Chapter 17 - THE MISSING CALIPER
The garage attached to their suburban split-level felt colder than usual.
David laid the brace on his workbench under the fluorescent shop light. He pulled his magnifying visor down over his eyes. Evans was right. The scrape was perfectly uniform. It hadn’t been done with a kitchen knife or a piece of sandpaper. It had been done with a precision rotary tool.
David opened his locked red tool chest. The third drawer down held his micro-files and digital calipers.
The digital caliper was missing.
He closed his eyes. The only other person who possessed the key to the chest was Claire. She kept it on her keyring because she occasionally needed his heavy-duty tape for shipping out her online boutique orders.
Why would Claire want to keep their daughter in a brace?
The answer hit him with the force of a physical blow. The disability trust.
Three years ago, when the original car accident shattered Lily’s femur, the at-fault driver’s insurance had set up a structured medical payout. As long as Lily required specialized orthopedic support, the trust paid out six thousand dollars a month to the family for “ongoing care.”
That money didn’t just pay for the brace. It paid the mortgage. It kept David’s struggling auto shop afloat.
David heard the interior door open. Claire stepped into the garage, holding a laundry basket. She froze when she saw him standing over the brace.
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“David?” she asked, her voice tight. “Why is Lily’s leg piece on your bench?”
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