Her hands smooth over the steering wheel as she starts to understand that submitting to me comes with rewards. I watch as emotions chase over her face. She wishes she could contact me now, thank me for this generous gift. But she doesn’t even know who I am. Her curiosity is growing.
She will find out soon enough, but not yet.
I watch as she goes inside, then comes out again about fifteen minutes later. She’s dressed in sweatpants now, and a zip-up hoodie. She looks casual and relaxed. I wonder where she’s going to take her new car.
She starts the car and heads out. I tail her, staying a couple of cars back so she doesn’t notice. We head into a part of the city not known for a lot of recreational activities. A little strange, but I’m eager to learn what her plan is.
Laura drives that car right into a car yard.
“Oh, no,” I murmur to myself. “Tell me she is not going to…”
She gets out of the car with her papers in hand and walks into the dealership office.
Thirty minutes later…
She sold the car.
Naughty girl.
I can hardly believe it. I watched as she got in it, her hand covering her mouth as she realized that the car was really hers. I thought she’d be grateful, thrilled. And she was, for about five minutes. Then she sold the car.
I have a directional listening device that allows me to hear conversations taking place inside walls.
“As you understand, vehicles lose a great deal of their value the moment they are driven off the lot.”
“I know, but I really don’t like it,” Laura says. “It’s just the wrong color.”
The little brat. She’s sounding like a spoiled little girl whose daddy bought her the wrong color of car.
“You could have it wrapped…”
“I don’t like the vibe,” she says. “How much will you give me for it?”
There’s a pause. I don’t think she understands what she just did, entirely, but she’s making the guy give her a number first.
“What would you take for it?”
“What will you give me for it?”
Oh, smart girl. Not letting the salesman gain the upper hand.
“Twenty-five thousand,” he says, naming a value half that of the car.
I hear a jingling as she stands up. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought you’d take me seriously.”
“Twenty-eight,” he says.
“Thirty,” she replies.
“Done,” he says.
She was doing well right up until that point. Thirty grand is a lot for Laura, but it’s not nearly as much as the car was actually worth. She just traded a fifty-thousand-dollar car for thirty thousand dollars.
“Cash,” she says.
“That can be arranged.”
I watch as she walks out of the dealership with a thick wad of cash tucked into her bag. Interesting that they had so much paper on hand. Interesting, and obviously shady. Whatever that place is a front for, they just laundered a whole lot of money through her.
