James Martin is a long-haul trucker. When he comes home to western Wisconsin, Martin needs a vehicle to haul his two daughters around. Children tend to take up more room in cars as they get older. So Martin found a deal online for a four-door 2003 Toyota Tundra pickup. On Jan. 4, he drove to the dealer, Maryland Avenue Auto Sales in St. Paul, to check it out.

It was perfect. The dealer accepted his trade-in, a 2001 Toyota Tacoma, and financed the rest of the cost through United Auto Credit Corp.’s Bloomington office. The next day, the Tundra belonged to Martin. Or so he thought.

Martin drove the truck home on Jan. 5. Several weeks went by, and the title didn’t arrive in the mail. Martin needed to register the car, because his temporary tags were getting more temporary by the day. Then he started to call Maryland Avenue Auto Sales. He called for two weeks straight. No one picked up. The voicemail was full.

Finally, he got into his new truck and drove to St. Paul. He exited 35E, turned left on Maryland Avenue, crossed over and made a right on Jackson.

He found himself looking at an empty expanse of asphalt. Every car from the once crowded car lot was gone.

“My heart just leaped out of my chest,” Martin recalled.

The office, strangely, was still occupied. Martin marched inside. He asked to speak to the people who sold him the car and filled out the title information. Neither was around. Then he caught a glimpse of the owner, who hurried past him, saying he was working on the problem, and got in his car and drove off.

Then Martin called the finance company. They told him that creditors had swooped in on Maryland Avenue Auto Sales and repossessed all the cars overnight. A company called Minneapolis Auto Auction might have the title, they told him. But his call to the auto auction, which is based in Maple Grove, was fruitless.

Martin called the Minnesota Attorney General’s office to complain, and they promptly mailed off a letter to the now defunct Maryland Avenue Auto Sales. With no word on if or when his title would materialize, Martin dutifully made his $335 monthly payments for a truck he has paid for but isn’t registered to him.

When I met Martin on a rainy afternoon in St. Paul, he was clearly distressed.

“I’m trying to be patient. I’m trying to go through the proper channels,” Martin told me. “I really feel like I’ve been taken advantage of.”

The truth was a bit more complicated. It turns out that while Martin had a truck in search of a title, the people who had the title were looking for the truck. Martin had no idea at the time, but he had bought his truck from a car dealer on the verge of imploding.

On Feb. 28, two lawyers representing the Minneapolis Auto Auction appeared before Hennepin County District Judge Gary Larson and asked him to sign an order demanding that Maryland Avenue Auto Sales and its president, Quentin Minkin, and his wife, Jill Minkin, hand over 11 vehicles.

One of them was the Toyota Tundra. The order was signed nearly two months after Martin had driven the car off the lot.

The auto auction alleged that it had sold those vehicles to Maryland Avenue Auto Sales and the Minkins in a kind of wholesale arrangement. The used car lot would, in turn, be have them to sell “in trust,” meaning the parties had a contract in which the auto auction would get some money from the sale of the cars. But the auto auction believed some of the cars were being sold without the required payback, and that Maryland auto sales and the Minkins owed them nearly $80,000. According to the complaint, which remains unanswered by the defunct dealership and the Minkins, any cars they sold without passing on money to the auto auction were “fraudulent” sales.

Judge Larson authorized the Ramsey County Sheriff to take possession of the vehicles and, if deputies found the vehicles locked in a building, the judge said they “shall cause the building to be broken open and shall take the vehicles…” But when the repo men came, all but one of the cars couldn’t be found. So the Minneapolis Auto Auction hung on to the titles for those cars.

When I contacted the auto auction’s general manager, Scott Keener, on Monday, he said it was the first clue to the whereabouts of the wayward Toyota Tundra. He promised to get everything worked out by surrendering the title to the state, because Martin didn’t do anything wrong. In situations like these, Keener said, his company wants to hold the consumer harmless.

“We’ll figure it out for him,” Keener said.

Martin was thrilled to hear the truck he paid for might finally be within his ownership grasp. “Fantastic!”

The Minkins voicemail at their home wasn’t taking messages Monday. As for Maryland Avenue Auto Sales, the number has been disconnected. But when I visited the car lot several weeks ago, there was a big new sign, “Jackson Auto Sales,” with a new number. The phone just rings and rings and rings. It has no dealer license with the state, however, so for now, it’s just wishful thinking.

So what would have happened if Martin’s title had never been found? A car owner can go to court, pay a fee ($200-$250, typically) and get a court order for the state to issue a new title, said Kristine Chapin, a public information specialist with the Minnesota Department of Public Safety. Chapin said stories like Martin’s are becoming more common as the economy weakens and more car dealers go out of business.

“Some people take pains to take care of their customers,” she said. “Some just close shop and walk away. These people are stuck in title limbo.”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 4th, 2008 at 9:18 am and is filed under Buyer beware, Complaint sagas. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.