Fastback Beach by Shirlee Matheson Read Free Book Online

me how. Car parts, that’s the best gig. Can’t be traced and people always want them.”
    â€œCar parts? From where?”
    â€œStores. Parts places. Cars parked on the street. He’s even getting a tow truck so he can haul away any car that he wants. Nobody stops a tow truck! Spider knows. So I get the things Spider lists and he pays me cash.”
    â€œHe probably pockets most of it.”
    â€œSo?” Larry’s eyes narrowed. “He has the
important
job. He’s the one who’ll get in trouble if he sells parts to an undercover cop or something. He’s the one who takes the risk.”
    Man, I thought to myself, does Spider ever have the Lark in his web.
    Larry stopped singing when he started hanging around with Spider. He became secretive and distrustful. His marks dropped and he quit school. The Spider won.
    The Lark doesn’t show up at the shop the next night, a bad omen.
    â€œLarry seemed to be quite interested,” Mr. Santonio says. “You know, that boy showed real talent for bodywork and paint. He turned in some nice class projects before he dropped out.”
    Over the next few nights we install the seats, grind them and then Kenny and I share the work of fine-grinding to fit the valves into the seats. She has definitely inherited Ace’s skills, and Ned admires the care and attention we give to this exacting work.
    It’s great working with Ned. He never loses his patience, and he takes the time to explain details. He gives me books on rebuildingsmall-block Chevy engines and tells us about older engines he’s worked on. I’m surprised a person can remember that long ago and I say so.
    â€œThe 1950s and ’60s were wild times for cars,” he says. “Then interest in hot-rod-ding seemed to fade away a bit in our group. We had to concentrate on practical things like mortgages and families.” He laughs. “But when we got our ‘homework’ done, the old dreams came alive again.”
    Great for me. And Kenny.

Chapter Fourteen
    On the morning of the Show and Shine I’m wide awake.
    Mom starts the coffeemaker while I toast Pop-Tarts. The toaster works perfectly.
    â€œWe’ve worked our butts off to get the car running and looking great,” I tell Mom. “Wait ’til you see it! Ned’s got his license back and he’s picking me up in the rod!”
    â€œThat’s nice. Miles, I think Jeff shouldenter his car in the Show and Shine. He has a nice new Volvo and he waxes it every weekend.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with that? He loves his car, too.”
    â€œMom, if you or Jeff don’t know the difference between a cool red ’37 Ford hot rod and a brown Volvo …” I hear a car outside. “Ned’s here!”
    I race out the door and Mom follows. But instead of Ned in the driver’s seat of his red Ford, he’s in the back of a police car.
    What’s going on?
    Mom and I stand on the porch, speechless and staring, as two policemen get out of the car. Ned stays inside.
    â€œMiles Derkach?”
    â€œYeah,” I answer cautiously.
    â€œWe would like to ask you some questions about the theft of a vehicle last night or early this morning. Can we come inside?”
    Mom steps up. “I’m Miles’s mother. He was home all evening!”
    I can barely speak past the lump in my throat. “What car?”
    â€œMr. Barnier’s 1937 Ford coupe,” the policeman says.
    I lose it. I run to the police car. My suddenly blurred vision makes it hard to find the door handle, but I do and yank open the door. “Ned! This can’t be happening!”
    Ned won’t meet my eyes. “It’s gone, Miles.”
    We go inside and Mom makes coffee while we learn what happened. Ned heard some noises late last night, but his medication makes him groggy and he didn’t get up to investigate. When he went out to the garage at 7:00 this