Chapter 3 — The Fired Salesman
Chapter 3 — The Fired Salesman
Ethan Miller had never expected to become important.
At twenty-four, his ambitions were modest.
He wanted a stable job.
A decent apartment.
Enough money to stop checking his bank account before buying groceries.
And, if life was kind, one day he wanted to own a car he could be proud of.
He had never imagined that one morning, he would be fired from the most prestigious dealership in the city...
and by midnight, the founder of a multimillion-dollar automotive empire would hand him the keys to a $312,000 car.
But the strangest part wasn't the car.
It was the reason Edward Whitmore had chosen him.
Because Edward hadn't been watching Ethan for ten minutes.
He had been watching him for six months.
And Ethan was about to discover why.
At 8:05 the next morning, Ethan sat in his tiny apartment staring at the keys on his kitchen table.
The keys belonged to the blue grand touring coupe.
He had barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Samuel Grant's face.
Then Edward Whitmore's.
Then Richard Hale's.
Then he heard the words he'd overheard outside the office.
The accident wasn't an accident.
Your grandson didn't die.
Ethan had no idea what those words meant.
But he knew one thing.
He was standing in the middle of something much bigger than a dealership.
His phone rang.
It was his mother.
"Hi, Mom."
"How did it go?"
Ethan sighed.
"Badly."
"Did you get fired?"
He smiled despite himself.
"How did you know?"
"Because you called me at midnight."
"Fair."
His mother was silent for a moment.
"What happened?"
Ethan looked at the keys.
"I got fired for helping an old man."
"What old man?"
"His name is Edward Whitmore."
Silence.
Then his mother said:
"Wait."
Ethan frowned.
"What?"
"Say that again."
"Edward Whitmore."
His mother's voice changed.
"Ethan, where did you hear that name?"
"He's the founder of Grant Automotive Holdings."
"I know who he is."
"You do?"
"Your grandfather used to work for him."
Ethan sat up.
"What?"
His mother stopped.
"I shouldn't have said that."
"Mom."
"I have to go."
"Wait."
The call ended.
Ethan stared at his phone.
His grandfather had died when Ethan was eight.
He had been told the man was a mechanic.
Nothing more.
Ethan had never heard the name Whitmore connected to him.
He immediately called back.
No answer.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Then a message appeared.
We need to talk tonight. Not on the phone.
Ethan stared at it.
His mother had never spoken like that before.
At 9:30, Ethan returned to Grant Premier Motors.
The security guard opened the door.
"Mr. Whitmore is expecting you."
Ethan nodded.
Inside, the dealership looked completely different.
The usual sales music was gone.
Several employees stood in small groups whispering.
Corporate investigators were examining computers.
Two unfamiliar men in suits were speaking to the finance department.
And Samuel Grant's office was sealed.
Ethan looked toward it.
"What happened?"
The guard shrugged.
"Nobody knows."
A voice came from behind him.
"Ethan."
He turned.
Edward stood there.
The old man looked exactly as he had the previous day.
Worn coat.
Gray beard.
Calm eyes.
But there was something different about him now.
He looked tired.
"Good morning."
"Good morning, sir."
Edward smiled.
"Don't call me sir."
Ethan hesitated.
"Mr. Whitmore?"
"Edward."
"Okay."
Edward nodded.
"Come with me."
They walked through the showroom.
Ethan noticed several employees watching him.
Yesterday he had been the young salesman nobody cared about.
Today he was walking beside the owner.
That changed everything.
They entered a private office.
Edward closed the door.
"Sit."
Ethan sat.
Edward remained standing.
"I owe you an apology."
"For what?"
"For putting you in danger."
Ethan frowned.
"I don't understand."
"You heard something last night."
Ethan went still.
Edward's eyes narrowed.
"Didn't you?"
Ethan considered lying.
Then he remembered the keys.
The old man's kindness.
And the fear in Richard's face.
"Yes."
Edward sat.
"What did you hear?"
Ethan repeated the conversation.
