He had come hoping the anonymous letter described isolated incidents.
Now he was hearing the same story from strangers.
Margaret turned toward Reynolds.
"I want every customer complaint from the past eighteen months."
Reynolds nodded.
"Of course."
"Not just formal complaints. I want service desk notes, rejected sales inquiries, internal emails, and employee reports."
"That will take some time."
"Then start now."
Margaret looked toward the showroom employees.
"Anyone who has concerns about customer treatment may contact my office directly. No employee is to be punished for speaking truthfully."
Reynolds looked deeply uncomfortable.
Samuel noticed.
He had known enough managers in his lifetime to recognize the look.
It was the expression of a man suddenly worried that questions might reveal answers he preferred to keep hidden.
Tyler attempted to speak again.
"Ms. Bennett, I understand I made a mistake. I'm sorry."
Margaret looked at him.
"Who are you apologizing to?"
Tyler turned.
"Mr. Bennett, I'm sorry."
Samuel watched him carefully.
"For what?"
Tyler blinked.
"For the way I treated you."
"Why was it wrong?"
The salesman hesitated.
"Because you're the owner."
Samuel's expression fell.
"Then you still don't understand."
Tyler stared at him.
Samuel gestured toward the elderly couple.
"If I had been a retired schoolteacher living on Social Security, would you have treated me any differently?"
Tyler did not answer.
"If I had been a widower looking for a reliable used car, would I have deserved to be shouted at?"
"No, sir."
"If I had walked here because my old vehicle stopped running, would you have been entitled to laugh at me?"
"No."
Samuel nodded.
"Good. Then perhaps we're beginning to understand the problem."
Margaret asked Tyler to remain available while the incident was reviewed.
She refused to announce a punishment immediately.
Samuel appreciated that.
He had spent his career believing that people deserved a fair chance to explain themselves.
But he also believed explanations had to be tested against facts.
And facts were already beginning to emerge.
Margaret escorted her father into a private conference room.
It overlooked the service bays through a wide interior window.
As they sat down, she poured him a glass of water.
"I'm sorry, Dad."
He accepted it.
"You didn't tell him to behave that way."
"No. But I'm responsible for the company."
Samuel nodded.
"That's different."
Margaret sat opposite him.
"I should have noticed."
He studied his daughter's face.
She was fifty-two now.
To the public, she was a formidable executive.
To Samuel, she was still the girl who had once spent an entire summer helping Eleanor wash cars because she wanted to earn money for a bicycle.
"You've done a remarkable job building this business," he said.
Margaret shook her head.
"Not if people are being treated like that."
Samuel looked through the glass toward the service department.
"I used to believe I could tell what kind of business I was running by walking through the shop."
"Can you still?"
He considered.
"I think I've forgotten how."
Margaret leaned back.
"Why didn't you tell me about the letter immediately?"
"I wanted to make certain I wasn't judging anyone unfairly."
"And now?"
He looked at her.
"Now I think the letter may have understated the problem."
Margaret unfolded the page again.
The handwriting troubled her.
Its author knew details about the company.
He or she had described specific sales practices, particular customer experiences, and pressure from management.
The writer also mentioned something Samuel had not noticed during his first reading.
Employees were allegedly encouraged to avoid customers whose purchases were unlikely to produce high commissions.
That allegation suggested a system.
Not merely a rude salesman.
Margaret reached for her tablet.
"I'm ordering an independent review."
Samuel nodded.
"Good."
"I'll have corporate compliance investigate sales incentives, customer complaints, and financing practices."
"Good."
"And Tyler is being removed from customer-facing duties while we review what happened."
Samuel considered this.
"Fair enough."
Margaret looked at her father.
"Why aren't you angrier?"
He smiled sadly.
"Oh, I'm angry."
"You don't look angry."
"I've learned that anger is most useful when it tells you something needs fixing. After that, it tends to get in the way."
Margaret looked down at the anonymous letter.
"I wish Mom were here."
Samuel's expression softened.
"So do I."
For a while, neither spoke.
Outside the conference room, the dealership continued operating.
Customers entered.
Phones rang.
Cars moved through the service bays.