Chapter 1 - The Brake LineLogan kicked Frank’s toolbox across the race-car garage.
Sockets scattered across the concrete.
“Go home, old man. You don’t belong in my garage.”
Frank ignored him.
His daughter Rachel’s wrecked race car had just been hauled back from the track after a violent crash. She was already at the medical center, and Frank cared far more about the machine in front of him than Logan’s insults.
He knelt beside the car.
Frank had spent more than forty years repairing engines, trucks, and race cars.
He knew what a brake line looked like when it ruptured under pressure.
This one was different.
The cut was clean.
Frank slowly stood.
“That brake line didn’t fail.”
The crew stopped working.
Frank looked directly at Logan.
“Somebody cut it.”
Logan’s smile tightened.
“Then prove it.”
Crew chief Mason walked to the garage access tablet and checked the overnight entry history.
His expression changed.
He looked at Logan.
Then at the screen again.
“Logan…”
Nobody moved.
Mason swallowed.
“Why did your badge open this garage at 2:13 this morning?”
Logan’s smile disappeared.
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Frank turned slowly toward his son-in-law.
For the first time, Rachel’s crash no longer looked accidental.
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