Chapter Four
Erik stepped into Miguel’s cramped back office and extended his hand. The mechanic took it and gave it a firm shake before sitting in his chair.
Miguel gestured around the room. “Sorry, Detective Blackwell. This used to be a storage closet.”
The featureless room could barely fit the two men. Miguel had to shinny past the edge of the desk to get to the chair on the other side.
“Your office is a closet?” Erik asked. He’d never seen much of the inside of the garage, but with his evening free, he’d decided to call Miguel and ask him for a quick meeting.
“Why not? I spend most of the day out in the main garage. I’ve got a table there and a chair.” Miguel patted the top of his dusty desk, if it could even be called that. “Oversized tray” might be a more appropriate descriptor.
