Lock turned into the alleyway. The doors of the auto shop were open. A couple of guys were out front working on a Camaro. They stopped when they saw Lock’s Audi. One walked inside, trying to come off casual and doing a bad job of it.
Lock had figured that everyone even remotely connected to this mess would be amped up after what had happened. These people were unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of that type of violence, at least on this side of the border. In Mexico, four dead gangsters in a pool would barely make the local newspaper.
The mechanic who had gone inside reappeared, walking heavy, a Glock tucked into his waistband. Lock did a quick scan of the others. He looked like the only one carrying, but that didn’t mean other guns weren’t stashed nearby.
“Your boss around?” Lock asked the mechanic with the gun.
“Nope,” said the man with the Glock.
“Know if he’s going to be here any time soon?”
The question was met with a shrug.
“That thing loaded?” said Lock.
The mechanic grinned. “Wanna find out?”
“Any idea where we can find Orzana?”
“Sure.”
“Want to share that information with me?”
“Nope.”
The other mechanics had begun to drift back to work. Only the one with the gun was still talking, and even he was starting to look bored.
Ty wandered casually over to the Camaro. The hood was up, and a man was fiddling with something, doing his best to look busy.
“Nice car,” Ty said.
The mechanic turned his head. “Get lost.”
Ty reached over, grabbed the hood support rod, and yanked it out of the holder. The hood slammed down hard, catching the mechanic’s fingers. He let out a scream.
His buddy went to draw the Glock, but Lock already had his SIG aimed at him. “Don’t even think about it,” he told the man. “I do this for a living.”
The mechanic dropped his hands to his sides.
“Now let’s start again, shall we?” Lock said.