Joe adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. His plan for now was to go to Paul's mechanic's shop, where Paul would explain to the guys that Joe was going to be staying there until things were "sorted with his family."

The day was hot and dry, and Joe kicked up dust along the road with each step. When a bright red car screeched to a halt beside him, an even bigger dust cloud erupted.

It was Ron Jameson in a 1940 Ford Duluxe that was so well cleaned it made everything else on scene look drab. Ron jumped out and slammed the door behind him.

"Hardy." He nodded as he stepped toward Joe. He sported a bandage on his head (a memento from his car crash, no doubt) and a sleeveless t-shirt. Joe tried not to be intimidated as he adjusted his own collared shirt.

"Ron," Joe responded it what he hoped was a cool tone. "Can I help you?" He flipped his hair out his eyes nonchalantly.

"You can cut the act, Hardy. You and your brother are investigating Danny's attack, right?"

So much for covert infiltration. All the air went out of Joe with a sigh. "Uh, yeah. That's the idea."

For the first time Joe had ever seen, Ronnie smiled. "Hey man, don't worry about it," he said with a punch to Joe's shoulder. "It was a good fight, but you and your brother have been two sides of the same card forever. I doubt anyone in our grade bought it. But it's a good idea, going undercover. You get the bad guy to come after you instead of my boys?"

"Yeah, or at least understand why he's coming after you guys."

Ron nodded solemnly. "He goes after my best friend and my car? The sooner you catch this guy, the sooner I can ice him."

Joe grimaced. "That's not really wha-"

"How dare he crash my car." Ronnie interrupted. "Now I gotta drive Danny's car, and Danny's laid up in the hospital."

Ron patted the car behind him as if thinking. "You know what, Hardy, you're hired. You got free reign around Paul's, and we'll help you with whatever you need. No more of my boys get hurt."

He jabbed a finger in Joe's chest. "And definitely no more cars."

Walking around to the driver's side Ron called out to Joe, "Get in, Hardy. Let's catch this mug."

Complying, Joe noticed the interior of the car was somehow nicer than the outside. Joe wasn't even that much of a car enthusiast, but he was caught up looking at the fine leather seats and the flawless dashboard.

"Nice car you've got here."

Ronnie scoffed as they drove down the road. "No kidding. This is Danny's, but I washed it this morning."

"Where's your car?" Joe asked, eager to begin the actual deduction part of detective work.

Ron shook his head sadly. "Poor Roxanna. She's the light of my life, a deuce coupe with all the trimmings. She's in the shop, and I'm fixing her up. It was a rotten day, the day of the accident."

Joe waited, giving Ron time to collect his thoughts.

"I had just gotten a letter from my old man. He's in prison, and has been for a real long time. Looks like he'll be there a bit longer."

Ron scowled at Joe's sympathetic expression. "Shut it, I don't need your sympathy. I don't even like the guy. But the news put me on edge, so Danny, Eli Crowther, and I went behind the drugstore to just hang for a while. I don't know, we had some booze, but it wasn't a ton. I was driving back to my mom's place that afternoon, when some nasty old junker crossed lanes. I swerved to avoid it, and ran right into the side of Parkside Café. I hit my head pretty hard, but I was able to get out. But the old car had driven away. I couldn't make out the plates. Maybe if I'd been sober I'd be able to."

Joe had dropped any sympathy, and was all business. "Do you remember what the car looked like?"

"It was a green pickup. Like a snot sort of green. Awful car. I'd rather Roxanne plow into a brick wall than into that kind of farm wagon."

Joe spoke, "Well, that's pretty distinctive. Maybe the police can look for it around Bayport."

"Yeah right, and maybe they'll do their jobs properly and catch the guy," Ron said sarcastically.

"What do you have against the police?"

"Ask Paul, and he'll tell you everything you need to know about the so called 'law enforcement.'"

Joe had no response to this, but they had arrived at Paul's mechanic shop, and Ron gently maneuvered Danny's car into the garage. He put on the brake and turned off the car. "Alright, Hardy. Time to make you a greaser."