Holy Rollers Read Free

weathered, seen-it-all face. “Now, are we gonna negotiate?”
    Chops rubbed his eyes and thought for a moment. “Eight hundred.”
    “Make it a grand, and figure it’s a bargain ’cause you’ll already have late-nineties Lexus parts on hand the next time someone needs late-nineties Lexus parts in a hurry.”
    The older man rubbed his eyes again before looking into Grant’s own watery eyes. “Okay, a thousand. Just to get you out of here, Lambert.”
    “Whatever it takes.”
    But Charlie Chops wasn’t done. As he started peeling grimy fifties out of the wad he always kept in his front pocket—because this aspect of his business was conducted exclusively on a cash basis—he said, “You know, Lambert, it’s hard enough running a small business these days without dealing with unreasonable suppliers.”
    Grant ran a hand through his bristling, rapidly graying hair. “C’mon, Chops, I ain’t unreasonable. I just want what’s mine.”
    “One of these days, you and people like you are gonna put me out of business. And then where will you be? Oh, you can probably find another chop shop, but no one who’ll treat you like I do, Lambert.”
    “And that will be a sad day in my life,” Grant said, taking the bills when Charlie Chops finally offered them up. “A very sad day.”
    Chops looked at the blue Lexus delivered to him by Paul Farraday, then at the dark green Lexus deposited at the curb by Chase, and finally at the late-model Ford Taurus Grant had arrived in.
    “This hot, too?” Chops asked, indicating the Taurus.
    “What do you think?”
    “It a local car?”
    “Nah. We had to go to Philly for a job, so we grabbed a car in Manhattan last night. But we dumped it in Bala Cynwyd, Pennsylvania.”
    “So this is from…Bala whatever?”
    “No, we left the Bala Cynwyd car in Philly.” Chops began to speak, but Grant stopped him. “The Philly car, we left in New Hope…”
    “New Hope?”
    Grant shrugged. “Heard a lot about it. Always wanted to see it.”
    Chops shook his head. “So this is the New Hope car?”
    “No, this is the car we got from the Ikea parking lot in Elizabeth.”
    Chops chuckled. “You sure get around, Grant Lambert.”
    “I try,” said Grant, not smiling as he shoved the cash deep into his front pocket without counting it. He trusted no one except Chase—and sometimes he didn’t even trust Chase one hundred percent—but knew that Chops would be square with him. “You want the Taurus?”
    Chops laughed. “I wouldn’t have minded adding those parts to my inventory, but…” His head took in the parking lot. “Got no room now. Gotta get both these Lexuses into the bays before they start attracting the wrong kind of attention.”
    Grant took another look at the Taurus. “I’ve been driving it since Ikea, and I really don’t want to press my luck.”
    Chops put a hand on his shoulder. “When you leave the parking lot, make a left and drive four blocks. Leave it outside that high school with the key in the ignition and I can guarantee you’ll never see that Taurus again.” He leaned a bit closer to make sure the conversation was just between the two of them. “Best watch your boyfriend, though. That hairstyle, well, he’s lookin’ sorta…” He wobbled his wrist. “You know I don’t care, Lambert, but I can’t say the same for everyone in this neighborhood.”
    “He can take care of himself.” Grant made a half turn until he could see Chase. “Ready to hit the road?”
    Chase was, and was about to say so when Farraday was suddenly standing between them. Chops backed away, disappearing into his garage.
    “You guys got a minute?”
    “Ordinarily,” said Grant, “I’d say ‘maybe.’ But I figure you just cost me a thou or so by beating me to Chops with your Lexus, so now I’m not so sure.”
    “What, now you don’t believe in the free enterprise system?”
    Grant shook his head. “I got you lecturing me on free enterprise, and Chops lecturing me on the