Edward listened without interrupting.
When Ethan finished, Edward looked toward the window.
"My son was named Daniel."
"I know."
"He died twenty years ago."
"Richard said he didn't."
Edward nodded.
"Yes."
"Do you believe him?"
Edward's voice was quiet.
"I don't know what I believe."
"Then why did you bring me here?"
Edward looked at him.
"Because you were the only person in that dealership who treated me like a human being."
Ethan smiled awkwardly.
"I was just doing my job."
"No."
Edward shook his head.
"Everyone else was doing their job."
He leaned forward.
"You did something different."
"What?"
"You saw someone being judged unfairly, and you spoke."
Ethan looked down.
"That's not special."
"It is."
Edward's expression softened.
"My son used to do the same thing."
Ethan looked up.
"Daniel?"
"Yes."
Edward opened a drawer.
He removed an old photograph.
A young man stood beside a luxury car.
He had dark hair.
A broad smile.
And a small scar above his left eyebrow.
Ethan stared.
"He looks..."
"Like you?"
Ethan's eyes widened.
Edward nodded.
"I noticed."
Ethan looked at the photograph again.
"How?"
"The first time I saw you."
"When?"
"Six months ago."
Ethan's stomach tightened.
"You've seen me before?"
Edward smiled faintly.
"Many times."
Six months earlier.
Ethan had been working the evening shift.
It was a slow Tuesday.
Rain covered the showroom windows.
Most employees had gone home.
Ethan stayed because a customer was late.
At 10:43 p.m., a black sedan pulled into the service entrance.
Ethan noticed it because the driver didn't turn off the headlights.
A man stepped out.
Dark coat.
Black gloves.
Carrying a hard-shell case.
He entered through the employee door.
Ethan recognized him.
Samuel Grant.
But Samuel wasn't alone.
A second man followed.
Older.
Gray-haired.
Ethan couldn't see his face.
The two men walked toward the back office.
Ethan should have ignored them.
Instead, he heard something.
Samuel's voice.
"We're running out of time."
The other man answered:
"The old man is coming back."
Samuel cursed.
"Then accelerate the transfer."
Ethan froze.
He quietly pulled out his phone.
He began recording.
But before he could capture more, someone stepped behind him.
"What are you doing?"
Ethan turned.
It was the security supervisor.
Ethan quickly put his phone away.
"Nothing."
The supervisor stared at him.
"Go home."
Ethan nodded.
But before leaving, he saw Samuel hand the stranger an envelope.
The stranger opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Ethan couldn't see the photograph clearly.
But he saw one detail.
A young man.
Standing beside a car.
The same man from Edward's photograph.
Daniel Whitmore.
Ethan finished telling Edward what he had seen.
Edward remained silent.
Then he asked:
"Did you keep the recording?"
Ethan's face fell.
"I thought I deleted it."
"Thought?"
"I changed phones two months ago."
"Your old phone?"
"I still have it."
"Where?"
"At home."
Edward stood immediately.
"Don't tell anyone."
"Why?"
"Because if that recording contains what I think it does..."
He stopped.
"What?"
Edward looked at him.
"It may prove my son was alive after the accident."
Ethan's heart began pounding.
"You think Daniel survived?"
"I don't know."
"But Richard said—"
"Richard has been lying to me for twenty years."
Edward walked toward the door.
"Let's find out how much."
They went to Ethan's apartment.
The old phone was inside a drawer.
Ethan found it beneath some receipts.
He plugged it in.
The screen flickered.
Nothing happened.
"Dead battery," Ethan said.
Edward nodded.
"Charge it."
Twenty minutes later, the phone turned on.
Ethan opened the old video files.
There were dozens.
Most were meaningless.
Food.
Friends.
Work.
A birthday.
Then Ethan found the date.
Six months earlier.
He pressed play.
The screen showed the service entrance.
Rain.
Headlights.
Samuel.
A second man.
The video was shaky.
Ethan had been hiding.
The audio was poor.
But the voices were audible.
