The Claims Meeting Put Her Empty Floor Beside His Photographs

By Thursday, the snow had gone from everything except the videos.

People kept sending me the same white parking lot, the same red coat, the same raised phones. My phone screen made that morning last much longer than the weather had.

I turned it face down before the claims meeting.

The day before, an inspector working for Pike had visited my workshop. He had measured each tank and matched all three numbers to the intake page. We lifted the blankets together. I used my brush to clear dust from the lower corners, then stepped aside so he could take his own pictures.

"Who has access here?" he asked.

"Me. Mateo came Friday, while I was here."

He checked the gate and noted where the truck stood. I signed his visit sheet after reading it. It described the tanks as present, dry, and undamaged. I asked for a copy, and he emailed one before leaving. Having another person record what was in front of him felt like getting a solid floor back under my feet.

We sat around a table at Lila's other shop. Celia sat beside me. Mateo kept his phone plugged into a charger. Odette arrived with an attorney who carried a thin folder.

Pike joined by video. With everyone's consent, he recorded the meeting.

He began with the easy questions.

"These are the three items in your loss statement?"

He shared the list.

AB-141. AB-142. AB-143.

"Yes," Odette said.

"You described them as purchased store stock."

"They'd been in our store for months."

"That's where they were. I'm asking who owned them."

Her attorney leaned toward her. She brushed his hand away.

"The invoice explains it."

Pike put the $18,600 bill beside my $360 repair receipt. Then he showed the stock change made under Odette's login.

"The store has found no payment supporting this purchase," he said.

"Cash is hard to trace."

"So we checked the other records."

He asked me about the intake book. I explained the July purchase, the rebuild, the serial numbers, and the three consignment pages.

"Why keep those at your workshop?" Odette's attorney asked.

"That's where I keep records for property I own."

I opened the book toward the camera.

I had carried tanks into her shop. I had carried pumps out to customers. She had decided that carrying things was all I did.

But I held the title to those three tanks, and the proof had been sitting above my repair sink the whole time.

Pike asked Mateo to explain his pictures.

"This was Thursday before closing," Mateo said. "All three on the floor. Friday, I moved them into the rear bay under Ms. Landry's order."

The dispatch message appeared next.

"And this?" Pike asked.

"Friday at eight twenty-six. Adrian's truck. She held the door."

Odette leaned back.

"I couldn't fight two grown men over glass."

Mateo looked at her for a long moment.

"You asked me if I wanted coffee while we loaded."

Nobody spoke. The heater clicked under the window.

Pike brought up the empty sales floor picture.

"This was submitted as proof of the reported theft. The tanks were in the rear bay when you took it. Correct?"

"I took a picture of an empty space."

"Your statement said someone had stolen store property the night before."

Her attorney asked for a short break. When they returned, Odette kept both hands under the table.

The storage reservation came from a dispatch attachment Lila had supplied. A private unit had been reserved in Odette's name for Monday. The attached transfer sheet listed my serial numbers as resale stock.

The $175 deposit had gone on the shop card.

"Why reserve private space for stolen glass?" Lila asked.

"In case it came back."

"Before you reported it missing?"

Odette looked at me.

"They weren't supposed to leave with him. The police were supposed to bring them back."

Her attorney said her name, sharply.

Pike stayed with the records.

"Were you planning to notify us if you recovered the tanks?"

"There hadn't been a payment yet."

"That wasn't my question."

"The store needed cash. I could have settled things when the set sold."

Lila pushed her chair back.

There it was. She wanted the tanks held as hers, stored away, and the claim paid for their supposed loss. My arrest was meant to start that chain.

Her attorney ended her answers. Pike said the claim would remain unpaid while the insurer completed its review. He would preserve the recording and refer the conflicting records to its investigators.

Lila told Odette her employment was over. A written notice followed before we left.

Outside, Mateo held the door for me.

"Coffee?" he asked.

I nodded. This time, I laughed.

We had barely reached my workshop when a man in a tan jacket stepped out of a small car.

"Adrian Baptiste?"

He handed me a court petition filed two days before the meeting.

Odette was suing me for the tanks.