Ryder followed.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have a meeting.”
“You just left nineteen million dollars on a metal chair.”
“It’s paper.”
Theodore looked back.
“The money stays where it is until your attorneys verify and accept it.”
“I don’t have attorneys.”
“You will.”
Ryder stared.
Theodore held out his hand.
Ryder shook it automatically.
“Why me?”
This time the older man did not answer immediately.
Finally:
“Because once, when I was twenty-six, somebody bet on me before I looked like a safe bet.”
Theodore’s gaze moved across the garage.
“I have spent forty years trying not to forget what that felt like.”
Then he walked to the sedan.
Ryder remained outside.
Theodore opened the driver’s door.
“One more thing.”
Ryder waited.
“My daughter still owes you one hundred ninety-nine dollars.”
Ryder almost smiled.
“That part’s between me and her.”
“Exactly.”
The sedan left.
Ryder stood there holding the envelope.
Then he went back inside.
He placed it on the workbench.
He stared at it.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Then the commuter customer appeared at the side door.
“Ryder?”
He turned.
“Yeah?”
“My ride’s here. You think it’ll be done by noon?”
Ryder looked at the transmission machine.
Then at the envelope containing nineteen million dollars.
Then back at the customer.
“Yeah.”
“Still three twenty?”
“Still three twenty.”
“Thanks.”
She left.
Ryder returned to work.
For the next three hours, he did exactly what he had planned before Theodore Sterling entered his life.
Transmission service.
Oil change.
Brake pads.
When Carl Briggs arrived at eleven twenty, Ryder lifted the pickup.
Carl stood beside him.
“So?”
“Pads are done.”
“Rotors?”
“Fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“The chain place says replace everything.”
“The chain place likes your money.”
Carl laughed.
“How much to do the rotors anyway?”
Ryder looked at him.
“Why would I?”
“Because you’ve got them apart.”
“They’re within spec.”
“Ryder.”
“What?”
“You never learned capitalism.”
“I’m hanging on.”
Carl paid.
Left.
Ryder locked the office door.
Then called Dennis.
“Come over.”
Dennis appeared four minutes later carrying coffee.
“What broke?”
“Nothing.”
“You sound weird.”
Ryder handed him the letter.
Dennis read.
Then looked up.
Then read again.
“What the hell?”
“Exactly.”
“Is this real?”
“I don’t know.”
“Nineteen million?”
“Yes.”
Dennis sat down without being invited.
“Do you know how many hardware stores that buys?”
“I run a garage.”
“I’m thinking personally.”
“Stop.”
Dennis read the letter again.
“Sterling?”
“Yes.”
“As in Victoria?”
“Her father.”
Dennis’s mouth fell open.
“He came here?”
“This morning.”