“Guess they aren’t from the bellringer,” Clara said.
“No,” she said. “They’re from Hatchet. He’s nuts, but he’s sweet.” She put her face close to the flowers to smell the roses, and she shrieked and jumped back. “There’s a big spider crawling around in the flowers.”
“Probably meant as a pet,” Clara said. She picked the vase up, carried it out to the parking lot, and set it next to the Dumpster. She came back inside and locked the door.
Diesel was hands in pockets, looking out my front window. “I think she’s here with the car,” he said.
“Your assistant?” I asked him.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what this latest one looks like.”
“You still don’t know her name, either, do you?”
Diesel grinned. “No. I keep meaning to ask.”
She was pretty in a girl-next-door Miss America kind of way. Straight, shoulder-length, Jennifer Aniston blond hair, messenger bag hung on her shoulder, designer jeans, and a dressy little black jacket.
I went out to her and extended my hand. “I’m Lizzy Tucker. I work with Diesel.”
“Mindy Smith,” she said, shaking my hand. “I’m Diesel’s assistant. He requested two cars. My associate should be coming right away. She was a couple minutes behind me.” Mindy looked past me to the house. “Is Diesel here? I’ve never met him. I hear he’s incredibly handsome.”
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Three months. If I make it to six months, I’ll get a hardship bonus. He has a reputation for being a little difficult.”
I looked back at the house and crooked my finger at Diesel to come out.
“Was that him behind the curtain?” Mindy asked.
“Yes. He’s very shy.”
She hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. “Just goes to show how wrong rumors can be.”
Diesel ambled out and Mindy sucked in some air. “Wow,” she whispered.
“This is Mindy Smith,” I said to Diesel. “Your assistant. Her associate is coming shortly with the second car.”
“Nice,” Diesel said.
Hard to tell if he was talking about the cars or about Mindy Smith.
“As you know, we try to get the best vehicles available,” Mindy said, handing Diesel the keys to a black Aston Martin. “I hope this will be all right. The second car is identical to this one.”
“I can make do,” Diesel said.
“The papers are in the glove box. I’ve made arrangements to have your previous cars towed from the bakery parking lot. And I have the two new cell phones you requested.”
The second car eased to a stop behind the first car, and a woman who looked like a Mindy Smith clone got out. She flushed a little at seeing Diesel, and for a moment I was afraid she was going to do something awful, like curtsy to the king. Fortunately, she pulled herself together and simply smiled and gave Diesel the second key.
“While you’re here, you can help me out with one more thing,” Diesel said.
He ran into the house, and minutes later he came out carrying the painting wrapped in a sheet, the Duane bell, and the Motion Machine.
“These need to be returned to their owners,” he said. “There was a plaque that needed to go back as well, but it was stolen by a crazy lady.”
Mindy took the painting, and her clone took the bell and the Motion Machine. Both women looked like deer in headlights, not sure what to do but unwilling to ask Diesel.
“Thanks,” Diesel said to the women. “Have a good trip.”