Troubleshooter

430."

A youthful agent said, "No shit? That ride cost seventy-nine grand?"

"Oh, yeah," Smiles said. "Our boy needed chrome wheels, air purifier, headlamp washers, voice-command nav system, headrest massager-"

Tim bolted forward, snatching the document from Smiles.

Smiles held up his hands, feigning offense. "Is that any way to-"

Tim slapped the piece of paper with the back of his hand and looked up at the staring faces around the central table. Bear lowered the phone to his broad chest, his head cocked like a dog deciphering a bird call.

Tim said, "We need Pete Krindon."