For some reason, the familiar smell reminded him of his father's garage.
He walked toward the Jaguar.
It was covered with a protective sheet.
Thomas removed it carefully.
The green paint appeared beneath the fluorescent lights.
He rested one hand on the roof.
“Where did you take me this time, Daniel?”
A voice came from behind him.
“Looking for something?”
Thomas turned.
It was Ryan.
He was carrying two cups of coffee.
Thomas smiled.
“You're early.”
“So are you.”
Ryan handed him a cup.
“Black.”
Thomas accepted it.
“Thank you.”
Ryan looked at the key in Thomas's hand.
“Did you find out what it opens?”
“Not yet.”
“Any ideas?”
Thomas shook his head.
“Daniel used numbers for everything.”
“Maybe it's a locker.”
Thomas stopped.
Ryan continued.
“Old workshops had lockers.”
Thomas looked around.
There were several metal cabinets along the back wall.
Ryan walked over.
“Seventeen?”
He counted.
“One. Two. Three…”
Thomas followed.
At the far end was an old gray locker.
Number 17.
Thomas stared at it.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Thomas inserted the key.
It fit.
He turned it.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside was almost nothing.
A cardboard box.
An old pair of mechanic's gloves.
A faded photograph.
And a small cassette tape.
Thomas picked up the photograph first.
It showed Daniel standing beside five young mechanics.
Thomas recognized the workshop.
It was the same building they were now using for the apprenticeship program.
The photograph had been taken in 1998.
The year Daniel started his first workshop.
Thomas turned it over.
On the back was a handwritten message.
“Five students. Five chances. Don't let the number stop there.”
Thomas smiled.
“He really believed in this.”
Ryan nodded.
“What else?”
Thomas picked up the cassette.
There was a handwritten label.
For Tom.
His hands began to shake.
“Do you have anything that can play this?”
Ryan thought for a moment.
“Maybe.”
An hour later, they were sitting in a small office at the workshop.
David had found an old cassette player in storage.
The machine looked ancient.
Ryan placed the tape inside.
Thomas sat directly in front of it.
The tape began with static.
Then a voice.
Daniel's voice.
Young.
Clear.
Alive.
“Tom, if you're listening to this, then I suppose things didn't go exactly as planned.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
Ryan looked away.
Daniel continued.
“I don't know how long this tape will survive. I don't know if you'll ever hear it. But I needed to say some things without you interrupting me.”
Thomas laughed softly.
“That sounds like you.”
Daniel's recorded voice continued.
“I know you think I'm wasting my life.”
Thomas opened his eyes.
“I know you think the cars are foolish. The workshop is foolish. The kids are foolish.”
There was a pause.
“But they're not.”
Thomas looked down.
“They remind me of us.”
The tape crackled.
“When we were young, Dad didn't ask whether we could afford to make mistakes. He let us make them.”
Thomas smiled.
“Remember the engine we destroyed?”
Ryan glanced at him.
Thomas nodded.
“That's what made us mechanics.”
Daniel continued.
“That's what these kids need. Someone who will let them make mistakes without deciding they're failures.”
The tape went quiet for several seconds.
Then Daniel's voice changed.
More serious.
“There is something else.”
Thomas leaned closer.
“I sold the Jaguar.”
Thomas knew that.
“But not for the reason I told you.”
Thomas froze.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“I told everyone I sold it because Martha needed surgery.”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“That was true.”
“But it wasn't the whole truth.”
The tape crackled.
“I was being threatened.”
Thomas's face went pale.
Ryan leaned forward.
“By whom?”
Daniel's recorded voice continued.
“There was a man named Victor Hale.”
Thomas frowned.
He knew the name.
Everyone in the classic-car industry knew it.
Victor Hale had once been one of the country's largest collectors.
He had owned dozens of rare vehicles.
But his reputation was controversial.
He had been accused of buying cars through questionable deals.
Daniel continued.
“Victor wanted the Jaguar.”
Thomas's jaw tightened.
“He offered me money.”
