“You’re accusing me of causing twenty-five thousand dollars in damage.”
“We can resolve it like adults.”
“Adults can talk to police.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“You’re making a mistake.”
Avery looked at her.
“No.”
“I think one of us already did.”
Vanessa’s expression changed.
Avery reached into her bag again.
Vanessa suddenly slapped her hand downward.
Avery’s key fob flew from her fingers.
It hit wet pavement with a sharp plastic click.
For one second, neither woman moved.
Avery looked down.
Then up.
Vanessa seemed to realize she had crossed something.
But pride carried her forward.
“Stop reaching into your bag while I’m talking to you.”
Avery’s voice dropped.
“Do not touch me again.”
“I touched your hand.”
“You struck my hand.”
“Stop being dramatic.”
Avery bent to retrieve the key.
Vanessa shoved her shoulder.
Not hard enough to knock her down.
Hard enough that Avery’s heel slid half an inch on wet concrete.
Avery caught herself against the pump.
A man at another island turned.
A teenage girl near a minivan lifted her phone.
Avery straightened.
Vanessa’s face was flushed.
“Just pay what you owe.”
Avery looked at her for several seconds.
When she spoke, her voice had become almost unnervingly calm.
“You really want to keep making accusations underneath a security camera?”
Vanessa glanced upward.
That was the first moment Avery saw fear.
Tiny.
But real.
Then Vanessa laughed.
“There are cameras everywhere.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“So I was inside the store.”
Vanessa kicked the front tire of the Vesper.
Her white-and-black outfit flashed against the graphite bodywork.
“This damage didn’t make itself.”
Avery looked toward her shoe.
“If you kick my car again, we’re going to have a different problem.”
Vanessa pointed toward her SUV.
“You hit me.”
“And now you’re touching my vehicle on camera.”
“Good.”
“Let them see.”
The store door opened.
A young man ran out carrying a black tablet.
He was perhaps twenty-two, with dark curly hair, a blue station polo, and the expression of somebody who had sprinted because the truth might leave before he reached it.
“Ma’am!”
Both women turned.
The clerk nearly slipped on the wet pavement.
He caught himself.
“Wait.”
Vanessa stared.
“What?”
The young man looked at Avery.
Then Vanessa.
“I checked the cameras.”
Vanessa’s face went still.
Avery said nothing.
The clerk swallowed.
“My name’s Noah.”
He raised the tablet.
“The pump camera got everything.”
Vanessa stepped toward him.
“You have no right to record me.”
Noah blinked.
“It’s a gas station.”
“There are security cameras.”
“I’m calling your manager.”
“He’s inside.”
“Call him.”
“He saw it too.”
Vanessa’s color changed.
Avery folded her arms.
Noah tapped the screen.
“Look.”
The video played.
Rain.
Avery walking into the store.
The empty space beside her Vesper.
Then Vanessa’s silver SUV entering.
Stopping.
Reversing.
Contact.
Moving forward.
Vanessa stepping out.
Looking around.
Inspecting both cars.