Chapter 20 - The Sound Behind the Threat
Mom made us listen to every impact wrench in Miller’s Automotive.
To normal people, they all sounded like violent metal rattles.
To Evelyn Vance, apparently, each had a personality.
Carl’s half-inch pneumatic gun had a deep three-beat hammer.
Travis’s compact gun whined slightly before impact.
Bay Two’s old Ingersoll-Rand coughed once whenever the trigger opened.
The sound behind the threatening call had been smoother.
Higher pitched.
Almost electric.
“A battery impact,” Travis said.
Mom shook her head.
“No. Too much air exhaust.”
She asked Sheriff Higgins if he could recover the voicemail-quality recording from phone logs.
The call had not been recorded.
But I had been standing close enough to hear it.
Mom made me describe the sound.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Finally Travis opened a tool catalog.
“Twin-hammer pneumatic.”
Mom pointed.
“Listen.”
He pulled up a demonstration video.
There it was.
Same rhythm.
But that still proved nothing.
Then Mom remembered another sound.
A bell.
Three notes.
Metallic.
Repeated every few seconds.
Ray frowned.
“Shop door?”
“No.”
Travis suddenly stood.
“Tire machine.”
He grabbed his keys.
Twenty minutes later, we were parked across from Apex AutoCare’s temporary service center on the other side of town.
Their technicians were working inside.
Through the open bay, we heard it.
Impact gun.
Then three metallic chimes from an automated wheel balancer.
Same pattern.
My stomach tightened.
“You think Preston called from here?”
“Or someone working for him.”
Sheriff Higgins needed more than sound.
He got it the next morning.
Apex fired a technician named Mason Reed.
Mason responded by walking directly into the sheriff’s office.
He brought screenshots.
Texts.
Payments.
Instructions.
Preston’s regional operations manager had paid him to obtain Miller’s security code through an alarm subcontractor.
He had also been instructed to remove “historical documentation relating to Vale Transport.”
Mason claimed he never entered the shop.
Another man had done that.
But he had made the threatening phone call.
“Why?” Sheriff Higgins asked.
Mason stared at the table.
“Because I was told to scare her.”
“Who told you?”
Mason hesitated.
Then he whispered.
“Preston.”
Within hours, warrants were being prepared.
But when deputies arrived at Preston Vale’s house, he was gone.
His office was empty.
His company laptop had been wiped.
His phone was turned off.
Preston had disappeared.
The local news went wild.
APEX EXECUTIVE SOUGHT FOR QUESTIONING.
Then something worse happened.
Apex corporate headquarters released a statement.
They blamed Preston entirely.
They claimed he had acted without authorization.
They suspended him.
They promised cooperation.
Most importantly, they said the company still intended to build its regional service center.
Right around Miller’s Automotive.
Ray threw the newspaper across the counter.
“So even if Preston goes down, Apex stays.”
Mom read the statement.
Travis paced.
“They’ll bury him and keep the land.”
Mom looked at the map.
Apex owned almost everything surrounding the shop.
“They don’t need to bury Preston.”
“What?”
“They need us to focus on him.”
I frowned.
Mom tapped the Apex development plan.
“Preston isn’t the whole problem.”
She pointed to a small signature block.
Approval: Executive Development Committee.
Five names.
Preston was only one.
Mom looked up.
“This wasn’t one man’s scheme.”
May you like
The room went silent.
“It was a company plan.”