Samuel said:
"We have to move the money before Whitmore returns."
The stranger replied:
"Does he know about Daniel?"
Samuel froze.
"Nobody knows about Daniel."
The video ended.
Ethan looked at Edward.
Edward was pale.
"Play it again."
They watched it again.
Then again.
Edward closed his eyes.
"Daniel."
Ethan whispered:
"That's not proof he's alive."
"No."
Edward opened his eyes.
"But it's proof someone wanted me to believe he was dead."
Suddenly, Ethan's phone rang.
His mother.
He answered.
"Mom?"
Her voice was shaking.
"Where are you?"
"Home."
"Are you alone?"
Ethan looked at Edward.
"Yes."
His mother whispered:
"Don't trust anyone from the dealership."
"Why?"
"Because your grandfather didn't work for them."
Ethan frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"He owned part of the company."
Edward looked sharply at Ethan.
His mother continued.
"And your grandfather wasn't the only person who disappeared."
Ethan's voice dropped.
"Who else?"
A pause.
"Your father."
The call ended.
Ethan stared at the phone.
Edward whispered:
"Your father?"
Ethan nodded slowly.
"I was told he died when I was a baby."
Edward looked at the screen.
Then at Ethan.
Something was changing in his expression.
"What's your father's name?"
Ethan answered.
"Michael Miller."
Edward stood completely still.
"Michael Miller."
"Yes."
Edward's face had gone white.
"You don't understand."
"What?"
Edward looked at the photograph of Daniel.
Then at Ethan.
"Michael Miller was my son's best friend."
Ethan couldn't breathe.
"What?"
Edward stepped closer.
"He was with Daniel the night of the accident."
For the next hour, neither man spoke much.
Edward made several calls.
Most went unanswered.
Then one person answered.
An elderly woman named Margaret.
Edward asked her one question.
"Do you remember Michael Miller?"
Her answer was immediate.
"Yes."
"Did he die?"
"No."
Edward closed his eyes.
Ethan stared at him.
"He's alive?"
Margaret's voice became quieter.
"Last I knew."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Edward asked:
"Did Daniel survive?"
Silence.
Margaret began crying.
"Edward..."
"Please."
"I don't know."
"Tell me what you know."
"I saw them."
"When?"
"The night of the accident."
"Where?"
"At the old service road."
Edward gripped the phone.
"What did you see?"
"Michael was bleeding."
"And Daniel?"
A long silence.
Then Margaret whispered:
"Daniel was alive."
The call ended.
Ethan stared at Edward.
Neither man moved.
Finally Ethan said:
"Why would they hide that?"
Edward looked at him.
"Because someone wanted control of my company."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Samuel?"
"Maybe."
"Richard?"
"Maybe."
"Then who can we trust?"
Edward looked at Ethan.
"You."
Ethan almost laughed.
"Why me?"
Edward's answer was simple.
"Because they didn't know you mattered."
That evening, Ethan's mother finally came to the apartment.
She was carrying an old cardboard box.
She placed it on the table.
"I promised your father I would never open this."
Ethan stared.
"Why now?"
"Because you're involved."
She looked at Edward.
"I didn't know you were with him."
Edward nodded.
"Neither did I."
She opened the box.
Inside were photographs.
Documents.
Letters.
And a small metal key.
Ethan picked up a photograph.
It showed three young men.
Daniel Whitmore.
Michael Miller.
And a third man.
Ethan recognized him immediately.
Richard Hale.
He looked much younger.
The three men stood beside a car.
On the back of the photograph was a handwritten note:
The three of us built this together.
Ethan looked at Edward.
"You knew Richard?"
Edward smiled bitterly.
"I hired him."
His eyes hardened.
"I trusted him."
Ethan picked up another document.
It was a partnership agreement.
Daniel owned shares.
Michael owned shares.
Richard owned shares.
But there was something strange.
Richard's shares had increased dramatically after Daniel's death.
Ethan looked up.
"How?"
Edward stared at the document.
