“You’re speaking to her.”
Daniel gave a short laugh.
Not loud.
But unmistakable.
The kind of laugh suggesting someone had offered an answer too ridiculous to deserve serious consideration.
Behind him, Claire stepped out of the patrol SUV.
She had heard enough through the open door to understand where the interaction was headed.
She looked toward Daniel.
Then Elena.
Then the Lamborghini.
“Sheriff.”
Daniel extended one hand toward Elena.
“License and registration.”
Elena watched his hand.
“May I ask why?”
“Routine verification.”
“Verification of what?”
Daniel’s jaw shifted slightly.
“License and registration, please.”
Elena had handled aggressive negotiators, hostile executives, attorneys who used volume as a substitute for substance, and investors who assumed patience meant weakness.
She knew when questions would produce useful answers and when they would only create a stage.
This was beginning to look like the second kind.
She reached toward the open Lamborghini.
Daniel’s voice snapped immediately.
“Slowly.”
Elena stopped.
Her hand remained visible.
For the first time, irritation reached her face.
“You just told me to retrieve documents from inside my car.”
“Then do it slowly.”
Elena held his gaze.
“Understood.”
She leaned into the cabin deliberately.
A leather document holder rested in the center console.
Her driver’s license was inside it because she had needed both documents earlier that morning for an insurance review.
She removed the holder.
Closed the car door.
Walked back.
Daniel accepted it.
He opened the folder.
Colorado driver’s license.
ELENA MARIE VANCE.
Same photograph.
Same woman.
Registration.
2025 LAMBORGHINI HURACÁN TECNICA.
Registered owner:
ELENA MARIE VANCE.
Address in Aspen.
Insurance card.
Same name.
Everything matched.
Daniel read it.
Claire watched his face.
There should have been a simple ending.
Thank you, ma’am.
Have a safe afternoon.
Instead Daniel looked up.
“How did you get this car?”
Elena stared at him.
The question was so naked that for a moment she found it almost useful.
“I bought it.”
“With what?”
Claire shifted.
“Sheriff.”
Daniel lifted one hand without looking at her.
Elena saw the gesture.
Dismissal.
Familiar.
She looked toward the registration still in his hand.
“You asked for identification and registration.”
“I gave you both.”
“Yes.”
“And both documents match me.”
“Yes.”
“So what exactly are you investigating now?”
Daniel looked toward the Lamborghini.
“Cars like this get stolen.”
Elena nodded once.
“Is this car reported stolen?”
“No.”
“Is the VIN altered?”
“I haven’t checked.”
“Does the registration return stolen?”
Claire spoke before Daniel could.
“No.”
He turned sharply.
Claire stopped.
Elena saw it.
Important.
The deputy knew the answer but had already learned how expensive it could be to contradict the sheriff publicly.
Daniel looked back at Elena.
“Fraud happens.”
“People borrow expensive vehicles.”
“Documents can be forged.”
Elena’s expression cooled.
“Anything can happen.”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't create evidence that it did.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“You an attorney?”
“No.”
“What do you do?”
Elena smiled faintly.
“That has nothing to do with ownership of the car.”
“Maybe it does.”
“How?”