Chapter 6 - The Black SUV

The truck-yard footage was grainy but useful.

At 2:13 a.m., a black SUV entered behind a delivery van before the gate closed. Two people wearing hooded sweatshirts walked toward my trailer. One carried bolt cutters.

They never reached the seal.

A security guard turned the corner in a golf cart, and both ran.

The SUV backed out fast enough to clip a concrete post.

Jonah froze the video.

“Passenger-side rear panel.”

A white scrape showed under the taillight.

I pulled up my dash-camera footage from the Riverside roadblock.

Beckett’s black SUV had a white scrape in exactly the same place.

Mara stared at the two images side by side.

“That is not proof the same vehicle was here.”

“No,” Cho said. “But it is a reason to get better records.”

“License plate?”

“Obscured at the yard. Clear during the road incident.”

Jonah said, “Registered to Beckett’s company?”

Cho did not answer.

“That’s investigative information.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You brought us the footage.”

“And now I’m taking it back into the case.”

She was drawing a line. I understood why.

The more this looked criminal, the less room there was for me to act like my own detective.

Mara pointed at me.

“You hear that?”

“I hear everything when people point.”

“You are done chasing people.”

“I found Luis.”

“Jonah found Luis.”

“I stood there impressively.”

“No more impressive standing.”

Cho almost smiled.

Then her phone rang.

She listened for a minute and asked, “How certain?”

She stepped away.

When she returned, she looked at Elise.

“Your lab contact expedited the sample.”

Elise straightened.

“And?”

“Preliminary microscopy says the wood is not oak.”

“That we knew.”

“They believe it is Dalbergia.”

Elise exhaled.

“Rosewood.”

Cho nodded.

“Species-level confirmation is pending. Federal wildlife and customs investigators have been notified because the import documentation may be false.”

I looked toward my trailer.

“So the extra freight could be illegal.”

“Could be,” Cho said. “Do not turn ‘preliminary’ into ‘proven.’”

Mara nodded approvingly.

“I like her.”

“So do I,” I said. “She keeps ruining my dramatic sentences.”

My phone buzzed.

The freight platform had sent another notice.

FINAL DEMAND: RETURN DISPUTED CARGO WITHIN 12 HOURS OR CARRIER ACCOUNT MAY BE PERMANENTLY TERMINATED.

Mara read it.

“They know law enforcement has custody concerns.”

“I sent them the incident report.”

“Forward this to me.”

Jonah asked, “Can they terminate her while the cargo is under investigation?”

“They can try,” Mara said. “Whether they should is another question.”

I opened the platform app.

My reserve still showed $18,247.63.

Frozen.

Three years of emergency cushion, maintenance buffer, and settlement holdbacks reduced to a gray number I could not touch.

“I have a truck payment in five days.”

Mara looked at me.

“How much liquidity do you have?”

“Enough for fuel and maybe ten days if nothing else breaks.”

Jonah said, “Your truck always hears statements like that.”

“Don’t say it near the transmission.”

Cho returned to the trailer.

“We’re moving the remaining cargo to a controlled evidence facility this afternoon.”

I stared at her.

“Then it’s off my trailer?”

“Yes.”

“Documented weight?”

“Yes.”

“Condition report?”

“Yes.”

“Signed transfer?”

“Yes.”

“Every seal?”

“Yes, Rhea.”

I felt my shoulders drop for the first time in two days.

“What happens to the crate?”

“Not your problem anymore.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has said to me.”

The transfer took three hours. Every bundle was weighed, photographed, tagged, and removed.

Remaining cargo weight: 2,087 pounds.

Almost exactly the discrepancy from the state scale.

Elise signed the survey.

Cho signed the evidence transfer.

I signed the carrier release.

My trailer was empty.

I stood inside it after everyone left, looking at the scuffed aluminum floor where the green bundles had rested.

Jonah stepped up behind me.

“Feels different?”

“Lighter.”

“Literally.”

“And legally.”

He nodded.

My phone rang.

Beckett.

Mara had told me not to answer him without counsel, but she was standing ten feet away. I held up the screen.

She walked over.

“Speaker. Say as little as possible.”

I answered.

Beckett did not greet me.

“You opened it.”

“No.”

“You gave my property to police.”

“I transferred disputed cargo to investigators under documented custody.”

His breathing sharpened.

“You have no idea what you just did.”

“Then explain it.”

Mara shook her head. Too much.

Beckett ignored the invitation.

“You think this makes you safe?”

Cho, still nearby, turned toward us.

I said, “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m telling you consequences exist.”

“For falsifying cargo weight?”

“You arrogant—”

He stopped himself.

Then his voice changed.

Calm again.

“You’re broke, Rhea. I know what your reserve is. I know your truck note. I know what three cancelled loads cost you.”

My eyes went to Mara.

That information was not public.

“How do you know my reserve balance?”

Silence.

Then Beckett laughed.

“Everyone knows everything eventually.”

He hung up.

Mara’s face had gone still.

Jonah said, “The shipper should not know her exact reserve.”

Cho asked, “Who can see it?”

“Rhea,” Mara said. “The platform. Maybe her factoring provider depending on integrations.”

I opened the account notice.

Nolan Price’s name sat at the bottom.

Platform Risk Operations.

I remembered his words.

Automated systems prioritize premium accounts.

I looked at Cho.

“Beckett doesn’t just have influence with the platform.”

“No,” she said.

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For the first time, she sounded certain.

“He has information from inside it.”