She looked toward the shed.
Then back at him.
“Grandpa said people get angry when they're hiding something.”
Her father smiled sadly.
“He did.”
May wiped her eyes.
“Then I think Vernon is hiding a lot.”
Her father looked toward the road.
He had begun to suspect the same thing.
And that afternoon, the estate executor discovered a document that would prove May's instincts were right.
It was a printed email from the machinery broker.
The message had been sent to the auctioneer before the sale.
It described the tractor as a possible rare experimental unit and recommended further authentication.
The broker had warned that the machine should not be treated as ordinary scrap until its identity was established.
The estate executor stared at the email.
She had never seen it.
Then she found another message.
The broker had expressed potential interest in acquiring the tractor if the relevant documentation could be verified.
The auctioneer had replied privately.
He suggested that the tractor might be available through an intermediary after the auction.
The executor felt sick.
Her uncle's estate had trusted the auctioneer to obtain fair value for its equipment.
Instead, he appeared to have withheld information that might have increased bidding interest.
Worse, he had attempted to arrange a private resale.
She called her attorney immediately.
Within hours, the attorney advised her to preserve the correspondence and request a complete accounting from the auction company.
He also recommended examining whether the auctioneer had breached his duties to the estate.
The executor agreed.
But before sending the formal demand, she made one more call.
She contacted May's father.
“I owe your daughter an apology,” she said.
He looked surprised.
“For what?”
“For hiring a man who tried to cheat everyone involved.”
The father was silent.
The executor continued.
“I have documents showing he knew the tractor might be important before the auction.”
May's father slowly sat down.
“Are you certain?”
“I have the emails.”
He looked toward the workshop.
May was seated beside the tractor, carefully copying information into her notebook.
The executor's voice softened.
“Your little girl didn't cause this problem.”
The father swallowed.
“I know.”
“She may be the reason we finally found it.”