Chapter 3 - UNDER THE REAR WHEEL
Claire ordered everyone away from the vehicle.
Ryan protested until security escorted him to a glass office overlooking the showroom.
Not out of the building.
He was still an employee.
Still entitled to process.
Just not control.
Walter watched him go.
“You should check beneath the rear platform.”
Claire looked at him.
“The bag went the other direction.”
“I know.”
That was strange.
Daniel crouched near the car.
The coupe sat on low black display pads beneath each wheel.
He reached beneath the rear-right pad.
Nothing.
Claire checked the opposite side.
Her fingers touched paper.
A folded yellow sheet had slid halfway beneath the tire support.
She pulled it free.
Walter exhaled.
“That's it.”
Carbon paper.
Grease stain at one corner.
Old dealership header:
BENNETT MOTOR IMPORTS — SERVICE MOVEMENT AUTHORIZATION
Date:
June 18, 2004.
Vehicle:
1999 Halcyon Royale V12
Partial chassis number.
Destination:
Loading Bay C
Time:
11:30 PM
Authorized by:
F. BENNETT
Driver:
Two initials.
G.C.
Claire stared.
Daniel already knew.
Walter looked toward Ryan's office.
Claire followed.
“No.”
Walter said.
“Ryan wasn't there.”
“He would have been twelve.”
“Thirteen.”
Claire looked at the initials again.
“Graham Cole.”
Ryan's father.
Graham Cole had been Frank Bennett's sales director.
He had also been Claire's godfather for the first nine years of her life.
Then Graham left the company suddenly.
Claire had always been told:
Inventory irregularities.
Bad judgment.
Quiet separation.
He died eight years ago.
Ryan joined Bennett Cole Motors after college despite the old family fracture.
Claire had considered hiring him proof they were not still fighting their fathers' war.
Apparently the war had left paperwork.
Daniel asked Walter:
“You saw Graham driving?”
Walter nodded.
“Eleven thirty-six.”
“Why remember the minute?”
“Because I was supposed to clock out at eleven thirty.”
Claire folded the paper carefully.
“What happened?”
Walter looked at her.
“Graham backed the car down the service ramp.”
“Why?”
“He said your father wanted it positioned for a private inspection.”
“At midnight?”
“Yes.”
“Normal?”
“No.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“And the dent?”
Walter's mouth tightened.
“The loading bay had a steel guard post. Graham was watching the mirror instead of the rear quarter.”
He pointed.
“Caught it right there.”
Claire looked at the crease.
Twenty-two years later.
Same shape.
“Did he panic?”
“No.”
“What did he do?”
“Got out. Swore. Told me to get rubbing compound.”
“That wouldn't fix this.”
“He knew.”
Walter looked toward the polished body.
“He just wanted the scrape less obvious.”
Daniel asked:
“Then what?”
Walter's voice slowed.
“Graham drove it back inside.”
Ryan's office door opened.
He stood in the doorway despite security telling him to remain inside.
“You're lying.”
Walter looked at him.
“No.”
“My father stole that car.”
The sentence surprised Claire.
Not because of the accusation.
Because Ryan said it like something he'd heard before.
Walter shook his head.
“No.”
Ryan stared.
Walter continued.
“Your father drove it.”
He tapped the work order in Claire's hand.
“He dented it.”
Then:
“But Graham Cole was not the man who took it.”
Ryan's face changed.
Claire looked from him to Walter.
“Then who did?”
Walter stared at the signature of her dead father.
“I didn't see.”
That sounded like another lie.
Daniel thought so too.
“You're doing it again.”
Walter met his eyes.
“No.”
Then:
“I saw Graham bring it back.”
He pointed toward the service-bay diagram printed on the reverse.
“At twelve fifteen, it was inside.”
Daniel frowned.
“The reported theft window began at eleven forty.”
“I know.”
Claire looked at him sharply.
“So the original timeline was wrong.”
Walter nodded.
“By at least thirty-five minutes.”
Daniel asked:
“Who changed it?”
May you like
Walter looked at Claire.
“Her father.”
