Chapter 13

If Speedy Zone were cursed, then Sunray's was doomed.

It was a gorgeous Monday morning with happy birds tweeting to each other. Boxy whistled while he puttered about in the garage. It might as well have been pouring toxic squids from the sky though. We'd been open since seven, and not one customer had shown up for their appointment. No one had dropped by to complain about squeaky brakes or leaking fluids. Not one single person was brave enough to walk past without spying me first leaning against the frame of the open garage, then flying across the street to the opposite sidewalk. It was as though they thought I'd go full troll if they dare to pass.

Given my mood, I just might.

"We've caught the murder plague," I muttered.

"Nonsense," Boxy said from inside the shop. "We've had slow days before."