“Go ahead and get it.”
Marcus reached into his pocket slowly and handed it over.
Hayes checked.
Address matched.
Ruiz walked toward the Challenger.
Diane followed.
“That is the vehicle.”
Ruiz looked at her.
“Please stay back for now.”
Diane stopped but continued talking.
“I have the purchase agreement.”
Marcus leaned against the workbench.
“Show him the VIN.”
She turned.
“I don't need instructions from you.”
Hayes looked between them.
“You two know each other?”
Marcus nodded.
“HOA president.”
Diane added:
“For five years.”
Hayes gave a tiny expression Marcus couldn't interpret.
“Okay.”
Ruiz crouched near the windshield.
“VIN plate is visible.”
Marcus called:
“Registration folder is in the glove box. I can open it if you want.”
Ruiz nodded.
“Do it slowly.”
Marcus approached.
Opened the passenger door.
Removed a thick envelope.
Handed it over.
Insurance records.
Registration.
Purchase documentation.
Restoration invoices.
Eleven years of maintenance receipts.
Ruiz scanned the registration.
Then looked at Diane.
Then back at Marcus.
“When did you purchase this?”
“April 18, 2015.”
“From?”
“Samuel Brennan in Virginia.”
“Title in your name?”
“Yes.”
Ruiz checked the VIN again.
It matched.
Diane watched.
Her expression tightened.
“No.”
Ruiz glanced toward her.
“What?”
“The seller showed me the title.”
“Do you have it?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see.”
Diane opened her phone.
Found the PDF.
Ruiz looked.
Hayes came beside him.
Marcus stayed away.
After several seconds Hayes asked:
“Can you enlarge the VIN?”
Diane did.
Hayes read it.
Then looked toward the car.
Same number.
Diane pointed triumphantly.
“See?”
Marcus shook his head.
“That proves the scammer copied my VIN.”
Diane turned.
“Stop calling him a scammer.”
Marcus stared.
“You sent twenty-five thousand dollars to a stranger who sent you a photo of my title.”
“It wasn't your title.”
Hayes interrupted.
“Let's not argue.”
She looked at Diane.
“Did you receive an original paper title?”
“No.”
“Did you meet the seller?”
“No.”
“Did you inspect the vehicle?”
“The seller said it was in climate-controlled storage.”
“Did you call the state motor-vehicle office to verify ownership?”
Diane's face hardened.
“He provided everything.”
Hayes stayed calm.
“That's not what I asked.”
Marcus almost smiled.
Diane noticed.
“Don't you dare.”
Marcus raised both hands.
“I didn't say anything.”
Hayes asked:
“How did you pay?”
“Wire transfer.”
“To a business?”
“Travis Heritage Motors.”
“Bank?”
Diane showed her.
Hayes read.
Then her expression changed slightly.
“Was this domestic?”
“Yes.”
“Account holder?”
Diane hesitated.
“Michael Travis.”
Hayes and Ruiz exchanged a look.
Marcus caught it.
So did Diane.
“What?”
Hayes asked:
“Do you have the listing URL?”
“Yes.”
“Send it to me.”
Diane did.
Ruiz entered something on his department tablet.
Then stopped.
His face became serious.
“Lauren.”
Hayes looked.
Ruiz angled the screen.
Diane stepped closer.
“What?”
Hayes raised her hand.
“Give us a moment.”
Diane's confidence finally cracked.
Marcus watched quietly.
Ruiz said:
“This listing platform already flagged the seller profile yesterday.”
Diane stared.
“What?”
“Multiple complaints.”
“No.”
Hayes looked at the report.
“Fraudulent vehicle advertisements.”
Diane's lips parted.
Ruiz continued:
“Three complaints this month.”
Marcus stopped leaning.
That was no longer funny.
Diane looked at her phone.
“That's impossible.”
Hayes said:
“Ma'am, the vehicle here is registered to Mr. Reed.”
Diane looked at Marcus.
“No.”
“The VIN matches his registration.”
“But I paid for it.”
Hayes softened her voice.
“You paid someone.”
Diane stared.
Hayes continued.
“That does not mean the seller owned the car.”
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Then Ruiz looked at Diane's digital title.
“There's another problem.”
“What?”
He zoomed in.
“Document number.”
Diane stared.
“What about it?”
“It doesn't match the format currently used by the state listed here.”
Marcus moved closer.
“Forged?”
Ruiz nodded slowly.
“Looks that way.”
Diane's face lost color.
Hayes held out her hand.
“Ma'am, I need you to contact your bank immediately.”
Diane did not move.
Hayes repeated:
“Right now.”
Diane looked toward the Challenger.
Then Marcus.
Then the officers.
Her anger had nowhere left to go.
Finally she whispered:
“He sold me a car he didn't own.”
Marcus answered quietly.
“Yes.”
Diane's voice broke.
“I sent him twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Marcus nodded.
“I know.”
Hayes began giving instructions.
Call the bank's fraud department.
Request an immediate recall.
Do not contact the seller again until officers documented the communication.
Save messages.
Save emails.
Do not delete the listing.
Diane followed directions mechanically.
The neighbors who had gathered began drifting away.
Nobody laughed.
That surprised Marcus.
Even Helen Ward lowered her phone.
Because public embarrassment looked different once twenty-five thousand dollars entered the story.
Diane finished the bank call.
The transfer had already cleared.
A recall request would be sent.
No guarantee.
She lowered the phone.
Ruiz asked:
“How did you find the listing?”
Diane blinked.
“What?”
“The advertisement.”
“I saw it online.”
“Where?”
“A classic vehicle marketplace.”
“Did you search for this specific model?”
“Yes.”
“Anything unusual about the listing?”
“No.”
Marcus spoke.
“Except all the pictures were mine.”
Diane looked at him.
He did not say it cruelly.
Ruiz asked:
“Mr. Reed, where were those photographs posted?”
Marcus thought.
“One from my classic-car club page.”
“Public?”
“Yes.”
“One from the Briarwood charity show.”
“Public event?”
“Yes.”
“Any others?”
Marcus looked again at Diane's phone.
The next photograph showed the Challenger inside his garage.
That made him pause.
“Wait.”
He stepped closer.
“Go back.”
Diane obeyed.
Marcus pointed.
“That one.”
The image showed the car inside the garage.
Door open.
Tool cabinets visible.
A bicycle hanging from the wall.
Hayes asked:
“Public photo?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I don't think so.”
“Social media?”