Ms. Chen
Chapter 02 - Ms. Chen
The staff gathered near the office without pretending not to listen.
Riley stood behind the counter with the file open.
Blake remained on the customer side, trying to rebuild his authority from posture alone.
“You ran the VIN wrong.”
“We ran it twice.”
“Then the database is wrong.”
“Possible.”
Frank lifted one eyebrow.
“Not likely.”
Blake pointed toward the bay.
“My car has been registered for months.”
“Registration can be falsified.”
“I bought it legally.”
Riley touched the wrench in her pocket.
She remembered her father teaching her to torque wheel bolts at fifteen.
Not tight enough and the wheel could loosen. Too tight and the stud could fail.
“Respect the specification,” he had said. “Not your ego.”
She rolled her eyes.
He made her loosen and retorque every bolt.
By the end, her wrists hurt.
“Good,” he said. “Now your hands know something your pride didn’t.”
The memory steadied her.
Blake’s mouth moved before she realized he was still talking.
“Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Then explain why the car is here if you think it’s stolen.”
“Because you brought it.”
His jaw tightened.
Frank stepped closer.
“We need Detective Torres.”
“Who?”
“Auto theft task force.”
“This is absurd.”
Riley took out her phone.
Blake reached across the counter.
“Give me the report.”
She moved it beyond his hand.
“No.”
“It concerns my property.”
“It concerns reported stolen property.”
His face hardened.
“You don’t get to keep my documents.”
“These are shop records.”
“I’m calling my lawyer.”
“Do that.”
The answer stopped him.
Riley called Maya Torres.
Maya answered on the second ring.
“Please tell me this is dinner.”
“VIN discrepancy.”
The humor left Maya’s voice.
“Read it.”
Riley gave both numbers.
A keyboard clicked through the speaker.
“Secondary number?”
“Yes.”
“Hold.”
Blake folded his arms.
“This is harassment.”
Riley ignored him.
Maya returned.
“Open report. Neighboring county. Black Aston Martin, same year.”
Blake’s face changed.
Not disbelief alone.
Calculation.
“Do not release the vehicle,” Maya said.
“It’s secured.”
“Owner present?”
“He says he is.”
“Keep him there if it’s safe. Don’t physically detain.”
Blake laughed sharply.
“You don’t need to keep me anywhere.”
Maya heard him.
“Is that the registered owner?”
Riley looked at Blake.
“Yes.”
“Officers are coming.”
Riley ended the call.
Blake pulled out his phone.
“You have no right.”
Frank pointed toward the office camera.
“You slapped her on video.”
Blake’s eyes lifted to the blinking red light.
Fear showed without disguise.
“I lost my temper.”
“You assaulted an employee,” Frank said.
“She’s not an employee.”
Riley’s mouth tightened.
“That changes nothing.”
The sentence carried across the bay.
Ownership did not create the right to safety. Work did.
The owner did not deserve protection the mechanic lacked.
Riley looked at the staff.
Her secret had allowed her to work without ceremony.
It had also left Frank alone with the burden of protecting the arrangement.
That would have to change.
Blake paced near the waiting chairs.
“You’re enjoying this.”
No one answered.
The lack of attention unsettled him.
“Show me the report.”
“We’ll review it with Detective Torres.”
“Why?”
“Because this is police evidence now.”
He stepped closer.
“Do you think I stole it?”
Riley touched the wrench.
“I don’t know what you knew.”
The distinction landed.
Maya arrived in an unmarked sedan with another investigator.
She wore a brown coat and her professional face.
Her eyes went to Riley’s cheek.
“Who hit you?”
Riley nodded toward Blake.
Maya looked at the camera.
“Separate report.”
“This is getting out of control,” Blake said.
“It is becoming documented.”
Maya opened the folder.
She reviewed photographs, VIN records, and the open report.
Then she faced Blake.
“I need your purchase documents.”
“They’re at home.”
“Who sold you the car?”
“A broker.”
“Name?”
Blake hesitated.
“Carl Ashford.”
Maya wrote it down.
Recognition crossed her face.
Small.
Enough.
“What?” Riley asked.
“I know the name.”
Blake looked between them.
“This is a paperwork mistake.”
“Then paperwork will clear it,” Maya said.
She turned to Riley.
“Do not release the vehicle.”
Blake pointed at the report.
“I want a copy.”
“Through counsel,” Maya said.
He stared at Riley.
“You planned this.”
“No.”
Her cheek burned again.
“I planned to service your car.”
The rest came from what he brought through her door.
---
Maya asked Frank to pull the full intake video.
They watched the Aston Martin arrive on a flatbed two days earlier.
The driver handed over keys and a sealed envelope of documents.
Blake had not driven it in himself.
“Who arranged transport?” Maya asked.
Frank checked the work order.
“Carl Ashford’s office.”
Blake looked at the screen.
“That’s normal. Carl handles logistics.”
“Does he always?”
“For specialty cars.”
“Did you ever see this vehicle before buying it?”
Blake hesitated.
“Photographs.”
Riley looked at him.
“You wired two hundred thousand dollars without seeing the chassis.”
“I had an inspection report.”
“From whom?”
He pulled a PDF from his phone.
The report carried a company name Riley did not recognize.
No technician license.
No physical shop address.
Only a signature and photographs taken from angles that avoided secondary identification points.
Maya forwarded it to herself.
“This was designed to look complete.”
Blake seized on the phrase.
“Exactly. I was deceived.”
“Maybe,” Maya said.
“Or you selected an inspection that never asked the question you did not want answered.”
Blake looked at Riley.
“You’re all treating me like a criminal.”
Riley touched the wrench.
“You’re being treated like the person who brought the car.”
Maya requested consent to search the glove box.
Blake refused until his lawyer arrived.
That was his right.
Riley respected the boundary even while distrusting the motive.
Procedure had to remain procedure for people she disliked too.
When Blake stepped outside to call counsel, Frank leaned toward Riley.
“Your father would’ve enjoyed this part.”
“Which part?”
“Watching a rich man discover paperwork applies to him.”
May you like
Riley almost smiled.
Then her cheek tightened, reminding her why the moment was not funny yet.
