The Backup Nobody Knew About

The local recording for bay two didn't exist anymore. That was the first thing the camera company told me when I called about the day of Vic Delgado's job.

"System shows a gap," the technician said. "September second, twelve to two. Could be a glitch, could be somebody hit delete. The older units drop footage more often than folks realize."

Twelve to two covered the exact window on the invoice.

I sat with the phone still in my hand, bay two visible past the front counter. Ryan was out there now, leaning over an oil change, laughing at something the customer said. I thought about the sealed box, the forty minutes, the missed-payment text he'd turned face down, and none of it added up to proof. It only added up to a feeling, and feelings didn't clear anyone's name.

"Is there any other copy?" I asked. "Cloud, backup, anything?"

The technician paused long enough that I sat forward. "Depends on the plan. Basic units record local only. If your contract's got the extended tier, we mirror it to our servers for ninety days. Let me check what Voss Auto's signed up for."

I hadn't set up the shop's camera contract. Ryan had, back when Walt was still alive and insisted on the cheapest plan available.

"You're on the extended tier," the technician said. "Added last spring. Looks like nobody's ever pulled from it."

Last spring. Around the time Ryan had taken over the vendor contracts that used to be Walt's job, before Walt passed and left the two of them to split what he'd built.

"I need that footage," I said. "September second, bay two, twelve to two."

"I can have it to you by end of day tomorrow. Claim's got a deadline though, forty-eight hours from Priya Anand's office, or it goes to arbitration on the statements already on file."

Forty-eight hours. I hung up and looked out at bay two again, at Ryan still laughing with the customer, still certain nobody was watching him closely enough to see what I'd already started to see.