Avery stood with the phone in her hand for a moment. She wrote the name down on the message pad on the counter. Robert Hail called 5:58 p. M. And left it where Darius would see it in the morning.
She found out who Robert Hail was the next morning and not from Darius. She found out from Terrence who arrived at the shop at his usual time and saw the message on the counter and went very still in the way that Terrence went still when something was significant. Robert Hail called. He said to no one in particular last night. Avery said after hours I happened to be here.
Terrence looked at the message then out the window then at Avery. How much do you know about this shop's history? He said what I've observed. She said. And what Darius has told me, which is not a lot.
Terrence was quiet for a moment. Then he sat down on the stool near the counter, something she had never seen him do, and looked at her with the expression of a man deciding how much to say. Robert Hail owns four auto shops across Atlanta, he said. Two in Buckhead, one in Midtown, one in Decar. He's been trying to acquire this building for 8 years.
He paused. He was the primary investor in a deal that would have bought out Coleman's three years ago. Darius turned it down. Avery absorbed this. Why?
Because his father built this place. Terrence paused again. And because Hail's model is volume throughput, fast work, high turnover, cheap parts. He underpays his mechanics and overcharges his customers and his shops survive because he's got the capital to absorb the complaints. His voice was steady, but had something underneath it that wasn't quite anger, closer to the particular fatigue of someone who has watched something valuable be threatened for a long time.
Marcus built Coleman's on the opposite principle. Do it right or don't do it. So why is Hail calling now? Terrence looked at the message. I don't know, he said.
But I know Darius hasn't told me he's been in contact with him, which means either the conversation is new. He stopped. "Or he didn't want you to know," she said. "Or he didn't want anyone to know," Terrence said quietly. They heard the front door and both looked up.
Darius walked in, keys in hand, and saw the two of them at the counter and saw the message pad and something crossed his face, fast there and gone. But Avery caught it because she had been watching his face for 7 weeks, and she knew what his expressions did when he was managing information. He picked up the message. He read it. He set it down.
Thanks, he said to no one specifically and walked toward his office. Terrence looked at Avery. Avery looked at the office door. She had a choice. She could let it go.
She could do what she had done 6 weeks ago. Keep the professional line clean, stay in her lane, fix the cars, and leave the rest alone. She walked toward the office. She knocked on the open door. Darius looked up.
Can I come in? He hesitated just slightly, just long enough for her to see it. Then he said, "Yeah. " She stepped in. She left the door open because closed doors have meanings and she was being careful. "I took that call last night. " She said, "I didn't know who he was.
I looked up nothing. " Terrence told me a little of the history this morning. Darius's jaw was set. Not at her. She could feel the difference by now. At the situation.
What did Terrence tell you? Enough to understand why the name matters. She paused. I'm not asking you to explain yourself. That's not She stopped reorganized.
I want to ask you one question and you can tell me it's none of my business and I will absolutely accept that. He looked at her. Ask it, he said. Is the shop in trouble? The silence lasted 4 seconds.
She counted. No, he said, then quieter. Not yet. The words not yet landed in the room and stayed there. Hail's been making calls to my bank, Darius said.
He said it like he'd been holding it and had gotten tired of the wait. I don't know how he knew which bank, but he's been not threatening. Nothing I can point to, just making his presence felt, reminding people he's interested. He leaned back in the chair. We had a rough year last year before you came.
Lost two mechanics. Had two months of low volume in the winter. Had a major equipment repair I hadn't planned for. I caught up, but the margin was thin for a while. And Hail knows that.
Hail makes it his business to know everything. He paused. I didn't tell Terrence because Terrence has been here 20 years and he would he stopped. He would blame himself. Avery said.
Darius looked at her. He'd think he could have done something different, she said. Worked more, charged, more found the business somewhere. He'd carry it. She paused.
That's why you didn't tell him. Darius was very still. Yeah, he said. She looked at the filing cabinet, the photograph of Lily, the cold evidence of a man who ran a tight operation and protected the people in it and didn't ask for help. What can I do?
She said. He blinked. What? I'm asking what I can do, she said. Not out of pity.
Not because I feel sorry for the situation. Because this shop is worth protecting, and I'm in a position to help protect it, and I'd like to know how. Darius looked at her for a long time. He looked like a man who was trying to find the argument against something and kept arriving at no argument. The charger, he said finally.