“News about the apprenticeship program spread.”
Thomas looked surprised.
“How?”
“Social media.”
Ryan entered the room.
“It's everywhere.”
He showed Thomas his phone.
A video of the Jaguar had gone viral.
Thousands of people had watched apprentices working on it.
The comments were overwhelmingly positive.
But one comment caught Thomas's attention.
“That car belonged to my father.”
Thomas stared at the screen.
“Who wrote that?”
Ryan pointed.
“We don't know.”
Thomas looked at the username.
Then at the Jaguar.
Something about the message bothered him.
“Find them.”
Ryan nodded.
Within forty-eight hours, they had an answer.
The account belonged to a woman named Sarah Whitmore.
Thomas stared at the name.
“Whitmore?”
David nodded.
“She may be related to Richard.”
Thomas immediately called Richard.
“Do you know a Sarah Whitmore?”
There was a long silence.
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
“My daughter.”
Thomas frowned.
“Why would she say the Jaguar belonged to her father?”
Richard sighed.
“Because it did.”
Thomas froze.
“What?”
“Her father owned the car after Daniel.”
Thomas looked toward the Jaguar.
“But you said it was sold to a collector.”
“It was.”
“Who?”
Richard didn't answer.
Thomas's voice became sharper.
“Richard.”
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“The person who sold that Jaguar to Sterling wasn't the collector.”
Thomas's heart began pounding.
“Then who?”
Richard hesitated.
“Sarah.”
Thomas stared at David.
“Why?”
Richard's voice became quieter.
“Because she found it.”
“Where?”
“After her father died.”
Thomas looked at the Jaguar.
“What did she find?”
“Daniel's records.”
Thomas's face changed.
“What records?”
“The ones he kept before he died.”
Richard paused.
“And Sarah believes those records prove the Jaguar was never supposed to be sold.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
The secret surrounding the car was getting larger.
Every answer seemed to create another question.
Then Richard said something that made Thomas's blood run cold.
“Sarah also believes Daniel didn't sell the Jaguar voluntarily.”
Thomas opened his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
Richard whispered:
“She thinks someone forced him to sell it.”
The call ended.
Thomas stood motionless.
Ryan looked at him.
“What happened?”
Thomas looked at the Jaguar.
“I don't know.”
He paused.
“But I think my brother's story isn't finished.”
That evening, Thomas returned to the workshop.
The apprentices were gone.
Only Caleb remained.
He was sitting beside the Jaguar with a notebook.
Thomas approached.
“What are you doing?”
Caleb looked up.
“I found something.”
Thomas's heart skipped.
“What?”
Caleb pointed beneath the dashboard.
“There.”
Thomas crouched.
Caleb had discovered another hidden compartment.
Thomas opened it.
Inside was a small metal key.
No label.
No explanation.
Just a number engraved on it.
17.
Thomas stared at it.
Caleb looked confused.
“What does it open?”
Thomas slowly stood.
“I don't know.”
He closed his hand around the key.
But somewhere in the back of his mind, he already knew.
Daniel had never hidden anything without a reason.
And whatever lock belonged to that key was probably holding the final piece of the story.
The next morning, Thomas would begin looking for it.
He had spent twenty-three years trying to understand his brother's past.
Now, for the first time, he was beginning to suspect that the truth might be much darker than he had imagined.
The key sat on Thomas Reed's bedside table all night.
He barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same things.
Daniel laughing beside the Jaguar.
Daniel writing in his notebook.
Daniel sitting in a hospital bed, telling him not to worry.
And now the small metal key.
17.
What had it opened?
Why had Daniel hidden it inside the Jaguar?
And why had he never told Thomas about it?
At six in the morning, Thomas gave up on sleep.
He dressed, put on his brown jacket, and drove straight to Sterling's workshop.
The lights were still off when he arrived.
He unlocked the front door.
The workshop smelled of oil, metal, and cold concrete.
For some reason, the familiar smell reminded him of his father's garage.
He walked toward the Jaguar.
It was covered with a protective sheet.
Thomas removed it carefully.
The green paint appeared beneath the fluorescent lights.
He rested one hand on the roof.
“Where did you take me this time, Daniel?”
A voice came from behind him.
“Looking for something?”
Thomas turned.
It was Ryan.
He was carrying two cups of coffee.
Thomas smiled.
“You're early.”
“So are you.”
Ryan handed him a cup.
“Black.”
Thomas accepted it.
“Thank you.”
Ryan looked at the key in Thomas's hand.
“Did you find out what it opens?”
“Not yet.”
“Any ideas?”
Thomas shook his head.
“Daniel used numbers for everything.”
“Maybe it's a locker.”
Thomas stopped.
Ryan continued.
“Old workshops had lockers.”
Thomas looked around.
There were several metal cabinets along the back wall.
Ryan walked over.
“Seventeen?”
He counted.
