Chapter 4 - The Garage in Valencia
Christian wanted to fly to Spain.
Clarina told him that was exactly why rich men needed adult supervision.
“You think Hutton is retrieving evidence,” she said. “So your plan is to race him to it?”
“Yes.”
“That is not a plan. That is a trailer.”
He glared across the diner booth.
She had chosen the Starlight for the meeting because Christian disliked the coffee.
It made negotiations shorter.
Naomi Price sat beside him.
Helen Marr joined by video.
Luis Mendoza joined by phone from Arizona.
The actual plan came from Naomi.
Preserve evidence through counsel.
Hire Spanish investigators.
Contact local legal representatives.
No vigilante race through Valencia.
Christian looked bored.
“Law is slow.”
Naomi smiled sweetly.
“Prison is slower.”
He stopped arguing.
Two days later, investigators located the private garage where the burned prototype had been stored after the incident.
Not company property.
A subcontract warehouse outside Valencia.
Ownership had changed twice.
The car itself was gone.
But old inventory logs survived.
One entry:
TELEMETRY MODULE — REMOVED BY R. TEMPLETON — RELEASE AUTHORIZED G. HUTTON.
Clarina read the scan.
Her hands went cold.
There it was.
Paper.
Boring.
Devastating.
Luis provided a sworn statement that he had seen both men in the garage before the fire.
Then another former engineer came forward.
Mei Chen.
She had saved a backup of Clarina’s original warning email because she used it in a thermal-model discussion.
The timestamp predated the fire by nine days.
Templeton’s internal investigation had claimed Clarina created the warning afterward to protect herself.
That lie began to collapse.
The video of Clarina fixing the Valkyrie had reached forty million views.
Her face was everywhere.
Half the internet called her brilliant.
The other half called her a fraud.
A podcast host found her old lawsuit and announced she had “conveniently reinvented herself as a diner Cinderella.”
Clarina refused interviews.
Christian offered a communications team.
She refused that too.
Toby read comments until she took his phone away.
“That is censorship.”
“That is oncology.”
“Not the same thing.”
“You need sleep.”
“So do you.”
He was right.
She hated the household rebellion.
Johns Hopkins called with treatment dates.
The direct transfer had cleared.
Toby could begin the experimental marrow protocol in three weeks.
Clarina sat on the bathroom floor after the call and cried into a towel so he would not hear.
He heard.
He sat outside the door.
“You know I’m seventeen, right?”
“Go away.”
“No.”
“Privacy.”
“You cry like a lawn mower.”
She laughed.
The door opened.
He sat beside her.
“We’re doing it?”
“Yes.”
He leaned his head on her shoulder.
“Okay.”
Fear did not disappear because money arrived.
It simply changed shape.
The next problem arrived at work.
Albert fired her.
Official reason: media disruption.
Unofficial reason: Riker Templeton’s lawyers had contacted him and warned that the diner could be dragged into litigation.
Clarina took off her apron.
Albert would not meet her eyes.
“I have employees.”
“So do I.”
“What?”
“Toby counts.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.”
He sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re scared.”
“That too.”
She walked out without begging.
Christian was waiting outside.
Of course he was.
She stopped.
“Why are you here?”
“Coffee.”
“You hate the coffee.”
“Greg likes suffering.”
Greg lifted a hand from the SUV.
Clarina looked at Christian.
“I got fired.”
“I know.”
“You had someone watching?”
“No. Albert called my office because Templeton’s attorney threatened him and he panicked.”
“Still hate that you know before I tell you.”
“Working on it.”
She folded her arms.
“If you offer me a job, I will throw something.”
He considered.
“Even if it pays well?”
“Especially.”
“Fine.”
He opened the car door.
“Ride?”
“No.”
“Expected.”
Then another vehicle rolled into the lot.
Black pickup.
No plates.
Christian’s expression changed immediately.
His bodyguard stepped from the SUV.
The pickup stopped.
A man got out.
Large.
Shaved head.
He walked directly toward Clarina.
“Ms. Wells?”
She stepped back.
Christian moved between them.
The man smiled.
“I only need a minute.”
Christian said, “You have zero.”
The man reached inside his jacket.
The bodyguard moved.
So did Christian.
The object that came out was not a gun.
A metal tire tool.
The man swung.
Christian caught his forearm.
The impact glanced off his shoulder.
Christian drove one short punch into the man’s jaw.
The man stumbled.
The bodyguard pinned him against the truck.
No second strike.
No spectacle.
Christian turned immediately.
“Clarina.”
She stared at him.
“I’m fine.”
His shoulder was not.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Not important.”
“Sit down.”
He actually did.
That surprised both of them.
Police came.
Then paramedics.
Clarina gave her own statement.
Christian gave his.
The attacker carried no ID.
His phone had one recent message.
SCARE HER. NO HOSPITAL.
The sender number was disposable.
But the payment app tied to the phone had received money from a Nevada consulting company.
The company belonged to a former security contractor.
That contractor had worked for Templeton.
Christian’s lawyer documented everything.
Clarina did not tell the press.
Templeton denied involvement before anyone accused him publicly.
That was the mistake.
His statement appeared at 6:12 p.m.
I categorically deny sending anyone to threaten Ms. Wells.
Clarina read it.
Christian stood beside her with an ice pack on his shoulder.
She looked up.
“Nobody said he sent anyone.”
Christian’s eyes narrowed.
“Not publicly.”
The room went quiet.
Clarina remembered the titles of scandals she used to read.
People did not always confess.
Sometimes they answered questions nobody had asked.
Naomi smiled without humor.
“Well.”
Christian looked at Clarina.
“What?”
She folded her arms.
“For once, your communications team can make itself useful.”
They released only one sentence:
Ms. Wells has made no public allegation concerning who arranged the parking-lot assault.
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Within an hour, every reporter in the country asked the same question.
Why had Riker Templeton denied something no one had accused him of?
