Tan tactical trousers.
Sunglasses.
The CEO recognized him.
Her shoulders loosened slightly.
“Security.”
The single father did not relax.
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
“Personally?”
“He’s on my detail.”
The security officer walked toward them.
Another remained inside the SUV.
The CEO called out:
“Where is your chief?”
The officer kept moving.
“Trying to reach you.”
“He has my number.”
“We lost communication.”
“My phone works.”
The officer’s eyes moved toward the open engine bay.
Then toward the single father.
“Who’s he?”
“He stopped.”
The officer stepped closer.
“Ma’am, I need you in the vehicle.”
The CEO did not move.
“What happened to my car?”
“We don’t know.”
The single father looked at him.
The security officer noticed the removed carbon panel.
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
Enough.
The single father saw.
So did the CEO.
She said:
“Do you know what this is?”
The officer looked.
“Tracking relay.”
The single father spoke for the first time.
“No.”
The officer turned.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s not tracking-only.”
The officer looked at the module again.
“Who are you?”
The father ignored the question.
“That relay is wired inline with ignition enable.”
The officer’s jaw tightened.
“Ma’am, step away from the vehicle.”
The CEO stared at him.
“Why?”
“Potential tampering.”
“Who installed it?”
“I don’t know.”
The single father said:
“You answered too fast.”
The officer looked.
“What?”
“He asked who installed it.”
“You said you don’t know before checking serial.”
The officer took one step toward him.
“Sir, move away from the vehicle.”
The father did not.
The CEO held up one hand.
“Stop.”
Both men looked at her.
She said to the officer:
“Call your chief.”
“He’s unavailable.”
“Then call the operations desk.”
“We need to relocate first.”
“Why?”
“Exposure.”
“To what?”
“Open roadway.”
The CEO gestured at empty desert.
“Which was apparently safe enough for my car to be disabled here.”
The officer’s expression hardened.