55 jobs · 12 appliances
Every page says what the work involves, what moves the figure, and what the visit is like on an Electrolux that is usually fitted into the kitchen around it. The starting figures are on the page for the job, not behind a form.
Every job we list
Sorted by the appliance they belong to. Each page carries its own starting figure.
Finding out what has actually gone wrong, before any part is named or priced. On this badge the opening question is usually about access rather than age: a counter-depth cabinet scribed into an opening, a column captured behind a trim kit, a wall oven sitting in a tall unit — each has to be brought far enough forward to be reached, and establishing that in advance is what separates one appointment from two. The charge is credited against the repair if you go ahead. Where our honest recommendation turns out to be that the machine is not worth mending, you still get that recommendation, and the charge does not change.
Scheduled work on the parts that fail from accumulation rather than from age: condenser coils in salt air, a dryer duct that has been narrowing for four years, a dishwasher sump, the fold in a washer door seal that never dries out in this climate. On a kitchen where the appliances were specified together it is worth doing them together — the visit costs less than the sum of its parts and it catches the one that was about to fail.
Fitting an appliance properly, which on this badge usually means fitting it into something. Columns go behind trim kits, counter-depth cabinets go into openings that were drawn for them, wall ovens and built-in microwaves go into tall units, and every one of those has a clearance and an air path that the appliance depends on. This maker sends three of its own washer codes and two of its dryer codes back to whoever installed the machine — which is a fair measure of how much installation decides here.
When the board is genuinely the answer — and it is worth saying that it often is not. A great many appliances condemned as "a board problem" have a sensor lying to a board that is working perfectly. This maker helps here more than most: F12, F13 and the F3/F20/F26 family are published as board-level conditions by name, so when one of them is on the display the diagnosis has a document behind it rather than an assumption.
The call that matters most and the one where the description decides everything. One warm compartment and one cold one points at air — defrosting, a duct, a damper, the evaporator fan. Both compartments drifting together points at the sealed system or the condenser. On a counter-depth cabinet the difference is worth establishing on the phone, because the expensive half of this visit is getting the unit out of its opening and we would rather do that once with the right part already on the van.
Frost on the shelves, an evaporator sealed into a block of ice, or a cabinet that behaves for a week after every visit and then slides again. Three parts do this job — something that heats, something that decides when, and a route for the water to leave — and on a full-height column the geometry makes it worse than on a small box. The evaporator is tall, the ice climbs from the floor of it upward, and by the time anything is noticeable on the top shelf there is a great deal of ice underneath.
Cold is manufactured in one compartment and has to be carried to the other. Let the fan doing the carrying slow, seize or stop, and the freezer stays perfectly cold while the fresh-food side climbs — which is why this single part explains most of what people report as "the freezer is fine and the fridge is not". It is also among the cheaper things that can be wrong with a cabinet of this price, which makes it worth confirming before anyone starts talking about compressors.
The highest-value hour anybody spends on refrigeration in this region, and the one most reliably skipped. A condenser sheds the heat the cabinet removes, and in salt air within a few miles of the coast it silts up with a mixture nobody planned for. On a built-in column or a cabinet in a trim kit it is worse, because the air reaches the coil through a defined route that also collects. A choked condenser runs the compressor continuously and shortens the life of the most expensive part in the appliance.
A seal that no longer pulls is a cabinet running continuously and losing anyway, and in this humidity it also means condensation, frost and eventually a door that is wet more often than it is dry. On this badge the doors are heavy — a 33-inch column door, often carrying a panel or a trim kit — and years of that weight take the door slightly out of square before the gasket itself is worn out. Which of the two it is decides whether this is a part or an adjustment.
Water on the floor from a refrigerator has three ordinary sources and they are easy to tell apart once you know: the defrost drain, the water line to the dispenser and ice maker, or condensation from a seal that is not sealing. On a built-in cabinet the order of urgency is different from a freestanding one, because the water reaches joinery and flooring before anybody sees a puddle — which is why a slow leak in a fitted kitchen costs more than a fast one in a rental.
Slow water, no water, water that tastes of nothing good, or a filter that will not seat. Most of this is the filter and the line rather than the dispenser, and the tell is usually how the ice is behaving at the same time: hollow or undersized cubes alongside slow water means restriction upstream of both. On a built-in cabinet the shutoff is often behind the unit or under the floor, which is a reason to have somebody who can reach it do the work.
