Too normal.
He touched it.
The wire shifted in a way it should not.
Daniel stopped.
Victoria immediately noticed.
“What?”
He did not answer.
He reached deeper.
Pulled the connector.
Examined the terminal.
There.
Hairline separation inside the crimp.
Under vibration and heat, electrical continuity weakened.
Cold, it tested correctly.
Warm, the circuit opened intermittently.
That explained everything.
Daniel breathed out.
Victoria leaned closer.
“Is that the face?”
“What face?”
“The one people make when they’ve found something.”
Daniel looked at her.
“How often are you around mechanics?”
“Not enough to know your faces.”
“Then how would you know?”
“I’m around people who find expensive mistakes.”
Daniel almost smiled.
He removed the terminal.
Re-crimped it properly.
Checked resistance.
Clean.
Then he repaired the strain relief.
Victoria watched.
No questions now.
Daniel appreciated that.
People who did not understand machinery often filled silence by asking whether every component was the broken component.
Victoria did not.
She simply watched.
By 7:06, Daniel finished.
He closed the connector.
Secured the harness.
Then he straightened.
His back objected immediately.
He groaned.
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
“Forty-two?”
“Forty-three.”
“You move like sixty.”
“I’ve been bent over your car all night.”
“You’re welcome.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You think this is a gift?”
“You seemed happier at three in the morning than you did when I arrived.”
“That was before my spine filed for divorce.”
Victoria smiled.
Daniel reached for the ignition key resting beside the engine bay.
She looked down at it.
“Should I be worried?”
“Yes.”
Her smile vanished slightly.
Daniel added, “Because if this doesn’t work, I’m going to pretend I never met you.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The charm.”
He moved around the car.
Victoria followed.
The early sunlight reached farther into the garage now.
It caught the wet rear bodywork and turned silver paint almost white.
Daniel opened the driver’s door.
Victoria stood beside him.
Close again.
“You want to do it?”
She looked at the ignition.
Then at him.
“No.”
“Why?”
“If it fails, I want to be able to blame you completely.”
“Smart.”
“I built a career around risk allocation.”
“So that’s what billionaires call blame?”
Victoria’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
Daniel noticed.
He had learned she was wealthy around midnight.
He learned exactly how wealthy around two, when he finally searched her name after she disappeared into the office to make a call.
The search results had made him laugh aloud.
Hale Meridian Capital.
Net worth estimates ranging from $3.8 billion to $6.2 billion depending on which publication was inventing numbers.
Properties.
Companies.
Aircraft.
Hotels.
Technology.
Real estate.
Manufacturing.
Daniel stopped reading after the fourth article.
He preferred people before headlines.
But apparently the word billionaire irritated her.
Interesting.
He turned the key.