“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Why?”
Jason returned to the computer.
“That question bothered me.”
He opened another record.
The vehicle’s electronic service history.
Then an administrative transaction.
SALVAGE ACQUISITION PREAUTHORIZATION.
Timestamp.
3:07 p.m.
Evelyn felt the room change.
“What time did the dealership give me the estimate?”
Jason looked toward his notes.
“Your intake paperwork says 4:19.”
She stared.
“That authorization was created more than an hour before they told me the engine was destroyed.”
“Yes.”
“They had already prepared to buy the car.”
“Yes.”
“Before I decided to sell it.”
“Yes.”
Evelyn looked through the open garage door.
Chloe was still drawing her dragon.
Cars moved along the street.
Somewhere nearby a truck backed up, beeping rhythmically.
Everything ordinary.
Yet something beneath Evelyn’s understanding had shifted.
“How much was the salvage transaction worth after I sold?”
Jason entered another command.
The affiliated buyer had transferred the car internally for $18,500.
Then listed expected resale after repair:
$287,000.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
Jason said quietly:
“They weren't trying to repair your car.”
She looked at him.
“They were trying to buy it from you for almost nothing.”
Before Evelyn could answer, Chloe called from outside.
“Dad?”
Jason turned.
A black luxury SUV had stopped across from the garage.
A man stepped out.
Dark suit.
Silver tie.
Evelyn knew him immediately.
Grant Holloway.
The dealership service director.
Jason looked at her.
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
Grant stared through the open bay.
Saw Evelyn.
Saw her car.
Then saw the sensor lying in Jason’s hand.
For the first time since Fifth Avenue, Evelyn stopped feeling humiliated.
She felt dangerous.
Grant walked toward the garage.
Jason quietly closed the laptop.
“What do you want me to do?”
Evelyn set her handbag on the workbench.
“Nothing.”
Then she smiled.
“Let him explain why he came.”
Grant entered.
“Ms. Hart.”
“Grant.”
His attention moved toward Jason.
“We need to discuss possession of this vehicle.”
Jason leaned against the bench.
“You sold it to the salvage buyer.”
Grant ignored him.
Evelyn asked:
“How did you know it was here?”
“I manage regional disposal.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“We track assets.”
“Assets you offered me one thousand dollars for?”
“The buyer made that offer.”
“Affiliated buyer.”
“Yes.”
“Who sold the car to Miller’s?”
Grant looked at Jason.
“Mr. Miller purchased a salvage vehicle through a wholesale channel.”
Jason corrected:
“I agreed to diagnose it for the auction buyer.”
Grant’s expression shifted.
Evelyn noticed.
“So you didn't expect him to repair it.”
Grant turned back.
“This is becoming unnecessarily adversarial.”
Evelyn laughed softly.
“Grant, yesterday you told me I needed a ninety-thousand-dollar engine.”
“Today that engine started on a forty-one-dollar sensor.”