"That's what we're going to find out."
At 11:17 p.m., Ethan received a text.
Unknown number.
You should have stayed fired.
Another message appeared.
The old man can't protect you.
Then a photograph.
Ethan opened it.
His blood ran cold.
It showed him leaving the dealership that afternoon.
Taken from across the street.
Another message appeared.
Tomorrow, don't come to work.
Ethan stared at the screen.
Edward saw his face.
"What is it?"
Ethan handed him the phone.
Edward read the messages.
His expression became cold.
"You're not going to work tomorrow."
Ethan nodded.
"I figured."
Edward shook his head.
"No."
He looked toward the window.
"They want you afraid."
"What should I do?"
Edward looked at him.
"Do the opposite."
Ethan frowned.
"What?"
"Come to work."
"Why?"
"Because if someone is watching you..."
Edward picked up the photograph.
"...we're going to make them believe you still don't know anything."
Ethan understood.
"You want to use me as bait."
Edward looked uncomfortable.
"No."
"Then what?"
Edward sighed.
"I want to give you a choice."
"What choice?"
"Walk away."
Ethan looked at the old man.
"Can I?"
"Yes."
"Will you?"
Edward smiled.
"I'll understand."
Ethan looked at the photographs.
His grandfather.
His father.
Daniel.
The dealership.
All connected by a secret nobody had told him.
He thought about Samuel firing him.
He thought about the old man in the battered coat.
He thought about the way Edward had treated him.
Then he looked at the message on his phone.
The old man can't protect you.
Ethan deleted it.
"I'm staying."
Edward nodded.
"I thought you might."
The next morning, Ethan returned to Grant Premier Motors.
He wore the same suit.
Same shoes.
Same employee badge.
But this time, the badge didn't say Sales Associate.
It said:
Special Consultant — Office of the Founder.
Samuel was nowhere to be seen.
Richard was absent.
The dealership was unusually quiet.
Ethan walked to the showroom.
The blue coupe stood beneath the spotlight.
Its polished surface reflected his face.
Edward appeared beside him.
"You ready?"
Ethan nodded.
"Yes."
Edward looked at him.
"One more thing."
"What?"
"If anyone asks why you're here..."
Ethan smiled.
"What do I say?"
Edward looked toward the glass doors.
"Tell them the truth."
"Which is?"
Edward smiled.
"You were fired."
Ethan laughed.
"And?"
"And the man who fired you no longer works here."
Ethan's smile faded.
"Samuel's gone?"
Edward nodded.
"Effective five minutes ago."
"Where is he?"
"Being questioned by federal investigators."
Ethan stared.
"Then who runs the dealership?"
Edward looked at him.
"You do."
Ethan nearly laughed.
"Me?"
"Temporarily."
"Why?"
Edward's expression became serious.
"Because I need someone I can trust."
Ethan looked around the showroom.
Then toward the blue coupe.
For the first time, he didn't feel like a salesman.
He felt like someone standing at the beginning of a story he didn't understand.
Edward walked away.
Ethan remained by the car.
Then his phone vibrated.
One new message.
Unknown number.
You think Samuel was the enemy.
A second message appeared.
He wasn't.
A third.
Ask Edward what happened to his wife.
Ethan stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
And ask him why your father disappeared.
Ethan slowly lowered the phone.
Across the showroom, Edward had stopped walking.
He turned.
Their eyes met.
Edward knew.
Somehow, he knew Ethan had received something.
Ethan walked toward him.
"What happened to your wife?"
Edward's face changed.
"What?"
"Your wife."
Silence.
Ethan held up the phone.
"Someone told me to ask you."
Edward stared at the message.
Then he whispered:
"She's not dead."
Ethan froze.
Edward looked toward the locked doors.
"She's the reason your father disappeared."
And before Ethan could ask another question, every light in the dealership went out.
The showroom fell into darkness.
A second later, the security alarm screamed.
May you like
And somewhere in the darkness, a man's voice whispered:
"Welcome back, Whitmore."
