“I’m not returning that car,” he said. “We knew it had electrical issues when we sold it to her. We’ll get that fixed by corporate. But she’s over the deadline.”
There was a long pause, and then, “She’ll never figure out that we switched the cars. How would she know?”
More talking.
I narrowed my eyes and pulled out my phone to text Apollo.
Odin:
Pull the Ford dealership’s cameras. Who I think is the owner just admitted to switching out Constance’s car for his own lemon car. Knowingly making her buy a fucked up one with electrical issues.
Apollo answered with an immediate text back.
Apollo:
Pulling them now. Just remember that if you punch this guy, there are a lot of witnesses.
I ignored him and shoved my phone back into my pocket, walking up to the man with his slicked back hair and his cowboy boots that probably had never seen dirt before.
The man looked up and froze.
“Uhh, gotta go, Walt.”
The man in front of me plastered on his fake smile and said, “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m the owner, Dale Williams. Are you here to purchase a truck? Maybe a new car for your wife?”
“Well, Dale,” I said with my arms across my chest and my feet planted hip-width apart. “How about we talk about this fraud business you just admitted to in front of me, and you tell me how you’re going to fix it?”
The door behind me opened, and I heard Walt hesitantly say, “Uh, this is the guy I was just talking to you about, Dale.”
Dale looked from Walt to me before saying, “Is that right?”
“You have tonight to fix this,” I said. “You get her a brand-new car. Not one that you’ve driven. It needs to be as brand new as it can be. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to make sure you have this fixed.”
Dale swallowed. “I’m not sure…”
“Or the world’s going to see that bullshit you just spewed about selling a customer a used, fucked up car that you drove and found out was a lemon. What do you think Ford will think when you get plastered all over the internet?”
Dale cleared his throat. “I can get her fixed up in something new.”
“Something brand new,” I corrected. “And in the same color and trim style as the one she ordered.”
Dale nodded.
“By tomorrow.”
“That might not be possible,” he admitted. “I’ll have to probably do a dealer trade for it. It might take some time. Maybe a day or two.”
I scoffed. “I think if you put your mind to it, Dale, you can make anything happen.” I eyed Walt, then Dale again. “I’m not joking. Get this fixed.”
He nodded, his face paling at the tone of my voice.
“We’ll figure it out. Right now, sir.”
“You do that.” I walked to my bike and started it up.
As I drove home, I thought about how Constance had been fucked over, and it only made my blood boil hotter.
Which was why, instead of going inside when I got home, I went to the chainsaw in the back and got to work doing something I loved.
