“The bucket and the heavy scrub brush are in the mop closet behind the oil racks,” the district man said.

“Start with island three and scrub every oil stain off that concrete curb before eight.”

He shut the blue binder with a hard plastic snap and walked off toward the back office without another word.

Carl handed me the ring of brass pump keys from the hook by the register.

“I tried to talk him down, boss,” Carl whispered.

“He was dead set on a full suspension.”

“It doesn’t matter, Carl,” I said.