“Front fender through driver door.”
Darius looked impressed in the worst possible way.
“That is commitment.”
Brenda said sharply:
“Excuse me.”
Darius turned.
“Yes, ma'am?”
“My son is a minor.”
Darius waited.
“You cannot photograph him.”
“I haven't.”
Brenda looked toward his camera.
“You were recording.”
“The vehicle.”
“You're trying to intimidate us.”
Darius looked toward Marcus.
Marcus shrugged.
Darius returned to Brenda.
“I work for the vehicle owner.”
Brenda pointed at Marcus.
“So does everybody, apparently.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Darius nearly smiled.
Then he looked toward Tyler.
“You the one who damaged the car?”
Brenda interrupted.
“He is not answering questions without counsel.”
Darius nodded.
“Okay.”
That simple acceptance annoyed her.
Darius looked toward Marcus.
“Police?”
Marcus hesitated.
He did not enjoy involving police with teenagers unless necessary.
But damage to a consigned collector car could not simply be handled privately.
Insurance required documentation.
The consignor would expect it.
The dealership had fiduciary responsibilities.
Marcus said:
“Yes.”
Brenda stepped forward.
“No.”
Marcus looked at her.
“You don't decide.”
“We can resolve this through the HOA.”
Darius blinked.
“The HOA?”
Brenda turned toward him.
“Yes.”
“This is a neighborhood dispute.”
Darius looked at the Lamborghini.
Then the scratch.
Then back.
“Ma'am, the HOA does not adjudicate intentional damage to consigned supercars.”
Marcus almost smiled.
Brenda ignored him.
“Tyler didn't understand the value.”
Marcus said:
“That isn't a defense.”
“He's sixteen.”
“Still not.”
“You are going to destroy his future over paint?”
Tyler looked at his mother.
Marcus noticed.
There was something almost hopeful in the boy's expression.
As if part of him wanted an adult to finally refuse her rescue.
Marcus said quietly:
“No.”
Brenda stopped.
“I am not destroying anything.”
“I am documenting what happened.”
“What happens next is not entirely mine to decide.”
Darius nodded.
Insurance.
Vehicle owner.
Police.
Possibly juvenile process.
Restitution.
Brenda's jaw tightened.
“You could tell them not to press charges.”
Marcus looked toward Tyler.
“I could ask.”
The teenager lifted his eyes.
Marcus continued:
“But first he has to tell the truth.”
Brenda immediately said:
“He doesn't have to say anything.”
Marcus looked at her.
“You're right.”
That surprised everyone.
He nodded.
“He doesn't.”
“He has the right to say nothing.”
Brenda seemed victorious.
Marcus continued:
“But silence does not erase video.”
Her face tightened again.
Police arrived thirteen minutes later.
One marked cruiser.
Officer Elena Martinez.
Marcus knew her from a previous neighborhood property dispute.
She stepped out, greeted Marcus, then noticed Darius.
“Meridian?”
He nodded.
“Yep.”
She looked toward the Lamborghini.
Then the scratch.
Her eyebrows rose.