Jane Summers exhaled, squeezed Gary’s hand firmly, a quick smile down at the seated man confirming her thankfulness.
She released Gary’s hand, walked from behind the desk to the seat where she had been standing. “I guess I should start at the beginning.” She reached down to the floor, retrieved her canvas backpack, placed it on her seat, opened a zipper. “And it started with this thing.” She retrieved the device that had played Eine Kleine Nachtmusik that morning, held it up for Gary and Scott to see.
“Ah, you found your phone!” Gary leaned forward over his desk, pleasure beaming from his face like a happy parent. “Was it in your car?”
The expression that Jane showed on her face as she turned to Gary was not one he had expected. She looked annoyed, concerned. She replied in tones of anger. “That was the second thing odd this morning, you talking about my car. I didn’t believe you at first, but then — ” she reached into the backpack again, pulled out a ring of keys — “this one, the one with the big rubber handle.” She held the key between her thumb and index finger, letting the other keys dangle on the chain beneath. “I recognize the logo, the V and the W — what did they call that company, Volt Wagon?”
Gary leaned back in his chair, the smile on his face evaporating like an ice cube on hot pavement. “Volkswagen.” Jane pointed the key at him. “Yeah, that’s it. They stopped making cars I don’t know, twenty years ago when the market collapsed, are you telling me I bought an antique?”
“Ah, Jane.” Scott was now standing, a condescending look on his face. “You bought that car new, last month. Remember, you and I went to the dealership?”