"Spare me, Mr. Duggan." She lifted both palms and held her eyes closed for a full five disgusted seconds. "I'm not interested in the graphic details."

"You didn't let me finish… Miss Gardner. I was about to say I have this little shop in Osseo where I refurbish old cars. Two of my brothers are in it with me, and sometimes when we buy a wreck, there's plenty of bodywork to be done."

She covered her eyes and groaned, then peeked from behind her fingers. "I think I've been adequately put in my place."

"No, it was my fault. I deliberately made the comment about bodies. I'm sorry."

"So, you own a body shop."

He tipped his head aslant and puzzled silently. "Mmm… sort of, but not specifically. We do bodywork to earn money, but our labor of love is restoring classics."

"Youmean like '57 Chevys?"

"No, mostly older, classickerthan that. Right now I'm restoring a '54 Cadillac pickup."

"A Cadillac pickup? They never made pickups," she stated suspiciously.

"Oh, yes, they did. They used them as hearses for funerals. 'Flower cars,' they were called, and had rollers on the bed to roll the casket on."

"And where does one find such jewels?"

"In farmers' fields, at antique auctions, places like that. I bought this one from an old duffer up in Brooten, Minnesota, and it was in pretty decent condition. She's turning out to be a beauty-four hundred cubic inches and a V-8 engine, and-" Suddenly he cut himself off, then shrugged. "Well, you're not interested in that. I get carried away when it comes to cars."

She found it pleasant to be with a man who got carried away with something more understandable than computers. Duggan's eyes had danced with enthusiasm as he'd spoken of the collector's item he prized. But now he turned the conversation over to her.

"Tell me. What does the lucky Mr. Hildebrandt do?"