Her Protectors

It has been a little of a year since my uncle passed away. The police say that someone broke into his shop, and he was killed in an attempted robbery. I don’t believe them. We never kept money in the office. His two-bedroom apartment, above the shop, had a safe in the kitchen behind the refrigerator. No one knew about it, except for me and my uncle. A month after my uncle’s death his attorney showed up with paperwork for me to sign. I was his only beneficiary. He left everything to me. The shop, his properties, my parent’s home which I never knew we had.

My name is Cassidy Romano. I just turned twenty-one a month ago. I live in Brooklyn, New York. My parents died when I was thirteen years old. I was sent to live with my uncle, Gino Delvecchio, when I was fourteen years old. I was an only child. No other relatives other than my uncle. My uncle was killed in his ship, supposed in an attempted robbery. The crime scene did not look right. It looked staged. I have been a mechanic for the past five years. My uncle showed me how to work on cars. Everything from tune-ups to transmission rebuilds. I keep this shop clean. I know every tool in this shop.

The night my uncle was killed, there was a black tire iron that had not been here before. Everything we have in this shop is steel, silver. We have everything organized in our tool chests. The scene had looked like there was a scuffle and drag marks by the office. My uncle was shot between the eyes. Another three gunshots to the chest. If I was not mistaken, it looked like a hit. Mafia style. But what ties did my family have to the mafia?

I am busy today. I have several tune-ups scheduled for this morning and a tranny rebuild. I have a new smog testing machine, that I purchased with some of the money my uncle left me. It has brought in a ton of new business. I also extended my hours. I am here at six in the morning and do not leave until eight at night. On Saturdays I am here six in the morning to twelve noon. I knew these hours would help out the working-class people who took their cars to the shops on their own.

There are 4 work trucks coming in for full servicing for Saturday morning. It is Friday seven thirty at night. I am cleaning up for the night. I always double check jack stands and lock up the front then work my way to the back of the shop. I close the front gate and pull the chains together. I put on the double lock. I am about to walk away as a work truck pulls up and blows the horn. I walk back to the gate and the driver jumps out.

“Hey there cutie. My boss, Mister Marchetti, wanted me to drop off the trucks tonight for tomorrow servicing.”

“Oh okay, let me open the gate back up. Pull around back and driver into the shop. Park on the right side. There are four scheduled for tomorrow. Are you bringing the other trucks tonight?”

“Yeah, my guys are right behind me. About five minutes out.”

“Okay, drive through.” I waved him through. Just I turned around, the other trucks were pulling in. I waved to them to follow the first guy.

The guys parked all of the trucks in the back of the shop. The first guy that arrived was walking toward me, “Hey cutie, where is your boss? I need to give the keys to a Cass. The boss told me to see Cass.”

“That would be me!” His eyebrows went up. Yeah, that always gets them. I go by Cass and since I’m a woman, a lot a people don’t take me seriously. “This is my shop.”

He walked up to me, extended his hand, “Well cutie, I am liking my job more and more now.” He reached for my hand. I shook his hand firmly. He pulled back with a grin. “Strong grip. I like that. What else can you firmly hold?”

“Do you want to really find out?” as I cracked my knuckles.

“Ooo, sassy. I love it. Cass? Short for?” he asked. “Cassidy. Cassidy Romano. And you are?”

“Marco Martini. Martini like the apple drink. Or M&M, melts in your mouth, not in your hand. You can always order a dirty martini. Hahaha” he says with a shit-eating grin. He is a hunk. But not my type. He’s more of a dork, in a handsome way.

“You know the old saying ‘the lips are moving, they are lying’?” I said as I walked back to the gate. The other drivers were already walking to a car that had pulled up outside the gate.

“Oh, and I never really like vermouth. I’m more of a tequila girl. Not that silver shit, anejo. Smoother. It slides down the throat smoothly.” I said as I was holding out my hand waving him back out of the gate.

“Oh, my heart just stopped. I like you. You’re brassy. Be careful, I might have to take you to dinner and let you have your way with me.”

“Sorry M&M, I’m not into little chocolate covered nuts. I’m more of a long chocolate bar woman. Have a good evening, gentlemen.” I nodded to all of them as they laughed at Marco. He smiled and walked to the car. He waved as he got into the passenger side.

I laughed to myself. Some men are so full of themselves. He was funny though. I locked up the gate again. Walked to the back of the shop, closed the back door and locked it. I walked back to the front of the shop and double checked the front doors and locks. I shut off the neon sign out front. I went to the back to the office and got my clip board.

I always documented mileage, make and model of each car I serviced. I also took pictures and recorded everything around the vehicles. Sometimes you have those customers that say we damaged their vehicles and try to get free service or try to sue you for more money. One of the things my uncle first taught me. I missed him so much.

I recorded everything, took the clipboard back to my office and turned off the lights. I walked through the shop, up the stairs to the apartment. My uncle built an apartment, above the garage. I walked inside and immediately set my security system. The entire property had security cameras and sensors. Two-bedroom, in which one of bedrooms I had my monitors and a safe with my guns. You just never know. My apartment has a small kitchen, single bathroom and a small patio. I had my barbecue grill outside. I loved to grill food. I liked the clean foods, not really a heavy sauce person. I mean I am Italian, love pasta. But my favorites are grilled chicken and grilled veggies. Simple.

I have to admit, the single bath had an old fiberglass shower tub combo. Which I ripped out myself. I had a customer, that does quartz and granite kitchen and bath remodels. I asked him if he would like to exchange a shower pan in exchange for the work on his car. He actually added more to the shower and a glass panel. No need for a show curtain.

I live by myself. No harm, no foul. Right? My customer also exchanged the work for a new countertop in my kitchen and made a small island at the end of the counter. Nice. I put bar stools on both sides. An extra chair, in case I had a guest. I had plants on the patio and a dwarf lemon tree. It was great for my tequila nights. My small living room had my bookshelf. I loved to read on my day off, while doing laundry.

I poured myself an aloe drink and walked out to the patio and plopped down in my chair. I was sitting there thinking about maybe taking a vacation to Italy. I was grilling some chicken and started to walk back into the apartment when I got this strange sense that I was being watched. I was listening to one of my cd’s Evelyn “Champagne” King. She’s just awesome. I started singing along:

No sleep last night

Been dreaming of you

Please hold me tight

'Cause I can't help the way that I feel

I just can't help the way that I feel

Thief in the night