Blake's Panic
Chapter 07 - Blake's Panic
Blake called Chen Auto at seven the next morning.
Frank answered.
Riley listened from the back office while holding her father’s wrench against her palm.
“I need access to the Aston Martin,” Blake said.
“No.”
“My attorney says I may retrieve personal property.”
“Detective Torres controls access.”
“There are documents in the glove box.”
“Tell her.”
Blake’s voice sharpened.
“This shop is creating unnecessary damage.”
Frank looked toward Riley.
“No. Your seller created the damage.”
The call ended.
An hour later, Maya arrived.
“Blake tried to move the G-Wagon.”
Riley set down the wrench.
“Where?”
“A transport company received a rush order for an out-of-state delivery.”
“After you contacted him?”
“Yes.”
“Destination?”
“A dealer in Nevada.”
Frank folded his arms.
“He was selling it.”
“Trying to.”
Maya’s team intercepted the carrier before loading.
The vehicle’s chassis number matched a stolen report from Illinois.
Blake told officers he had arranged the sale before learning about the investigation.
The transport order timestamp proved otherwise.
Riley looked toward the sealed Aston Martin.
“He knew enough to panic.”
Maya nodded.
“Obstruction may become an issue.”
---
Blake arrived with attorney Thomas Keene before noon.
He did not enter the bay.
He waited in the conference room, where the security camera recorded every angle.
Keene placed both hands on the table.
“My client wishes to cooperate.”
Maya sat across from him.
“After attempting to move evidence.”
“It was not evidence when the sale was arranged.”
Maya slid over the timestamp.
Blake looked at it.
His face tightened.
“I was trying to protect my investment.”
“By transferring a potentially stolen vehicle across state lines?”
“I didn’t know it was stolen.”
“You knew the Aston Martin was under investigation.”
“That’s a different car.”
Riley watched from beside Frank.
The defense sounded like Blake’s argument about the scratch.
Each fact kept separate so none could form a pattern.
Maya opened the file.
“Did Carl tell you to move it?”
Blake hesitated.
Keene touched his sleeve.
“No answer until immunity terms are discussed.”
Maya closed the file.
“Then no cooperation credit yet.”
Blake looked at Riley.
“You caused this.”
She touched the wrench.
“I read a number stamped into metal.”
“You held the car.”
“The law held the car.”
He looked toward the door.
His old certainty had collapsed into motion without direction.
Keene asked for a private break.
---
Riley returned to the bay.
A customer waited near a restored Mustang.
She explained a carburetor delay, reviewed costs, and answered questions.
Work steadied her.
A stuck bolt did not care about social standing.
A repair did not improve because someone spoke louder.
Frank joined her near the parts washer.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“That answer is becoming suspicious.”
Riley smiled faintly.
“I am working.”
“Your father used that excuse.”
“He taught it well.”
Frank wiped his hands on a rag.
“Blake is dangerous when cornered.”
“Maya knows.”
“I mean to you.”
Riley looked through the office glass.
Blake sat with his attorney, shoulders bent.
“He hit me when he thought I had no power.”
“Yes.”
“Now he knows I do.”
“That doesn’t make him safer.”
Riley touched the wrench.
“No. Documentation does.”
She ordered security upgrades that afternoon.
Panic buttons.
Camera retention.
No customer access beyond the front counter without staff escort.
The assault would change policy, not merely memory.
---
Keene requested another interview at four.
Blake agreed to surrender all vehicles bought through Carl and provide accounts, messages, and buyer records.
Maya warned him not to contact Carl.
He nodded.
Then his phone buzzed on the table.
A message preview appeared.
CARL: Move whatever you still have tonight.
Everyone saw it.
Keene closed his eyes.
Maya photographed the screen.
Blake stared at the message as though it belonged to someone else.
His attorney leaned close.
“Full cooperation is your only useful option now.”
The attempted sale had turned suspicion into conduct.
Blake’s panic had given investigators the connection they needed.
---
Blake’s lawyer asked Riley to release a briefcase from the Aston Martin.
Maya supervised.
They opened the vehicle in the evidence bay while body cameras recorded.
The briefcase sat behind the passenger seat.
Inside were development contracts, prescription glasses, and a silver flask.
No secret title papers.
No dramatic evidence.
Blake signed the property receipt.
His hands shook.
Riley noticed and disliked that she noticed.
“You think I’m going to prison,” he said.
“I think you need to listen to your lawyer.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“You didn’t answer me when I asked what you knew.”
He looked down.
“I liked that Carl made things easy.”
Riley waited.
“No auctions. No inspections. No people telling me no.”
“That was the service.”
“What?”
“Not the car. The absence of resistance.”
Blake looked at her.
The idea reached him slowly.
Carl had sold more than stolen vehicles.
He sold wealthy buyers freedom from ordinary scrutiny.
Blake closed the briefcase.
“I didn’t think anyone got hurt.”
“Someone woke up without a car.”
“I mean personally.”
Riley’s cheek tightened.
“That is the problem.”
Maya ended the exchange.
Blake left with his property.
May you like
Riley watched him cross the parking lot on foot.
For the first time, inconvenience belonged to him.