The drawer this maker calls TempAdapt runs from −6 °F to 45 °F, which is a span no ordinary compartment attempts, and it does it with its own air path, its own damper and its own sensor. That independence is the useful part of the diagnosis: the drawer can fail while the rest of the cabinet is faultless, and that is an ordinary outcome rather than a contradiction. It is also one of the features people specified the cabinet for, so it is worth repairing rather than working around.
Not a repair in itself — the work that has to happen before one. Columns sit behind trim kits, counter-depth cabinets are scribed into openings, and under-counter units are captured by the countertop above them. Getting any of those out far enough to reach the back is genuine work, sometimes two people, and occasionally it means removing trim that was fitted by a joiner. We price it separately so you can see it rather than finding it inside a repair bill.
The only freezer this badge builds is a 19 cubic foot, 33-inch column made to stand beside its refrigerator twin behind matching trim. Everything written about freezer repair for a chest in a garage is the wrong advice here. The failures are a tall evaporator icing from the bottom, a heavy door losing its seal, and — because the cabinet is captured in joinery — an air path that silted up years ago and has been quietly shortening the compressor's life.
This maker sells no standalone ice maker today, so what we repair is the module inside the French-door cabinets and the 15-inch under-counter unit from the built-in range that preceded the current line. Both are proper appliances with parts behind them. The commonest calls are no ice at all, ice that arrives hollow or small, and a bin that has bonded into one mass after a week away — which in a region with summer outages is a seasonal rather than an occasional problem.
Most ice complaints are water complaints. The line from the wall, the shutoff somebody installed behind a cabinet fifteen years ago, the filter, and the fill valve on the appliance are one chain, and a restriction anywhere in it produces the same symptoms. On a built-in cabinet the awkward part is that half of that chain is behind joinery, which is why this is priced as its own job rather than as an add-on to an ice maker repair.
Ice in the bin and nothing at the door. The mechanism is a motor, an auger, a chute and a flap that has to close so the cabinet does not lose cold air through it, and this maker has an error code of its own — DI SP — for a cube jammed in that chute. The useful distinction is audible: an auger that will not turn is silent or grinding, while a flap that will not open lets you hear the motor run with nothing arriving.
Two cabinets carry this badge — a 24-inch wine cooler and a 24-inch beverage center — and each is a modest compressor working behind glass in a room that never really cools. Drifting through the hot part of the day and catching up again overnight points at how the unit was fitted far more often than at the unit itself: set flush with nothing behind it and no grille in front, a cabinet simply re-breathes its own warm exhaust. That gets examined before any component is condemned.
Glass doors are the whole thermal problem of these cabinets in one part, and they are also where the ordinary complaints come from: misting on the inside, a door that no longer pulls shut, a hinge that has taken the weight of a glass panel for eight years. Constant condensation is rarely the glass — it is a seal that has lost its pull, a rack loaded so full the door never quite closes, or a setpoint below anything the wine asks for.
The wide walnut-slat shelving is the reason people chose this cabinet over a cheaper one, and it is a serviceable part rather than something to live with. Shelves that bind, runners that have gone out of square under years of front-loading, a slat that has split — all of them are fixable, and none of them is worth a separate call-out on their own. Mention it when you book something else and it is usually done in the same visit.
Standing water in the bottom, or a cycle that ends with the load still wet and dirty. This maker publishes one code for it — i40, a clogged filter or sump — and the honest thing to say is that a real share of these calls end at the filter and the glass trap, both of which lift out by hand. When water still stands with the filter removed, the problem is past the filter: the pump, the impeller, the drain hose or the air gap.
Water at the front of the machine, under the cabinet, or showing up as a swollen kick board some weeks after it started. A dishwasher is built into a run and leaks travel where the floor slopes, so what you see is rarely where the water is coming from. The ordinary sources are the door gasket, the sump seal, a hose connection and — more often than people expect — detergent foaming over from the wrong product or an overloaded lower rack.
Dishes coming out gritty, filmed or still wearing what went in. On these machines the feature that does most of the work is SmartBoost — it premixes detergent with water before the first spray — and when it stops, what people notice is not an error but poor results on the short cycles, which they blame on the detergent for months. Beyond that it is spray arms, the filter, water temperature and, in this county, scale.
