Chapter 7 - The Message Nobody Signed
I told Mae to keep everyone clear of the loading dock and called the county's after-hours fire-safety line. The dispatcher collected our photographs and the address. She said an inspector would check the building before any public event could proceed.
"Don't confront those workers," she added. "If they refuse to leave, call law enforcement."
I followed her advice. Asha recorded the truck's license plate from the public sidewalk. When its driver spotted us, he shut the cargo doors and pulled away without unloading the last two boxes.
Gus was holding Eli's brown work jacket when we returned. In the pocket was a notebook, damp and folded, filled with measurements in cramped handwriting. On one page Eli had drawn the north exit and written, in thick pencil, FAILS EGRESS TEST. DO NOT OPEN.
"Can we give that to the inspector?" Mae asked.
"Yes. Let Gus explain where he found it. We shouldn't pretend we know when Eli wrote it."
I was an engineer. I knew that evidence mattered more than guesses.
Outside, Asha checked the charity account again. Another payment had been scheduled for midnight: sixty-three thousand dollars to TrueSpan. The payment authorization contained a file marked with my digital initials.
"Call the bank's fraud department," I said. "Tell them this is disputed. Keep the account open for investigators, but stop the release if they can."
We were halfway to my car when my phone buzzed with an unknown number.
YOU MADE A SCENE AT YOUR WEDDING. DON'T MAKE ONE AT THE CENTER.
A second message arrived before I could reply.
YOU HAVE A SON, DANIEL. THINK ABOUT HIM.
May you like
Asha read it over my shoulder. Her voice went flat. "That goes to Detective Brooks. Now."
For the first time all evening, I wasn't afraid of losing a business. I was afraid of driving to the wrong address and finding Owen wasn't there.
