“The Clean-Up”

It was right before closing time when the call came into the office. Arthur took the message, called Adam in from the bay. There’d been a wreck of some sort just on the edge of town and the sheriff needed someone to come and tow the two vehicles away from the crime scene. The mention of ‘crime scene’ piqued Arthur’s curiosity, but the sheriff had refused to give any more details, saying that it was still an on-going investigation at that time.

Arthur took down all the vital information, hung up the phone, then called Adam on the intercom.

“Busy in here, Mate,” Adam replied curtly, his arms covered in grease up to his elbows. “Give me half an hour.”

“We don’t have half an hour,” Arthur snapped back. “Sheriff Biebe needs someone to remove the two vehicles from the premises now and since I don’t know the first thing about operating a tow truck that leaves you. Now, please come into the office so I can give you the location and keys to the truck.”

Adam sighed, slammed down the socket wrench he’d been holding, wiped off as much grease as he could and stormed into the office. He stood in front of Arthur’s desk without saying a word and held out his hand. Arthur stuck out his chin, carefully handed him the slip of paper with directions to where the cars were located then dropped the set of keys in his hand as well.

Adam nodded, stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind him and headed over to the tow truck.

“Bloody wanker,” he fumed, as he climbed into the tow truck and sped away down the road, “always fuckin’ telling me what to do and all the while looking down that big fuckin’ snout of his like he’s so much fuckin’ better than everyone else!”

He was still fuming when he pulled up at the crime-scene. The sheriff was still there, talking with the coroner. Adam could see a body covered with a white sheet lying on the road. Blood was splattered on it and all around and glass was everywhere. What the fuck? He wondered to himself, as he got out of the truck and walked over to talk to the sheriff.

“Sheriff,” he said, trying his best to keep his lunch down as he avoided stepping in any of the blood or remains splattered all over the ground.

“Ever seen a dead body, son?” the coroner asked, a slight grin on his face. He could tell by Adam’s coloring that he was about to chunder any minute.

“Not like this,” Adam admitted, trying to block the image out of his mind. “That obvious?”

“A bit green around the gills there, yeah,” the sheriff chuckled, leading the younger man over to where Maximus’ 4x4 was parked sideways on the road. “If you will, go ahead and take this one first. Belongs to Mr. Merridius. We’re still collecting evidence from the SUV over here.”

Adam glanced over to where the sheriff had pointed towards the other vehicle. It was riddled with bullet holes from the shootout, most of its windows were blown out. He had to look away quickly when he saw the blood splats on the side panel of the passenger’s door, mentally blocking out the sight of the coroner and his assistant now placing Dwayne’s remains in a body bag and lifting it into the back of the hearse.

“Sheriff, if you don’t mind me asking...,” Adam began, hesitantly, “what the fuck happened here, anyway?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out, son,” Sheriff Biebe replied, then cleared his throat and added, “Need a hand with the rigging?”

“Umm... no, thanks,” he replied, shaken from his thoughts. “I’ll manage.”

“Good, then I’ll just let you get to work. I’ll be here when you come back for the SUV, make sure no one tampers with it while you’re gone.”

Adam nodded, got in his tow truck, backed it up to the 4x4 and began hooking it up to tow. Once the job was done, he drove off towards the garage, calling Raine on the way there to check up on her and let her know he’d be late coming home for dinner.

When he reached the garage, he got right to work unhooking the 4x4, then hopped back into the truck and took off. The sooner he finished this job, the better.

As promised, when he arrived back at the crime-scene, the sheriff was still there waiting. Adam noticed that some of the blood had been cleaned from the outside of the SUV, the doors now closed, a bit of the glass swept out of the way for the tow-truck. He smiled, thankful for what the sheriff had done, then quickly went about attaching the rigging to the vehicle.

Once he’d finished, he turned to the sheriff, “What do you want me to do with this one?”

“Keep it there for now,” he told Adam, “Once the investigation is over, it will most likely go to the impound lot. I’ll call you in a couple days, once arrangements have been made.”

Adam nodded, got back into his truck. He checked the rearview mirror as he drove away, wondering to himself what kind of a town he’d moved to. It was getting dark now, and rain was moving in. Shit, that’s all he needed was to have to unload the SUV in the fucking rain! All he wanted to do was to get home, wash up and hold his wife and forget all about dead bodies and blood and shootouts. He thought he’d gotten away from all of that when he’d moved away from the big city, moved away from that life. Letting out a sigh, he wondered to himself if there was truly anywhere safe where he could outrun his past, not be reminded of it at every turn.

When he pulled up in front of the garage, Dob was there waiting. He flashed Adam a big snarl of a grin as Adam reluctantly got out of the car and walked with him into the garage bay. They had business to attend to. Business that couldn’t wait, apparently. He’d be even later getting home tonight, later than he’d expected.