Construction.

Scrap.

Transport.

He had money.

Influence.

Friends.

“Why would he attack you?”

“We found something.”

“What?”

“Not sure yet.”

Nathan spoke for the first time.

“There was an accident.”

Derek looked at him.

Nathan continued.

“Six months ago. A worker died at one of Rusk's construction sites.”

Evelyn stared.

“Accident?”

“That's what they called it.”

Nathan looked down.

“Tommy didn't believe it.”

“Why?”

“He worked construction before joining the club.”

Ryan added, “Tommy knew what unsafe equipment looked like.”

Evelyn's eyes moved toward the old toolbox.

“Earl would have understood.”

Derek nodded.

“We think Tommy found evidence that the accident wasn't an accident.”

The room became silent.

“What kind of evidence?”

“Maintenance records.”

“Where are they?”

Nathan looked toward Derek.

Derek shook his head.

“Gone.”

Evelyn sat down.

The story was becoming darker.

She looked at the four men.

“You said you found something.”

Ryan nodded.

“One of us copied part of the records.”

“Who?”

“Marcus.”

Evelyn looked at the fourth man.

The pale one.

“Where is it?”

Marcus reached inside his vest.

Nothing.

“They took everything.”

Derek suddenly stood.

Evelyn watched him.

“What?”

“Truck.”

“What about it?”

“They didn't find the toolbox.”

“What toolbox?”

“The bike toolbox.”

He looked at Ryan.

“You put the memory card there.”

Ryan's face changed.

“Oh God.”

They rushed toward the truck.

Evelyn followed more slowly.

Inside the old pickup, they searched beneath seats and inside compartments.

Nothing.

Then Evelyn noticed the glove compartment.

“What's that?”

Ryan opened it.

A small black plastic case fell out.

Inside was a memory card.

Everyone froze.

Derek looked at Evelyn.

“You just saved more than four lives.”

Evelyn shook her head.

“I just brought you a toolbox.”

“No.”

Derek held the card.

“You brought us time.”

What Earl Left Behind

They needed a computer.

Evelyn had one.

It was ancient.

Earl had bought it because the salesman promised it would “last forever.”

It had not.

But it still worked.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

Evelyn connected the memory card.

The screen flickered.

Folders appeared.

One contained photographs.

Another contained scanned documents.

The final folder was labeled:

BRIGGS.

Evelyn looked at Derek.

“That's your friend?”

“Yes.”

Derek opened the folder.

Photographs appeared.

Construction equipment.

Broken safety barriers.

Inspection reports.

Workers.

Invoices.

Then a photograph stopped everyone.

A metal support beam.

Cracked.

Rust along the bottom.

A handwritten date.

Six months before Tommy's death.

Nathan leaned closer.

“This is it.”

“What?”

“The support.”

Ryan looked at him.

“This was the accident site.”

Derek stared at the screen.

“Tommy said the beam was removed before investigators arrived.”

Evelyn looked at the photograph.

“Why?”

“To hide the damage.”

The next document was a maintenance record.

Evelyn read it.

She had not been an engineer.

But thirty-three years around machinery had taught her enough.

The inspection dates were wrong.

The signatures were duplicated.

The replacement parts had never been installed.

She pointed.

“This part number.”

Nathan looked.

“What about it?”

“Earl used this brand.”

“So?”

“That's not the right size.”

Everyone stared.

Evelyn zoomed in.

“The record says a reinforced support was installed.”

She tapped the screen.

“But this part number is for a smaller component.”

Ryan's eyes widened.

“Meaning?”

“They billed for something they didn't install.”

Derek looked at Nathan.

Nathan nodded.

“Fraud.”

“And potentially negligence,” Evelyn said.

The room became silent.

The evidence was real.

But evidence was dangerous.

Especially evidence against someone powerful.

Evelyn looked toward the window.

“We need to call the authorities.”

Derek shook his head.

“Which ones?”

“Sheriff.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because we don't know who is working for Rusk.”

Evelyn looked at him.

“You're telling me the sheriff is corrupt?”

“I'm telling you we don't know.”

Evelyn hated uncertainty.

Earl had always hated it too.

He used to say that uncertainty was what killed machines.

Not broken parts.

Not bad weather.

Uncertainty.

Not knowing what was wrong.

She looked at the memory card.

“We need someone outside the county.”

Ryan nodded.

“I know a federal investigator.”

“Who?”

“Agent Helen Carter.”

“FBI?”

“Yes.”

Evelyn looked at the four men.

“Then call her.”

Ryan picked up his phone.

No signal.

Evelyn sighed.