A machine that will not start, or one that starts and stops part-way. The latch has to close a switch before the control will run anything, so a door that feels shut and is not is a no-start with no other symptom. The other half of this job is the springs and cables that carry the door — when one breaks the door drops open under its own weight, which is both a nuisance and, in a kitchen with a tiled floor, a way to break the door.
Plastics coming out wet is normal on these machines and worth saying plainly — they dry with residual heat rather than a blast of hot air, so glass and china dry and plastic does not. What is not normal is everything coming out wet, or the machine sitting on Hd for half an hour and then washing cold. The maker publishes the arithmetic for that delay: one to two minutes for each single degree the water has to rise.
The machine fills, washes and then stops with water in the drum, or shows E21 for a pump-out taking too long. This maker's own first answer is not a part: a kinked drain hose, and in a laundry closet where the machine has been pushed back to let the door close, the machine has folded its own hose. After that it is the pump filter — which on a household washing beach towels collects sand as reliably as lint — and only then the pump itself.
Two codes on this maker cover a door that the machine will not accept: E41, where the control thinks the switch is open, and E42, where the lock will not confirm it engaged. They look identical from outside and they are different parts. On a front loader the lock is not a convenience — it is what stands between a turning drum and the room — so the machine will not proceed without it, and it should not.
A washer that will not fill, fills slowly, or keeps filling when nothing asked it to. This maker publishes three codes across that ground — E11 for a long fill, E35 for the pressure sensor reporting overfill, and HO SE where the machine has worked out for itself that the hoses are crossed. Two of the three are installation problems, and if the machine was fitted or moved in the last month the fix is very likely free and not ours to charge for.
Clothes coming out soaked, a machine that walks across the floor, or a spin that starts and aborts. On a front loader the machine will refuse to spin an unbalanced load rather than wreck itself, so a machine that spins small loads and not large ones is behaving correctly and telling you something about its suspension. In a second-floor condominium this is also the complaint the neighbors make first.
A drum that crawls, turns one way only, refuses to turn, or makes a noise that tracks its speed. A belt around the drum takes the drive from the motor here, and the two failures separate neatly: once a belt stretches or jumps off you hear the motor working while nothing moves, whereas a motor or control problem leaves total silence. Worth settling before a figure is quoted, because those two answers sit a long way apart on price.
A roar on spin that rises with speed, a drum that moves more than it should when you push it, or rust-colored water appearing where there was none. Bearings are the repair on a front loader where we are most likely to advise against it, and we would rather say that before the work than halfway through. On a 700 Series machine in a building laundry it is usually worth doing; on an eight-year-old compact it usually is not.
Water under a front loader is usually one of four things and they are distinguishable by where and when: the door seal during the wash, the drain hose during pump-out, the inlet connections all the time, or the sump and pump underneath. In a laundry closet, on a second floor, none of these stays small for long — which is the one reason we will ask you to stop using the machine rather than book you for next week.
The complaint everybody has and nobody mentions until something else needs fixing. A front loader seals tight, which is what lets it wash with so little water and also what traps the water it used. The gasket has a fold at the bottom that holds water, lint and detergent, and in this climate it does not dry between loads on its own. Most of this is maintenance rather than repair, and we would rather tell you that than sell you a part.
The 24-inch pair — a 2.4 cubic foot washer and a 4.0 cubic foot dryer — is its own design rather than a shrunk version of the full-size machines, and its parts are not interchangeable with them. It lives in condominium closets and in-law units across this region, usually stacked, usually with a vent run that was an afterthought. Telling us on the phone that it is the compact pair saves a visit that arrives with the wrong parts.
A laundry tower is a washer and a dryer built as one unit behind one control panel, not two machines stacked. That changes access more than mechanism — both halves are reached through the single cabinet — and it changes the replacement conversation completely, because you cannot replace half of it. Four of this maker's laundry machines are towers, and they are increasingly what goes into a renovated condominium laundry.
The drum turns, the cycle runs, and nothing gets dry. On an electric dryer that pattern says something specific before anybody opens the machine: the motor runs on 120 volts and the element needs both legs of 240, so a dryer that tumbles without heating is very often a supply problem rather than an appliance one. This maker publishes two codes that say exactly that — H2/B2 for the supply and H4/B4 for wiring — and both send you outside the appliance.
