exhausted, Kevin had
steered the conversation back to the car. How old was it? Had Simon done the
engine swap himself? How fast could it go? All predictable questions asked a
million times before by what seemed like a million others before him. One of
the downsides of owning a unique car he supposed.
    The big old wooden doors were still open when
they had returned to the workshop and Kevin’s mate must have arrived because
the back of pickup was jacked up. Yet something just didn’t feel right. Simon
took in the scene – something was jumping out at him, but what in
heaven’s name was it? Bending down to look under the truck he could see that
the prop shaft had been removed. Nothing there to arouse suspicion then.
    Spying