“No.”
Marcus watched him.
Elias appreciated that.
The man might be arrogant, but he was careful with conclusions.
Victoria, however, was looking down the road again.
“Could I have driven it?”
Elias answered honestly.
“For a while.”
“How long?”
“Don't know.”
“Guess.”
“I don't guess about this.”
She looked at him.
Elias continued.
“If the damaged tire hadn't forced you to stop first, another problem could have developed later.”
“At highway speed.”
“Possibly.”
Marcus's face hardened.
He turned toward his team.
“Nobody touches anything unnecessarily. Photograph the wheel, the tire, the underside, everything. Vehicle stays where it is.”
Two men moved immediately.
Another opened a rear door of one of the convoy SUVs.
“Ma'am, let's get you inside.”
Victoria did not move.
She remained beside Elias.
“What's your name?”
“Elias.”
“Last name?”
“Rowan.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Identification.”
Elias sighed.
“My wallet's in my truck.”
“One of my people will retrieve it.”
“No.”
Marcus's expression cooled.
“No?”
“You asked for my ID. I'm happy to get it.”
“You'll stay here.”
“Then you wait.”
For the first time, Victoria's mouth almost curved.
Marcus noticed.
“This isn't funny.”
“No,” she said. “It isn't.”
But something in the tension had shifted.
Elias looked again at the vehicle.
That old instinct was fully awake now.
He hated it.
Years had passed since he needed that part of his mind.
He had deliberately built a life where the most complicated thing he dealt with was a bad transmission, a seized brake caliper, or a customer who wanted a two-day repair in two hours.
That was enough.
It was supposed to be enough.
He thought of Lena sitting at their small kitchen table.
Probably homework spread around her.
Probably wearing the oversized yellow sweatshirt she stole from him every winter.
Mrs. Alvarez from next door would have made sure she ate.
Lena would insist she was not worried.
She was always worried.
After her mother disappeared from their daily life, Lena had developed an almost mathematical need for predictability.
If Elias said seven, she started watching the clock at seven-oh-one.
If he said after school, she wanted to know whether that meant three-thirty or four.
He had built his entire new life around being dependable enough that she would eventually stop expecting people to vanish.
Tonight he was failing.
His phone was still inside the truck.
He could almost feel the missed calls.
Marcus was speaking to one of his agents.
“Get the highway patrol and local police on the way. Quietly. No unnecessary radio traffic.”
Victoria glanced at him.
“You think this is credible?”
Marcus looked toward the wheel.
“Yes.”
That single word changed her.
Until then, Elias had seen wariness.
Now he saw fear.
Not panic.
Victoria Hale did not seem like someone who panicked easily.
But fear entered her eyes and stayed there.
“How long was I alone at the gas station?” she asked.
Marcus frowned.
“You weren't alone.”
“The car.”
He thought.
“Ten minutes, maybe twelve.”
“I went inside.”
“I know.”
“You were on the call with Daniel.”
Marcus looked at her sharply.
“Victoria.”
“What?”
“Not here.”
Elias pretended not to notice.
Victoria turned toward him.
“Could someone have done this in ten minutes?”
Elias hesitated.
“Someone prepared and familiar with the vehicle could cause problems quickly.”
He left it there.
No details.
He had spent too many years seeing what happened when technical knowledge ended up with the wrong audience.
Marcus studied him again.
“What exactly did you used to do?”
“Fix things.”
“That's not what I'm asking.”
“I know.”
“Mr. Rowan.”
“Marcus.”
The use of his first name annoyed him visibly.
Victoria spoke before the argument grew.
“Why did you say you've seen this before?”
Elias looked at the damaged SUV.