When the element is genuinely open, replacing it is straightforward work — and the part of this job that matters is what is done alongside it. An element rarely fails for no reason: restricted airflow makes it cycle hot, and a thermal fuse or a thermostat that went at the same time is the machine's record of that. Fitting the element and leaving the duct blocked is how the same repair comes back inside a year.
Six of this maker's eleven dryers are gas, and a gas dryer that tumbles without heat is a different machine from an electric one with the same symptom. The sequence is igniter, flame sensor, then the two coils on the gas valve, and it fails in a way you can hear: an igniter that glows and goes out without a flame is a coil or a sensor, while an igniter that never glows is upstream of that.
The item on this site where doing nothing is genuinely unsafe. This maker publishes a code for it — EF1, ventilation blockage — and sends it back to the installer rather than to service, which in a South Florida building is fairer than it sounds: the run goes up through a wall to a roof or a soffit, it is long, it has elbows, and the part that blocks is the end nobody can see. A dryer needing two runs for one load has been telling you this for months.
Automatic cycles that stop too early, run too long, or will not stop at all, while timed cycles work perfectly. That combination is the moisture sensor, and this maker publishes it as E 4 with unusually generous wording: the dryer keeps working, and what you lose is the automatic programs. The sensor is a pair of metal strips inside the drum opening reading the resistance across damp fabric, and the commonest reason they stop reading is a film of fabric softener rather than a failed part.
A dryer that hums without turning, or one that turns with a rumble, a squeal or a thump once per revolution. The drum rides on rollers and is turned by a belt around its circumference, and each of those parts announces itself differently: a snapped belt gives a motor running and a still drum, worn rollers give a rumble that rises with load, and a glazed idler gives a squeal. On a stacked or tower installation the access is most of the job.
An oven that stays cold, heats slowly, or heats and then quits part-way. Before any of the expensive answers there are two free ones on this badge worth ruling out: demo mode, which accepts every setting and counts down a preheat without heating at all, and F10, which on the stone-baked pizza ovens is frequently the Pizza Shield in the wrong rack. Both are published by the maker and both cost somebody a call-out every year.
Everything comes out consistently wrong by about the same amount, or a recipe that worked for years has stopped working. That is calibration, and it has two ordinary causes: the sensor drifting, or the control losing what it was calibrated to — which is precisely what F13 reports on this maker. Worth knowing on a double oven that the two cavities have separate sensors, so one being right tells you nothing about the other.
A door that will not close flush, one that drops open, or a glass panel that has misted between its layers. All of it is heat management: a door that does not seal lets the cavity lose heat unevenly, which shows up as food browning on one side long before anybody thinks about the door. The hinges carry real weight on a 30-inch double oven, and they are replaced in pairs because one new hinge against one aged one puts the door out of true.
Five of this maker's codes — F90 through F94 — describe one mechanism: the motorized latch that bolts the oven shut for a clean cycle. Nearly every one of them arrives the morning after a self-clean, because that is the only occasion the latch is asked for everything it has. The maker's own route out is the UNLOCK key, and on these ovens the screen hands you a code to enter back. What it is not is a door to lever.
The low-temperature mode on this maker's single and double wall ovens, and one of the specific reasons people chose them. It holds a controlled low temperature with its own sensing, which means it can stop working while conventional baking is completely unaffected — not a contradiction and not a whole-oven failure. It is also the kind of feature people live without for a year before mentioning it, and it is worth repairing if it is why the oven was bought.
Clicking that never lights, a burner that lights and goes out, or a flame that is yellow and lazy where its neighbors are blue. On a sealed burner the ordinary pair is a clogged port or a cap that went back very slightly out of true after a clean, and both are ordinary work. The gas rangetop and the drop-in cooktops on this badge share burner design, so the diagnosis carries across — the access does not.
Every glass cooking surface on this badge is induction — there is no radiant element in the line at all — and it fails in ways a radiant top does not. Zones that heat for a moment and cut out are usually the unit protecting itself: a blocked vent underneath, often a drawer packed tight against it, or a pan too warped to couple properly. Both are free to rule out. Beyond that, zones are driven by their own power stages, so one dead zone is good news rather than bad.