“One. Two. Three…”
Thomas followed.
At the far end was an old gray locker.
Number 17.
Thomas stared at it.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Thomas inserted the key.
It fit.
He turned it.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside was almost nothing.
A cardboard box.
An old pair of mechanic's gloves.
A faded photograph.
And a small cassette tape.
Thomas picked up the photograph first.
It showed Daniel standing beside five young mechanics.
Thomas recognized the workshop.
It was the same building they were now using for the apprenticeship program.
The photograph had been taken in 1998.
The year Daniel started his first workshop.
Thomas turned it over.
On the back was a handwritten message.
“Five students. Five chances. Don't let the number stop there.”
Thomas smiled.
“He really believed in this.”
Ryan nodded.
“What else?”
Thomas picked up the cassette.
There was a handwritten label.
For Tom.
His hands began to shake.
“Do you have anything that can play this?”
Ryan thought for a moment.
“Maybe.”
An hour later, they were sitting in a small office at the workshop.
David had found an old cassette player in storage.
The machine looked ancient.
Ryan placed the tape inside.
Thomas sat directly in front of it.
The tape began with static.
Then a voice.
Daniel's voice.
Young.
Clear.
Alive.
“Tom, if you're listening to this, then I suppose things didn't go exactly as planned.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
Ryan looked away.
Daniel continued.
“I don't know how long this tape will survive. I don't know if you'll ever hear it. But I needed to say some things without you interrupting me.”
Thomas laughed softly.
“That sounds like you.”
Daniel's recorded voice continued.
“I know you think I'm wasting my life.”
Thomas opened his eyes.
“I know you think the cars are foolish. The workshop is foolish. The kids are foolish.”
There was a pause.
“But they're not.”
Thomas looked down.
“They remind me of us.”
The tape crackled.
“When we were young, Dad didn't ask whether we could afford to make mistakes. He let us make them.”
Thomas smiled.
“Remember the engine we destroyed?”
Ryan glanced at him.
Thomas nodded.
“That's what made us mechanics.”
Daniel continued.
“That's what these kids need. Someone who will let them make mistakes without deciding they're failures.”
The tape went quiet for several seconds.
Then Daniel's voice changed.
More serious.
“There is something else.”
Thomas leaned closer.
“I sold the Jaguar.”
Thomas knew that.
“But not for the reason I told you.”
Thomas froze.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“I told everyone I sold it because Martha needed surgery.”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“That was true.”
“But it wasn't the whole truth.”
The tape crackled.
“I was being threatened.”
Thomas's face went pale.
Ryan leaned forward.
“By whom?”
Daniel's recorded voice continued.
“There was a man named Victor Hale.”
Thomas frowned.
He knew the name.
Everyone in the classic-car industry knew it.
Victor Hale had once been one of the country's largest collectors.
He had owned dozens of rare vehicles.
But his reputation was controversial.
He had been accused of buying cars through questionable deals.
Daniel continued.
“Victor wanted the Jaguar.”
Thomas's jaw tightened.
“He offered me money.”
The tape crackled.
“I refused.”
Thomas whispered:
“Why?”
Daniel answered as though he could hear him.
“Because I knew what he intended to do with it.”
Ryan looked confused.
“What?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I don't know.”
The tape continued.
“He wanted to use the car to establish ownership of several parts that weren't legally his.”
Thomas stared.
“What?”
Daniel explained.
“The Jaguar contains original components from another vehicle. Components Victor claimed belonged to him.”
Thomas's mind raced.
“So the car wasn't just a car.”
“No.”
Daniel's voice became quieter.
“It was evidence.”
Thomas froze.
Ryan stared at him.
Daniel continued.
“I refused to sell it to Victor.”
A pause.
“Then the threats started.”
Thomas felt cold.
“They threatened Martha.”
Ryan whispered:
“Jesus.”
Daniel continued.
“I had no choice.”
The tape crackled again.
“I sold the Jaguar through a third party.”
Thomas leaned forward.
“To whom?”
Daniel's voice became barely audible.
“I made sure Victor didn't get it.”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“Who?”
The tape stopped.
Silence.
Ryan checked the player.
“That's it?”
“No.”
Thomas pointed.
“Turn it over.”
Ryan turned the cassette.
There was another side.
He pressed play.
Static.
Then Daniel's voice returned.
“If you found this, then you probably already know about the hidden compartment.”
Thomas looked toward the Jaguar.
“The car has something inside it that Victor never found.”
Thomas's heart began pounding.
“What?”
Daniel continued.
“Proof.”
Thomas stood.
Ryan looked at him.
“Proof of what?”
Daniel's voice answered.
“Proof that Victor Hale illegally acquired several vehicles and parts through fraudulent ownership transfers.”
Thomas stared at the tape player.
His brother had known.
He had known that the Jaguar contained evidence.
And he had hidden it.