The tape crackled.
“I refused.”
Thomas whispered:
“Why?”
Daniel answered as though he could hear him.
“Because I knew what he intended to do with it.”
Ryan looked confused.
“What?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I don't know.”
The tape continued.
“He wanted to use the car to establish ownership of several parts that weren't legally his.”
Thomas stared.
“What?”
Daniel explained.
“The Jaguar contains original components from another vehicle. Components Victor claimed belonged to him.”
Thomas's mind raced.
“So the car wasn't just a car.”
“No.”
Daniel's voice became quieter.
“It was evidence.”
Thomas froze.
Ryan stared at him.
Daniel continued.
“I refused to sell it to Victor.”
A pause.
“Then the threats started.”
Thomas felt cold.
“They threatened Martha.”
Ryan whispered:
“Jesus.”
Daniel continued.
“I had no choice.”
The tape crackled again.
“I sold the Jaguar through a third party.”
Thomas leaned forward.
“To whom?”
Daniel's voice became barely audible.
“I made sure Victor didn't get it.”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“Who?”
The tape stopped.
Silence.
Ryan checked the player.
“That's it?”
“No.”
Thomas pointed.
“Turn it over.”
Ryan turned the cassette.
There was another side.
He pressed play.
Static.
Then Daniel's voice returned.
“If you found this, then you probably already know about the hidden compartment.”
Thomas looked toward the Jaguar.
“The car has something inside it that Victor never found.”
Thomas's heart began pounding.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“Proof.”
Thomas stood.
Ryan looked at him.
“Proof of what?”
Daniel's voice answered.
“Proof that Victor Hale illegally acquired several vehicles and parts through fraudulent ownership transfers.”
Thomas stared at the tape player.
His brother had known.
He had known that the Jaguar contained evidence.
And he had hidden it.
Daniel continued.
“I couldn't take it to the police because I was afraid of what would happen to Martha.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“I thought if I could hide the evidence, protect her, and get the car away from Victor, I could deal with everything later.”
The tape crackled.
“But there wasn't a later.”
Thomas sat down.
Daniel's voice softened.
“Tom, I need you to understand something.”
A pause.
“I wasn't afraid of dying.”
Thomas began crying.
“I was afraid you would blame yourself.”
The room became completely silent.
Daniel continued.
“You always think you should have done more.”
Thomas whispered:
“I should have.”
“No.”
Daniel's recorded voice seemed to answer him.
“You loved me.”
Thomas covered his face.
“That was enough.”
Ryan looked away, giving him privacy.
Daniel's voice continued.
“If you find the proof, don't use it for revenge.”
Thomas lowered his hands.
“Use it to protect people.”
There was another pause.
“And if you ever find yourself standing in front of someone who looks insignificant, remember me.”
Thomas stared at the speaker.
“I looked insignificant to a lot of people.”
The tape ended.
No dramatic music.
No final message.
Just silence.
Thomas remained seated.
Ryan eventually spoke.
“Mr. Reed…”
Thomas shook his head.
“Thomas.”
Ryan nodded.
“Thomas.”
He looked at the Jaguar.
“What kind of proof could still be inside that car after twenty-three years?”
Thomas stood.
“I don't know.”
David entered the office.
“I heard voices.”
Ryan turned.
“David, you need to hear this.”
They played the tape again.
David listened without interrupting.
When it ended, he looked deeply concerned.
“Victor Hale?”
Thomas nodded.
“Do you know where he is?”
David shook his head.
“He died eight years ago.”
Thomas looked relieved.
Then David added:
“But his company didn't.”
Thomas frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“His son took over.”
“Name?”
“Michael Hale.”
Thomas's expression changed.
“Michael Hale owns Blackwood Restoration.”
David nodded.
The same company that had sent them the letter demanding the Jaguar.
Thomas slowly understood.
“That isn't a coincidence.”
“No.”
Ryan looked at the Jaguar.
“They want the car because they know what's inside.”
Thomas nodded.
“But they don't know where.”
Ryan looked at him.