to use Rick and Noah as payment,” I said.
Laura suddenly came back on the line.
“Craig, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
“You know how difficult everything has been.”
“I know exactly how difficult you’ve made everything.”
I hung up.
For the first time in eleven years, I didn’t feel guilty after ending a conversation with her.
I went downstairs.
By six-thirty, I was at the shop.
The Mercedes was already gone.
But the photographs were still there.
Every stage of the repair had been documented.
Before.
During.
After.
Damaged suspension.
Bent components.
Crushed bodywork.
Replacement parts.
Paintwork.
Alignment.
Final inspection.
I had learned years ago that good mechanics didn’t just repair cars.
They documented everything.
I opened the folder containing the Mercedes paperwork.
At the bottom was the signed agreement.
Laura’s signature.
Brent’s signature.
Date.
Time.
Vehicle identification number.
Invoice number.
I scanned everything into my computer.
Then
