“The harvester more.”
“Still nowhere near nine.”
He stared.
“That’s what you heard?”
“I heard everything.”
He crossed his arms.
“Logan says connectors are routine parts.”
“Some are.”
“He says the damage marks could be from mechanics.”
“They could.”
“So.”
“The machines have modifications they shouldn’t.”
Clayton’s face hardened.
“Then maybe your four genius predecessors installed them.”
“Maybe.”
“You just said sabotage.”
“I said somebody tampered.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
“Intent is the difference.”
Clayton looked at her.
She continued.
“I haven’t proved intent yet.”
That slowed him.
Most people making accusations wanted certainty too early.
Maya was refusing it.
Clayton glanced at the parts again.
“What do you need?”
“Full service history.”
“You have it.”
“No.”
“I have summaries.”
“Where are invoices?”
“Office.”
“Warranty work?”
“Digital.”
“Independent repair tickets?”
“Somewhere.”
“Parts purchase history?”
“Bookkeeper.”
“Diagnostic logs from the previous mechanics?”
“You think I archive everything?”
“You should.”
Clayton smiled without humor.
“You come here to repair tractors or tell me how to run a ranch?”
“Today?”
“Both.”
He stared.
Then:
“Daniel used to do that.”
Maya said nothing.
Clayton looked toward the mountains.
“Your father was the most aggravating mechanic I ever hired.”
“He would’ve liked hearing that.”
“He knew.”
“What happened between you?”
Clayton’s expression closed.
“Old story.”
“Luke said parts bill.”
Clayton shot a glance toward the open door.
“Luke talks too much.”
“Not really.”
Clayton picked up his coffee.
“Your father accused one of my suppliers of overbilling.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
“You prove that?”
“Supplier proved the parts were installed.”
“How?”
“Invoices.”
Maya almost laughed.
Clayton saw.
“What?”
“An invoice proves somebody billed you.”
“It doesn’t prove a part is installed.”
His jaw tightened.
“That was exactly what he said.”
“What happened?”
“I told him I didn’t need a mechanic auditing my business.”
“And?”
“He told me to find another mechanic.”
“Sounds like Dad.”
“Then he sent me a bill for three hours of arguing.”
Maya smiled despite herself.
“That also sounds like Dad.”
Clayton did too.
For a moment.
Then he looked at the machines.
“Supplier’s been gone years.”
“Which supplier?”
“Big Sky Ag Service.”
“Who owned it?”
“Couple guys.”
“Names?”
Clayton frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I want the invoices.”
“You think this connects?”
“I don’t think anything yet.”
He sighed.
“I’ll tell the bookkeeper.”
“And Logan?”
“What about him?”