The Price of Trust - Preview

 

Chapter 1

One more mile. Please, Lord, take me just one more mile, Carly prayed,

trying to coax the wheezing junker to the next town. Without realizing

it, she was rocking back and forth to encourage the old car to

keep up the speed. It wasn't working. Going slower and slower, she

was afraid that she was going to stall out on the exit ramp. She didn't

stop praying until she reached the dingy service station that was next

to the ramp. The car stalled as she pulled into a parking space.

Thank you so much, Lord. Thank you so much. She prayed with a

sigh of relief. Now will you please take me to where you want me to go? I

don't know anyone, and I have to be careful with the little money I've got

left. Please let me know what you want me to do, she prayed under her

breath as she got out of the wreck that belonged to her.

A man in dirty overalls came out, wiping his hands on an old

grease rag.

"Excuse me, but I noticed your car. Is there anything I can do for

you?" he asked, looking her up and down warily.

She was used to stares. Especially in little towns like this one.

Newcomers were rare, and most places she'd been, they didn't trust

new people right away but looked at them with suspicion. She gave

him her best smile and decided to be as comfortable with him as

possible.

"Well, I'm not so sure what you can do to fix that old junk, but

maybe you could possibly point me to the nearest place to find something

to eat, and then I'll decide what to do with it. Will it be okay

where it's at for now?"

"Yeah, it'll be okay there for now. But you'll have to take care of

it later. The owner doesn't like people just leaving their stuff lying

around. There's a diner across the street," the mechanic said, turning

around and walking back into the garage.

Nice fellow. Not talkative, but not rude. That was a change from

the last place she'd been. She'd been to so many she was a little tired

of new places. She wished and prayed that maybe she could stay here

longer than the last place. She wanted to belong somewhere. Stop

running. Just stay and be happy. But it didn't seem likely to happen

any time soon. She sighed.

"Thanks," she called after him. She turned, and crossed the

street to the diner. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door

and walked in. Everyone turned to stare at her. Whew! What a way

to make people nervous! She smiled bravely and seated herself at the

counter.

"May I help ya?" a waitress asked with a drawl.

"Well, I'd like a bowl of soup and water please. And could you

tell me if there's a junkyard around here? I've got a donation for

them," she said, smiling sardonically.

The waitress proved to be more talkative and friendly than the

mechanic.

"Well, we've got two junkyards, but they're run by the same family,

so you won't get much from them. They're pretty stingy when it

comes to paying for junk cars. Or anything for that matter. You new

in town?" the waitress asked while pouring her water. It always made

her nervous when people asked questions. They always wanted to

know more than she could or would tell them.

"Yeah, I just arrived. Do you know of anyone that's looking for

some help?" she asked, trying to curb the waitress's curiosity.

"Hey there, Sandy! Could I have another cup of coffee over here,

or are you going to jaw away the day and let your customers die of

thirst?" a man in a booth called out good-naturedly, waving his coffee

cup in the air.

"Aw, come on George! I'll get to ya! When have I ever let ya

down?" Sandy answered. George guffawed in return. "I'm not too

sure about any jobs around here. Are you lookin' for anything special?"

Sandy called to her while pouring George's coffee. Carly turned

red. She wasn't used to small town people who weren't too worried

about keeping things private. "George, ya know anyone that's lookin'

for some help?" Sandy asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

George smirked. "Well, depends on what she's looking for. I

hear them junkyard people are looking for someone to work in their

'office.'"

"I wouldn't send her to those people! They're mean! They just

ain't right. In fact … " Sandy trailed off as the door swung open and

the diner bell tinkled. A bulky man walked in. Carly looked at him as

he came in and sat two stools down from her. He was really big with

black hair, a belly that hung over his waistband, scruff on his chin,

and a mean hard look in his eyes.

"Sandy!" the new man barked needlessly. A silence had fallen

over the diner as soon as he walked in. Carly noticed that a few

customers were leaving, quickly paying their bills and leaving their

tips strewn on their tables. God had blessed Carly with an uncanny

ability to figure out people, and most of the time, she could tell if

they were to be trusted, if they were honest, or if she should stay away

from them. Sometimes she made a mistake, but it wasn't very often.

She didn't trust or like this man sitting by her at all, so she quickly ate

her soup, hoping that he would continue to ignore her.

"Yes, Bob. May I help ya?" Sandy asked very quietly and not as

friendly as she had been with the other customers. Carly could tell

that many people were afraid of this man. She wondered who he was

and where he figured in this little town.

"Give me my usual." And that was it. No please. No thank you.

Nothing. Just rudeness. Without looking at her, he asked, "Is that

your piece of junk sitting at my garage?"

Carly assumed, correctly, that he was talking to her.

"Yes, sir. I was just going to get in touch with the junkyard, and

I'll have it taken off your property," Carly stammered, turning red.

"Well then you'll be talking to me, seeing as I'm the owner of

the junkyard." He sneered meanly. "What do ya want?" he asked as

Sandy brought his food, and he began to eat noisily.

Lord, please help me, she prayed silently, disgusted with this man

and his manners. "Well, how much will you give me for it?" she asked

bravely.

"I'll give ya fifty bucks for it, and that's it," he said, dribbling food

out of the corners of his mouth.

Repulsed, Carly replied, "That's fine. Thank you. I just have to

get my stuff out of it."

He looked at her for the first time. "If you mean the radio or

anything that is part of the car, you better leave it," he warned, his

eyes hard on her.

"No, I just meant my clothes and stuff like that," Carly stuttered,

astounded at his rudeness.

"You're new in town, aren't ya? I would have recognized that hair

anywhere," he said, laughing at Carly's red hair. Carly had always

been a little oversensitive about her hair. The kids in her schools had

always made fun of it, and this man making fun of her didn't endear

him to her either. She held her head higher and looked at him defiantly.

She wasn't going to let this guy get the best of her.

"I'll go empty my car right now," Carly answered, leaving her

money on the counter for Sandy to pick up. He laughed at her as she

walked out the door.