He said he had not forgotten

His voice changed when he mentioned his brother

The younger Mitchell had called after seeing a photograph of the salute in the local newspaper

He wanted to visit when the investigation was over

I told Harold that his brother would always be welcome in my garage

We ended the call without discussing the mountain where we had first met

Some memories did not need to be repeated to remain important

When the Mustang was finally released the evidence technician handed me a stack of paperwork and a set of keys

The car arrived home on a flatbed with its wheels secured and its engine silent

I watched the driver lower it carefully onto the driveway

The sight of the red fastback beneath the oak tree brought tears to my eyes

I had not cried in front of strangers since Laura s funeral

This time I let the tears come

Eileen appeared at her front window and lifted one hand

I lifted mine in return and went to fetch the wheel chocks

I was not ready to start the engine

First I needed to put every piece back where Laura and I had intended it to be

I opened the garage door and found the old radio still tuned to the station she loved

A country song played softly while I rolled the car inside

I set the brake parts on the bench and arranged them in the order they would be installed

For the first time since the theft the garage felt like a place where something good might happen again

The first person to enter my garage after the Mustang came home was not an investigator or a mechanic

It was Eileen Harper carrying a covered casserole dish and a folded newspaper

She placed the food on my workbench and studied the car without approaching it

I had known Eileen for eleven years and had never seen her look so uncertain in my presence

She asked whether I wanted company or silence

I told her I could use both if she knew how to manage it

She laughed softly and took a seat on the old wooden stool near the tool cabinet

For several minutes I worked while she listened to the quiet scrape of a wrench against a bolt

The smell of baked potatoes filled the garage and reminded me that I had skipped lunch