Barbara's beater car wheezed into the cracked asphalt lot of Cars R Us, its muffler rattling with every bump. The vehicle gave a final cough and belched a plume of smoke just as a salesman in a garish plaid jacket hurried out from the office. The black cloud caught him full in the face. He staggered back, coughing hard, before yanking a soot-stained handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his cheeks with practiced irritation.
Barbara pushed her door open and stepped out, brushing her hands against her jeans. "Oh, I'm so sorry. My car is having a little bit of engine trouble."
The salesman forced his grin back into place and straightened his tie. "No problem, ladies. Welcome to Cars R Us! What can I do for you today? Looking for new or used?"
Pamela glanced at Barbara, who met her eyes with a steady look. "We're looking for new," Barbara said firmly.
The salesman's expression brightened instantly, his posture sharpening with enthusiasm. "Oh really? New? And how will you be paying today?"
Pamela and Barbara exchanged another glance. Pamela's lips curved faintly. "In cash."
The man cracked his neck, his grin fading into something more serious. "Oh, really?"
Barbara leaned slightly toward Pamela and whispered, "He's visibly excited, isn't he?"
Pamela folded her arms. "I bet the commissions here are really good."
The salesman chuckled. "You aren't just whistling Dixie, girl. Now, what kind of category are we looking at? Personal use? Business use? Or… something beyond business use, but you'd rather leave it vague so there's no trail behind it?"
Pamela's eyes narrowed, her tone cool. "You, sir, know how to phrase things. It's the third option. And yes, we're paying in cash."
The salesman's grin returned, sharper this time. "Excellent, excellent. My favorite kind of paper trail is not leaving one behind at all."
He gestured with a flourish toward the rear of the lot. A steel door waited there, its keypad blinking red in the afternoon light. "Follow me to our gray industry area."
Pamela leaned close to Barbara as they walked. "We should leave your old car here. Maybe they can burn it or something."
Barbara nodded without hesitation. "Yeah, I agree."
They popped the trunk, pulling out a heavy duffel bag stuffed with neatly stacked cash. The weight sagged in Pamela's hands, but she carried it easily. She handed it over to the salesman as if it were no more than groceries.
"Can you get rid of this car?" Pamela asked evenly. "Completely. Total breakdown. Burn it to a cinder. Melt it into a metal cube. Ship it to China."
The salesman wiped his palms on his jacket, grinning ear to ear. "Absolutely. We provide disposal services at no additional charge for gray purchase clientele."
Pamela inclined her head. "Your service here is excellent."
"I know," he said, puffing his chest a little. "You can call me Tim. I usually deal in used cars, but for you two… this is definitely a brand-new arrangement."
Barbara crossed her arms. "Excellent."
Tim tilted his head, his pen clicking against his clipboard. "What are your names?"
Pamela's stare was cold. "We didn't give them."
Tim blinked, then chuckled awkwardly. "Right, right… I didn't ask."
He keyed in a code, and the heavy steel door whirred open. A low hum and the smell of oil spilled out as dim lights flickered on inside. Rows of tarped vehicles stretched across the underground garage, shadows hiding their shapes. The air was thick with gasoline and secrets.
Tim held the door open, gesturing them inside. Pamela and Barbara stepped past him, the weight of the duffel bag trailing at their side, their old car left behind to be erased from existence. The steel door clanged shut behind them, sealing them in the gray market showroom.
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