He hesitated. "The original cable could snag under load if the floor anchor was mounted a certain way."
"Is that a recall?"
"Not officially. It's an installation notice. Mina asked the supplier for clarification."
Tessa looked at the document. Its diagrams showed a passenger cabin with a lift, a folded wheelchair, and a bright orange handle near the rear pillar. At the bottom was a table of affected conversion kits. A particular batch number was circled in red ink.
"Who circled it?"
"Mina. We've got one of those kits in the workshop. It's for a county contract. The paperwork says it's been inspected, but she hasn't signed off."
The door to the office swung open. Grant stepped into the service corridor and saw the document. "Noah, what are you doing?"
"Showing Tessa the revised latch procedure."
Grant looked at her. "You have three appointments this morning."
"None until ten."
"Then call somebody. If I catch my salespeople hiding in service again, I'll assume they're looking for a different job."
He left before Tessa could respond. Noah closed the document, but not before she noticed the name printed under the revision: Lark Ridge Mobility Solutions. The name was familiar from a shipping crate she had seen near the loading doors. Grant had told her the company had a major order coming, one that would make the entire quarter look better.
She returned to the showroom and called her first prospect. During the conversation she found herself looking repeatedly at the corridor. Yesterday she had mistaken a useful question for an inconvenience. Today the question had become a warning nobody wanted to hear.
- • •
The telephone number on the Bell County Access website rang four times before a woman answered. Tessa had written a careful apology on the back of a purchase-order form, but the words abandoned her as soon as she heard the voice.
"Transport office, June Bell speaking."
"My name is Tessa Rowan. I work at Haven Motors. I was hoping to reach the gentleman who visited yesterday."
There was a pause long enough to hear keys clicking at the other end. "If you're calling about a sales appointment, we are collecting written bids."
"I'm calling about the way I treated him."
The keys stopped. "Oh."
"I was dismissive. I assumed he couldn't afford what he was asking about. I was wrong, and I wanted to apologize to him directly."
"He didn't tell me your name," June said. "But he told me enough."
"I don't expect a sale."
"That's good, because we're not offering one in exchange for an apology."
The words stung precisely because Tessa could not disagree. "Would you pass along my number?"
June sounded tired rather than angry. "I will pass it along. The other thing you can do is send us the technical specifications, including the lift conversion and emergency-release system. My grandfather asked for them. Your dealership sent us a brochure about leather seats."
"I can get you the service bulletin."
"Then please do. It might help our drivers."
Tessa ended the call with the unfamiliar feeling that something had been offered to her, although nothing resembling forgiveness had been promised. She wrote down June's request. In the sales database, the community transport office existed as a lead assigned to Grant. Its projected revenue was listed as zero. The customer notes contained a single sentence: SMALL RURAL CHARITY, UNLIKELY TO CLOSE.
Tessa stared at it. Somebody had made the same judgment she had, but converted it into a line of company data. It looked official there. It also looked like a reason nobody would bother to call.
She clicked the record and added the request for specifications. The system refused to save. A message appeared: MANAGER APPROVAL REQUIRED TO ALTER PRIORITY LEADS.
She printed the screen. Then she went to Mina's workshop.
Mina was lying on a wheeled board beneath a converted van, tracing a cable with a flashlight. She did not look up when Tessa arrived. "If Grant sent you to ask whether it's ready, tell him the answer is still no."
"I'm here because Bell County Access asked for the revised service bulletin."
The flashlight went out. Mina slid into view, a smudge of black on her cheek. "Who did?"
"June Bell. They want to evaluate emergency exits before buying."
"Good for them."
Tessa handed her the printed customer record. Mina read it once, then again. "They were marked as charity?"
"Yes."
"The county mobility consortium is paying for part of the project. Ada Bell's foundation provides matching funds. They're not begging for a donation. They are a legitimate purchaser."
"I know that now."