"Will you get Grandpa's keys back?" she asked.
"I'm doing everything I can."
"Mom says you keep promising things you can control and worrying about things you can't." Hope tipped her head. "That's a hard way to live, Daddy."
Clayton laughed softly and lifted her bicycle onto the grass. She had repeated Erica's advice more accurately than either adult would have expected. He promised her one thing he could control: he would keep looking at the records until he understood what had happened. Then he bought her an ice cream, and they sat together until it melted faster than she could eat it.
On Monday, October 12, the shop stayed busy with ordinary repairs, but nobody in the building mistook that for security. The bank had not released the floor-plan line, the city still held twelve vehicles, and customer deposits were sitting in a separate account Clayton refused to touch for operating expenses. Sherman showed him updated payroll figures and pointed out that they had only a short time before the next round of supplier invoices came due.
A technician named Luis, who had worked on the fleet radios, asked whether he should look for another job before the situation became worse. Clayton told him he would understand if he did. He did not want loyalty to become another way of trapping somebody who needed to feed a family. Luis thanked him and said he would stay through the week because the shop had treated him fairly for five years, but he wanted truthful updates. Clayton agreed.
At dinner that night, Erica watched him move food around his plate without eating much. Her own hospital shift had been difficult, and she had spent the afternoon comforting the family of a patient whose surgery had been delayed. She recognized the hollow look that comes when someone has used all their energy remaining composed in public.
"Clay," she said, "are you frightened of the contract, or of what happens when you prove they lied?"
He looked up. "Both. If I lose the contract, the shop may survive, but not without hurting people who did nothing wrong. If the evidence is as bad as it looks, the men involved have spent years learning how to avoid consequences. I don't know how far they'll go to keep doing it."
"Then let Rosa and the independent people do their jobs," Erica replied. "You are allowed to be the man who keeps the shop open. You don't have to be your own police department."
The telephone rang near nine. Rosa's voice was unusually direct. Sutcliffe had applied for a search warrant covering the shop's server, digital media, and business records he described as related to the disputed fleet. A judge had approved the warrant for the following morning. Rosa had obtained the notice through the lawful service process and was arranging to be present when officers arrived.
Clayton stood so quickly his chair struck the floor. "They've had two weeks to look at the actual city contract, and now they're going to search the shop?"