Laura then comes in. "The sign on my windshield said 'tire low.' I don't need a flat out on the highway."

I tell her, "Let me pump it up and then we can check for a slow leak." I pump the tire up to the recommended pressure and then check the other tires as well. I then tell the lady, "We need to wait a bit, before I check the pressure again, come into the customer lounge."

Laura follows me into the customer lounge.

I then tell her, "I bled air out of your tire. I'm risking my life by telling you this. The FBI is closing in on Billy. Come tomorrow, Billy will be in jail or worse. You need to avoid Billy tonight. Fake some sort of girl medical problem, stay home and don't answer the phone."

Laura looks at me and says, "You're serious aren't you?"

"That car that Billy drives is a stolen. It has a fake VIN, Vehicle Identification Number, although it's not just a number. The VIN code contains a lot of identification about a vehicle. The information didn't exactly match Billy's car. I checked and found the secret VIN, that the manufacturer hides. Billy's car was involved in some really nasty crime. We had to report it, it's the law."

I lecture the lady, "Billy doesn't have the money to buy a car like that. So, he buys a stolen, on the cheap. The car that Billy bought was involved in some really nasty crime. Either Billy takes the fall for the crime or he rats out the people who sold him the car. If he takes the fall, he goes down hard, at least prison, maybe death. If he rats out the sellers, they kill him and maybe anyone who hangs with him."

Laura looks hard at me. She finally says, "I had no idea. I won't be with Billy tonight. I'm going home, break my date with Billy, fix supper then call some of my girlfriends about my medical problem. Then it's a night in bed, with a book."

"Laura, I saved you a lot of trouble. All I want in return is a bit of short term memory loss."

Laura nods and recites, "I had a tire problem. I stopped by the Highway Garage and they fixed it. I then drove home and had a girl medical problem."

I say, "Have a nice night and there won't be a book report due."

Laura laughs and says, "Thank God for the small things."

With that, we go back out to her car and I check the tire. The pressure, of course, is fine and I give her the okay sign (just in case anybody is watching.)

Laura then gets into her car and drives off.

I go back to servicing cars, which is how I make my living. I put in a good day's work and then close up and go off to the Friday night special at the Flame Pit. I eat and socialize a bit, but I leave early, because, come tomorrow, I expect a lot of trouble.

In the morning, I get into work and I have to open the place, by myself, because Wesley isn't there yet. I get the place opened and take in a couple of customer cars. I then get to work.

I'm in the middle of an oil and filter change, when Wesley wanders in.

Wesley says, "I didn't come in yesterday, I was sick."

"That's strange, the people down at the Flame Pit said that you were down at Lefty's, drinking and shooting pool. Now you can drink and shoot pool full time, you're fired."

Wesley whines, "A man gotta have a little fun."

"Just go and have your fun somewhere else. When you didn't even call, I mailed your final check out, yesterday."

Wesley then tells me to go fuck myself and he wanders off, head down.

I get the oil and filter change jobs done. I then start in on a transmission rebuild.

I get interrupted by a couple of goons. They ask me, "You the people who serviced Billy's car?"

I tell the goons, "We don't discuss the services we provide for our customers."

One of the goons pulls a gun.

"On the other hand, yes, we did a standard oil change/filter change service for Billy. I also found a cable, with a cracked cover. The cable was sometimes shorting against the intake manifold. I patched it with duct tape, no charge, and I told Billy that he needed to have the cable replaced, before the short stranded him on the highway. However, the cheap bastard didn't want to pay for a real fix. If he got stranded on the road, it's Billy's fault, not the Highway Garage."

The goon asks, "You knew Billy's car was stolen?"

I sigh, "We get a hot sheet from the police. We get a car in, that's on the hot sheet, we call the police, like we supposta. Billy's car wasn't on the hot sheet."

(About this time, two gent-a-mon join the conversation.)

"FBI, you want to put down that gun?" (It really wasn't a question.)

The goon puts down the gun.

The FBI guys cuff the goons. They then ask me, "What did the guys want with you?"

I sigh, "We did a standard oil change/filter change service for Billy. I also found a cable, with a cracked cover. The cable was sometimes shorting against the intake manifold. I patched it with duct tape, no charge, and I told Billy that he needed to have the cable replaced, before the short stranded him on the highway. However, the cheap bastard didn't want to pay for a real fix. If he got stranded, it's Billy's fault, not the Highway Garage."

The FBI guys asks, "Did they ask about Billy's car being stolen?"

I sigh, "We get a hot sheet from the police. We get a car in, that's on the hot sheet, we call the police, ever' damn time, like we supposta. Billy's car wasn't on the hot sheet."

The FBI guy says, "Ah, Billy's car wasn't a local stolen. Thus it wasn't on the local hot sheet. Nobody's accusing you of knowingly working on a stolen car."

"Good! Because the Highway Garage don't do that. However, we do damn good work, If you had your car serviced at the Highway Garage, you wouldn't be driving around in a rental car."

The FBI guy sighs, "We flew into a not too distant airport and rented a car there. As to Billy being a regular customer for the Highway Garage, don't count on it."

"If you gonna seize Billy's car, you need to get the bad cable, with the cracked cover, fixed. The cable sometimes shorts against the intake manifold. If you don't get it fixed right, could leave you stranded on the highway."

The FBI guy says, "We have the car in question at least on the way to the Police impound lot."

I tell the FBI guy, "Tell 'em about the bad cable. We do a lotta work for the Police impound people. They know about the Highway Garage."

The FBI guys leave, taking the goons with them.

I work the rest of the day. I do get a call from Laura. She wants to talk to me. I set up a meeting, in a small; neighborhood park, come tomorrow.

In the morning, I meet with Laura.

Laura asks, "Jake, do you know what happened to Billy?"

"Not really although I had a couple of goons call on me, at work, plus a couple of FBI guys."

Laura exhales audibly, "The FBI arrested Billy and several other people, Friday night. Do you have any idea why?"

"Yes I do. Billy was driving a stolen car. If a thief steals a $50,000 car. It might sell for $20,000 as a stolen, with the price depending on demand and condition. If the car was involved in some real evil, when it was stolen, the price might be $10,000 or even $5,000. If the car was stolen and processed by professionals, they might replace the car's VIN, Vehicle Identification Number tag, with a fake VIN. That's what was done with the car that Billy bought. Unfortunately, the fake VIN failed to match the engine that was in Billy's car, thus I knew that it was a stolen. Manufacturers often put a hidden VIN tag somewhere in the car. I found the hidden VIN and then checked the specific car history. Billy's car was involved in some big time evil."

Laura asks, "Okay, then what did you do, Jake?"

I sigh, "I had no real choice. Once I had the VIN checked, the Police, FBI wanted to know where the car was. If I don't tell them, I probably go to jail."

Laura says, "Okay, so you tell them, so what?"

"People who alter VINs are real pros. Chances are they get involved and there's real danger. They did get involved and there was real danger. I might have gotten myself killed, but the FBI was tracking the goons that the pros sent, plus I convinced the goons that I was some sort of idiot who couldn't possibly have figured out the VIN scheme."

Laura says, "So, there's no more danger?"