Previously:

Liz paused to palm her ear forward to improve the acoustics. Unsure if the music she was hearing was coming from the interior of the garage or the inside of her head as a result of her tinnitus, she asked her reliable sidekick. "Linda, do you hear that music?"

After a slight delay, tilting her head to catch any sounds, Linda answered with a lilt of hope. "Yes, I do hear something." The last word denoted a question in Linda's mind.

************

"Tommy, you didn't tell us what a creative name this garage has." Liz teased their new friend to get him to smile.

She read the sign aloud. "The Way Down Back Auto Repair."

Tommy excused himself for having turned glum. He elaborated by telling them that he now knew he wouldn't be traveling any farther into Billings.

"I don't imagine it was very successful with the giant traffic jam we were in. I suspect many of us were restaurateurs in that giant waiting line.

"Besides, I'm not pleased, after hearing the hotel Marriott, where the food festival is taking place, is involved in trafficking. That is where I'm scheduled to stay. I'm not so sure, I'd be big on taking part in stuff.

"I'd be too creeped out, wondering if that guy or those guys and those fancy-dressed girls are part of a trafficking operation. Are the girls captives or harvesters, who lure girls in?"

He told about a hand signal that lets people know you need help. It was originally developed for Indigenous people, but has become universally used.

The person in danger, in need of help, being held captive, finds someone they hope they can trust and who knows the meaning of the symbol.

"That's the important part. People need to know the significance of the hand gesture, or all is lost."

Both Linda wanted to know what that sign would be. "Tell us about it, in case we're ever are in that situation." Linda shuddered to think of such a thing happening in her peaceful world.

He became more serious as he described a situation they might find themselves in. "You may think the people you are sitting with or near are ordinary people.

"However, if a person looks directly at you and appears to be giving you a hand signal, pay very close attention."

Tommy described the sign in detail, demonstrating for the ladies as he explained.

" The person tucks their thumb into the palm of their hand and covers it with their four fingers. Then, raises the four fingers and slowly brings them down repeatedly."

Holding his palms up in resignation, Tommy said, "What the recipient does after that depends upon them; the captive has done all they can."

Both Linda and Liz were frozen in dark silence.

"Hey, Liz, that looks like your car." Linda noted.

"Actually, it looks more like your car. It doesn't have the spaceship dashboard. I know our cars look a lot alike. Liz laughed. "Hopefully, yours is parked in your driveway at home."

Linda laughed too. "Then how about that one?"

"Wow, that does look like mine, doesn't it? It could be mine, if our 2010 Honda Fit weren't, who knows how many miles back, stalled, abandoned, but not forgotten."

"Definitely, not forgotten." Linda chimed in.

"I wonder if the road is cleared away yet." Tommy was listening in. "There may be a problem with this guy, if he is here, to go get your car. If he is the only one here, if he is here, emphasis on is, he can't leave his garage unattended."

Tommy detailed the complications of how the guy would have to lock everything up and take one of them to drive the Fit back to get the battery fully charged."

"Nuh uh, I'm not going anywhere alone, and I wouldn't ask Linda to risk some weird, creepy sort of abduction with me. They already missed their chance with us."

Liz was referring to the close call the two ladies had, encountering the racing van filled with the 5 Native teens. She was looking in the direction of her sidekick, who was rapidly shaking her head, indicating 'no'.

Tommy continued his problem-solving process. "Or I suppose he could take his wrecker to bring the Honda back, to work on here."

Liz realized he wouldn't be able to use the wrecker. She reminded Tommy, another Honda owner, if he thought about it, he would see the immediate problem with that idea. "Hondas cannot be dragged on their rear tires. They have to be flat bedded."

Liz whined her anxiety. "This situation is looking grim." She scanned the arid, overgrown landscape. "I don't see any flat beds around."

The thoughtful gentleman who had cared for them since the wandering ladies accepted his offer to sit and rest in his car, spoke up.

"Since my plan to go to Billings is canned, I am no longer on a time clock. I could follow the repair truck with the two of you accompanying me. You could drive your vehicle back here to get it fully charged and looked over.

"Rather than go along on my way, I will stay with you 'til the bitter end. I will give you the directions to get out of here."

Tommy knew there had been enough chatter. It was time to take the next step in this quest. "Well, I think it's time we bite the proverbial bullet and find out if there is a human behind the music we are hearing."

He bowed and put his fingers to his forehead in a sign of respect. "After you, my ladies."