He wiped two fingers before touching the keyboard.
Katherine followed.
He typed.
A public business page opened.
Then a local newspaper profile.
Photograph.
Adrian Cross at a charity gala.
Beside him stood a younger man.
Same nose.
Same narrow eyes.
Caption:
Adrian Cross with cousin Mason Cross.
Katherine stopped breathing for one second.
James glanced toward her.
“The mechanic who told you the car was hopeless is your CFO’s cousin.”
She stared at the screen.
Then at him.
“No.”
“The photograph says otherwise.”
“I mean no.”
Her voice sharpened.
“That does not prove sabotage.”
“I didn't say it did.”
“You implied it.”
“I said the parts were wrong.”
“And you happened to recognize the surname.”
“Yes.”
“Convenient.”
James turned toward her fully.
“You think I staged this?”
“I think I don't know you.”
“Fair.”
Katherine looked back at the Ferrari.
James lowered his voice.
“Don't accuse anyone yet.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You just dropped my CFO’s name in my lap and now you're telling me to stay calm?”
“Yes.”
“That usually work on women?”
“No.”
“Then stop trying.”
James stepped closer.
“The engine tells us somebody deliberately made the car unreliable.”
“It does not tell us why.”
“It does not tell us who.”
“And it definitely does not tell us whether your CFO had anything to do with it.”
Katherine met his eyes.
“What would tell us?”
“Records.”
“What records?”
“Every invoice.”
“Every service ticket.”
“Every part order.”
“Every photograph taken during previous repairs.”
“And if Marlow has nothing?”
James looked toward the Ferrari.
“Cars remember things paperwork doesn't.”
Katherine frowned.
“That sounds poetic for a mechanic.”
“I contain multitudes.”
She gave him a cold look.
He smiled.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“The terrifying woman my daughter likes.”
Katherine should have left.
Instead she remained until nearly seven.
James worked.
She watched.
At six fifteen, Olivia Cooper arrived from school carrying a backpack almost as large as she was.
She entered through the side door.
Stopped.
Saw Katherine.
Then looked at her father.
“No.”
James did not look away from the engine.
“Hello to you too.”
Olivia approached slowly.
She had her father's gray-blue eyes and curly brown hair pulled into an uneven ponytail.
She stared at Katherine.
“You're Katherine Vaughn.”
Katherine smiled.
“Apparently.”
Olivia turned toward James.
“You didn't tell me Katherine Vaughn was here.”
“You were doing algebra.”
“I could have stopped.”
“For what?”
Olivia looked appalled by the question.
“To meet Katherine Vaughn.”
James finally glanced at his daughter.
“You said she was terrifying.”
“I meant impressive.”
“You used terrifying.”
“Same category.”
Katherine laughed.
A real laugh this time.
Olivia beamed.
James pointed toward a stool.
“Homework.”
“You ruin everything.”
“Genetically obligated.”
Olivia sat with theatrical suffering.
Twenty minutes later, Katherine found herself helping her solve a geometry problem while James inspected a mechanical fuel pump.
That moment should have felt absurd.
It did.