A cracked or chipped induction surface is a part, and a replaceable one — but it is among the more expensive single parts on the appliance, so it deserves an honest conversation rather than an automatic yes. We quote the glass against the value of the unit and tell you which way we would go. In the meantime a cracked top should not be used: the glass is structural and the electronics beneath it are not meant to meet anything spilled.
One of this maker's five cooking surfaces is a 36-inch gas rangetop, and it is not a cooktop with a different name. It is deeper, it has a raised back panel and its own controls, it sits in a counter run with the oven built in somewhere else, and its parts are its own. When somebody books a cooktop repair and we find a rangetop, the visit usually has to be repeated with the right parts — so we ask when the appointment is made, and this page exists so the distinction is findable.
This maker builds no countertop microwave — the three it sells are two built-in units and an over-the-range convection model — and that changes the whole economics. A countertop box is replaced for less than a service call; a built-in has to match an opening and a trim kit, and the current line has exactly three models. It is also the one appliance on this site we ask you not to open: the high-voltage capacitor holds a lethal charge long after the unit is unplugged.
The over-the-range unit is doing two jobs and the second one gets forgotten. It is the kitchen's ventilation as well as a microwave, and most of the complaints we attend about it are about air rather than about cooking: grease filters that have never been washed, a damper stuck closed, or a unit set to recirculate when it is actually ducted to the outside. All three are checkable in minutes and none of them is a magnetron.
A door that catches, drops, or no longer closes square is not a cosmetic problem on this appliance. The door carries the interlock switches that allow the unit to run at all, so a misaligned door is either a microwave that will not start or — the reason we ask people not to defer it — one that runs while not sealing as it was designed to. On a drop-down door the hinges take the full weight every single time it opens.
We are not Electrolux Professional — that is a separate business with its own dealers. What we do is the domestic machines on this badge that are doing commercial work, which in this region means a great many of them: building laundry rooms, staff kitchens, small offices. A washer rated for six cycles a week doing forty is not defective; it is reaching in eighteen months the wear a household would reach in ten years, and what helps is knowing which part goes first in that room.
A different service from a repair, and worth booking as one. On a unit that changes guests on a Friday, a diagnosis on Wednesday with the part fitted on Thursday is worth more than a faster visit that ends in something being ordered. Tell us the turnover schedule when you book and we will plan around the calendar rather than against it. Managers with several units usually do better on an arrangement than on individual call-outs.
Why the laundry list is the long one
Eleven dryers, six front-load washers and four towers — 22 machines in all, against 6 refrigeration cabinets and two dishwashers. If you own one appliance from this badge, the odds are it is in the laundry room.
So the laundry jobs here are written in detail and stocked accordingly, and three of them exist only because this maker publishes a dryer code guide that its sister badge does not publish at all.
And one job the sister site does not have
Every French-door refrigerator in this line is counter-depth. The largest cold cabinets are 33-inch columns sold behind flat or louvered trim kits. Wall ovens go into tall units and both built-in microwaves go into openings cut for them.
On equipment like that, access is the first cost of most repairs and sometimes most of the visit. We quote it as its own line so you can see it rather than find it folded into a part.
Before you book
Or start from the machine
If you would rather begin from what it is than from what needs doing to it.
Six cabinets in the whole current line, and every French door among them is counter-depth — three of them, at 21 and 23 cubic feet. There is no standard-depth box here, no side-by-side and no top-freezer; the deep end of this line is a pair of 33-inch columns, one refrigerator and one freezer, sold with trim kits so they read as cabinetry. That is a refrigerator somebody drew into a plan, and it changes the work: the cabinet is tight in its surround, the water line runs where the joiner left it, and getting the unit out is half the visit before anything is diagnosed.
Two freezers in the line, and both of them are the same thing: a 33-inch, 19 cubic foot all-freezer column, built to stand beside the refrigerator column of the same size and be trimmed to match. There is no chest freezer here, no upright for a garage and no convertible box. A freezer on this badge is half of a wall of cabinetry, usually in a kitchen or a butler's pantry, and it is treated as joinery by everybody except the person who has to open it up. Practically, that means everything the refrigerator column needs — clearance, a clean air path, access — matters here twice over.
This make currently sells no standalone ice maker at all — zero cabinets in the live catalog. So this page is about the two ice makers we actually attend on this badge: the module inside the French-door cabinets, and the 15-inch under-counter unit from the earlier built-in line, which is still in plenty of South Florida bars and butler's pantries. Both are worth writing about honestly rather than implying a product line that has been discontinued. Ice is also the one part of a refrigerator that this make gives its own error code — DI SP, for a jam in the chute — and that code is the start of most of these calls.
