"It's for the community."
"I understand. But I don't let other people take it."
She looked surprised.
"Not even for a good cause?"
Isaiah remained polite.
"I might bring it to a local event myself if the schedule works. But I'm not handing over the keys."
Pamela studied him.
Then smiled thinly.
"Well. Perhaps we can discuss it later."
Isaiah thought the conversation was over.
Pamela considered it the beginning of a negotiation she intended to win.
Dylan had already made promises.
He was working with a local automotive promotion company that organized collector events, sponsored demonstrations, and private vehicle showcases. The company was legitimate, but Dylan had exaggerated his ability to provide valuable cars for its upcoming events.
He showed the organizers photographs of Isaiah's yellow Mustang.
Then described it as a vehicle available through his family's automotive contacts.
At first, he was careful.
He didn't explicitly claim to own it.
He said he could arrange access.
That might have meant asking Isaiah for permission.
But after Isaiah refused, Dylan continued speaking as though the arrangement remained possible.
He told one organizer that the car was being prepared for a special neighborhood showcase.
Told another that it would be available for a commercial photography session.
And suggested to a prospective sponsor that he controlled a small collection of classic vehicles.
None of those claims was supported by actual ownership.
But the photographs looked impressive.
The Mustang was beautifully restored.
And Dylan spoke with enough confidence that several people assumed he'd already secured the owner's consent.
The problem became more serious when he accepted an advance payment tied to a proposed promotional package.
The agreement involved access to several vehicles, including the yellow Fastback.
Dylan received money.
Then spent much of it.
He paid overdue business expenses, purchased equipment, and made a substantial deposit on a used sports car he couldn't comfortably afford.
By the time the promotional company requested final confirmation that the Mustang would be available, Dylan had little money left to return.
He needed the car.
Or he needed a way to make someone else responsible for the failed arrangement.
Pamela learned about the problem during an argument in her kitchen.
Dylan arrived late one evening looking furious.
He dropped his phone onto the counter.
"That guy still won't give me the car."
Pamela looked up.
"Isaiah?"
"Who else?"
She sighed.
"Have you spoken with him again?"
"Twice."
"And?"
Dylan threw up his hands.