“Drama and dope,” said Milo.

“Y’all would be surprised how many of them are like that.” He smoked, waited for a comment that never arrived. “I keep it real. Used to do some racing back in Pass Christian. Gotta keep the reflexes sharp.”

“Where’s Pass Christian?”

“Mississippi.”

“NASCAR?”

“Some Pro Street, some Dixie Sportsman. I can drive in my sleep.”

“Katrina overindulges,” said Milo. “So maybe her reflexes aren’t that great.”

“For her,” said Hatfield, “it’s all about fun. I’m working extra shifts to make my child support and she wants steak and lobster. She thought I was a hillbilly, we never really got along. She’s a shitty driver. One time I let her drive my Vette, she nearly stripped the gears, after that no way was she getting near it. When I told her, she got pissed off. What, she get into a smashup in that Mustang of hers and hurt someone?”

“Did she ever visit you here?”

Hatfield removed the filthy rag and passed it from one hand to another. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“How many times?”

“Maybe… twice. Yeah, twice, the second time she got me in trouble, marching back into the service bay like she owns it, asking for me. No one goes back there except us specialists.”

“Like an operating room,” said Milo.

“What?”

“You guys are like doctors working on patients, bosses want to keep it under control.”

“You got that, I am like a doctor,” said Hatfield, holding up blackened hands. “Some of the other guys are more like butchers.” Crooked smile. “If the clients knew what went on back there.”

“So Katrina dropped in twice.”

“Dropped in is exactly right, I never invited her, she just dropped in. The second time she brought me lunch. Some sort of vegan shit, noodles, whatever. I told her forget it.”

“By then the relationship was fading.”

“There was no relationship. Too much drama.”

I said, “But for two, three months you put up with it.”

“That was ’cause of all the you-know-what. And no way there was ever gonna be any relationship because I was married.” Massaging the band of pale skin.

I said, “Did your divorce have anything to do with Kat?”

Hatfield laughed. “Hell, no. It had to do with we got married when we were seventeen, had four kids in four years, and got sick as shit of each other. She took ’em all and went back to Columbus.”

“She know about Kat?”

“None a her business.” He grinned and rubbed a knuckle. “It ain’t like Kat was the one and only.”

Milo said, “You’re a player.”

“I work hard, she got nothing to complain,” said Hatfield. “Support her and the kids and bust my ass to do it. If I want a little play, no one’s gonna tell me different.”

“Did you ever meet any of Kat’s friends?”

“Nope, and she never met any of mine. It was all-”

“You-know-what.”

“’Zactly.” Hatfield dropped his cigarette to the asphalt, ground it out slowly. “You ain’t gonna tell me what she did?”

“She’s missing.”

“Missing? So what? She was always missing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d booty-call her and she’d be nowhere. Few days later, she’d booty-call me, brag about how she was in Mexico, Hawaii, whatever. Brag about how she met some rich guy and he paid her bills while she was there, she’s eating lobster and snow crab and filet mignon and not paying a dime for any of it. When she got like that, I knew it was gonna be trouble.”

“How so?”

“She’d be expecting shit. Y’all really think something happened to her?”

“She’s been gone over a week.”

“Big deal. She just gets up and goes.”

I said, “Do you ever get to drive the cars?”

“Huh – yeah, all the time, for testing.”

“Short spins around the block?”

“Depends on the problem. If the client’s claiming there’s a brake squeak after he drives it for ten minutes, you got to drive it for ten minutes. Why, y’all want a ride?”

“Did Kat ever ask for a ride?”

Hatfield scratched his head. “Why would she do that?”

I said, “Goes with lobster and filet mignon.”

He didn’t answer.

I said, “Did she nag you?”

“Why you asking this?”

“She told her friend you drove her around in one of the Bentleys.”

Smooth lie; sometimes I surprise myself. Milo turned his head, so Hatfield couldn’t see his lips turn up.

Hatfield’s squinty eyes showed a little white. “She said that?”

“She sure did.”

“Who says she’s telling the truth?”

I said, “A girl starts nagging, it can be a pain.”

No answer.

Milo said, “Clive?”

Hatfield said, “Why would I admit to that?”

Milo said, “Clive, we couldn’t care less about your bosses, we’re just trying to get a feel for the type of girl Kat is.”

“The type of girl? She’s pushy, is what she is. Yeah, she kept nagging on me, pushing that bod against me, telling me what she’d do if I gave her just a little ride pretty please.” Raising his voice to an alto whine. “There was one I had to test anyway, so I took her along.”

Milo said, “What kind of car was it?”

“Rolls Phantom.”

“Not an Arnage?”

“I know the difference, man.”

“Was that first time she dropped in or the second?”

“The first time,” said Hatfield. “That’s why she came back the second time.”

“Figuring you’d do it again.”

“Figuring she owns the place now. Walking straight back and saying where’s Clive. Running straight into the service manager.”

“The first time she waited out in front?”

“Paged me. Like y’all did. I was busy, took my time getting out. She got pissed. We’re alone for a second, she’s nagging on me.”

I said, “Ever take her for a spin in a Bentley?”

“No, just the Roller.”

“Who owned it?”

“They don’t tell us that.”

“She enjoy the ride?”

“Sure,” said Hatfield. “She’s all about the green, hooking up with a rich guy, showing up her mother. ’Cause she hates her mother. That’s her word, not mine. Stupid.”

“What is?”

“Thinking someone’s smart because a their drive. Let me tell you what it is: Rich assholes spend all that money to show off and then they get scared and never take the shit outta their garage. It’s like I got money and I’m shoving it all up in your face but uh-oh now I’m chickenshit someone’s gonna notice me and take everything away from my chickenshit self.”

Milo laughed.

Hatfield said, “You bet it’s funny.” He lit up another cigarette. “Y’all find Kat, tell her she can call me if she wants, I’ll even pretend she ain’t faking it. Been married most of my life so I know about faking.”

He moved to leave but Milo held him back, asked the kind of loose, follow-up questions designed to relax. Hatfield got a bit more amiable, told a filthy joke about a woman, a raccoon, and an exhaust pipe. But he had nothing more to say about Kat Shonsky. When Milo asked him where he’d been the night she disappeared, he said, “Usually, I couldn’t tell y’all shit about where I am. But lucky for me, this one I know. I was back in Columbus. My older daughter had a birthday.”

“When’d you arrive and leave?”

“Y’all don’t believe me?”

“Routine question,” said Milo. “Help us clear it up and we’re outta your hair.”

“Awright, awright… when’d I arrive… hmm… got to be the Thursday before y’all say she went partying. Stayed in Columbus for four days and drove to Biloxi to visit my mother. She’s in a nursing home, when I’m there I take her to the casino, wheel her chair in front of a machine till she loses all her quarters. Two days after that, I came back here. I’d say check my time card but I don’t want no trouble with the bosses so don’t screw me, okay? I’m being straight with you.”

“Fair enough. Did you happen to hold on to your airline tickets?”

“Why would I?”

“What’s your ex’s name and phone number?”

“Y’all are serious?”