Two cabinets, both 24 inches and both under a counter: a wine cooler with wide walnut-slat shelving, and a 5.1 cubic foot beverage center. There is no full-height wine column on this badge and there never was in this generation — anybody selling you one has a different make in mind. These live in a bar run or an island, behind a glass door, in a house where the ambient never really drops, and the calls follow from that geometry rather than from any weakness in the machine: losing ground through a hot afternoon, misted glass, and a fan that has become audible from the next room.
Two machines in the entire current line, both 24 inches, both stainless tub, and both carrying SmartBoost — the feature that premixes water and detergent before it reaches the dishes. Two models is not a thin line so much as a single machine in two door treatments, which is unusually simple to work on: what we open is nearly always the same platform, and the spares behind it are the group's, which run deep. This make publishes three dishwasher codes and two of them are not failures at all — a delay counting down and a heat delay waiting for water. The third, i40, is a filter.
Six machines, and every one of them is a front loader — 300, 400, 500, 600 and 700 Series plus a 24-inch compact. This make builds no top-load washer at all, which is the clearest single difference between this badge and the mass-market half of the same group. Laundry is the deep end of this line rather than an afterthought: 22 machines across washers, dryers and towers against six refrigerators. The maker publishes eight washer codes with real procedures behind them, and — worth knowing before you are quoted — three of those eight are installation problems rather than failures.
Eleven dryers — the largest single family in this maker's whole US line, bigger than every refrigerator, range and dishwasher it sells put together. Electric and gas at each of the 300, 400, 500, 600 and 700 Series, all at 8.0 cubic feet, plus a 24-inch compact at 4.0. Four more machines are laundry towers, where the washer and dryer are one unit. This badge also publishes a dryer error code guide, which its mass-market sister does not publish at all — seven rows, and three of them send you back to the installer rather than to a repair company.
Six ranges, at 30 and 36 inches, in three fuels: induction, dual-fuel and front-control gas. There is no electric coil range and no plain radiant range in this line at all — which is precisely the machine that fills the rental kitchens its sister badge sells into. A 36-inch range is a deliberate purchase and usually the center of the room, and that shows in how these calls come in: people describe what the range was doing when it stopped, not just that it stopped. Almost every published range code on this badge is a name plus a power cycle, so the honest page says that rather than inventing a checklist.
Worth saying
A dishwasher counting down from a number between one and twenty-four has a delay start running. A dishwasher showing Hd is heating water and will begin on its own. A washer rinsing over and over is clearing foam and is working correctly. An oven that lights up and never warms may simply be in demo mode.
None of those is a repair, and all four are on this site because a visit to be told so is a visit nobody should pay for.
Before you book
Yes, and a good deal of what we open is exactly that. The ICON-era built-in cabinets and the 15-inch under-counter units are still in kitchens across this region, and parts for them are still reachable. We will tell you honestly when a particular part is not.
The owner's appliance list does not grant this site that type, even though the maker sells hoods. We would rather say that plainly than let the absence look like an oversight. The over-the-range microwave, which is also a vent, is covered.
Yes. If you go ahead with the repair, the diagnostic comes off the bill. If the answer is that the machine is not worth repairing, you have paid for the answer rather than for a part, and we will say so plainly.
In more detail
55 jobs, and they lean the way this maker’s own range leans. 22 current laundry machines against 6 refrigeration cabinets is an unusual shape for an appliance brand, and it is the reverse of the volume badge in the same corporate group. So drains, pumps, door locks, vents and moisture sensors take more of this list than defrost and condensers do. An even spread would have been tidier and less true.
Access to a column or a counter-depth cabinet is a service of its own on this site rather than an invisible line inside somebody else’s quote, and so is a laundry tower, where two machines share one cabinet and you cannot replace half of it. Both exist because of what this maker actually sells.
Every number on these pages is a from. The diagnostic is from $95, credited toward the repair, and no final price is published anywhere on this site — the cost is measured at your machine and agreed in writing before anything is opened.
Describe what the machine is doing and we will tell you which page you are on — and whether it is a job at all. If a diagnostic is the right next step it is from $95, credited toward the repair.
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