Chapter 4 - THE MANIFEST THAT CHANGED THE STORY
Anna sent preservation notices to my family, the company, the cabin manufacturer, and the independent hauling crews Mercer Mountain Structures used during busy months.
By noon, Richard had left six voicemails.
I listened to none of them.
The practical cost arrived faster. My company access was revoked. My direct deposit stopped. The full monthly health-insurance premium was nearly two thousand dollars, and Noah needed follow-up appointments for his lungs.
Claire’s life-insurance money was protected for Noah’s future. I had savings, but not enough to live indefinitely while fighting the people who controlled my paycheck.
Anna warned me that filing formal complaints would probably end any chance of returning quietly to the business.
“They already decided I’m unstable,” I said. “Quietly returning means agreeing with them.”
Two days later, an independent hauler named Luis Benton responded to the preservation notice. He had moved one of the cabins.
Luis met Anna and me at a coffee shop near the county courthouse. He seemed more uncomfortable than defensive.
“We were told it was an emergency asset relocation,” he said. “Troy said a lender inspection had been moved up.”
“What time did you arrive?”
“Eight fifteen. We staged down the road until the hikers left.”
My throat tightened.
“You were waiting before Noah and I started walking?”
Luis nodded.
“Mr. Mercer came down and gave us the signal.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
He slid a copy of the transport manifest across the table. Two company-owned demonstration cabins had been listed by serial number. The destination was a fenced industrial lot in Farmington, New Mexico.
The scheduled loading time was 9:10 a.m.
The estimated completion time was 10:40.
Beside the equipment checklist, someone had added three items by hand:
Two coolers. Personal luggage. Emergency beacon.
The handwriting belonged to Troy. I had reviewed enough of his job sheets to recognize it.
Luis rubbed the rim of his paper cup.
“There was supposed to be a third vehicle coming back at five.”
“What for?”
“I assumed it was collecting you. Troy canceled it around noon.”
“Did he say why?”
“He said the family situation had resolved itself.”
Anna asked for the dispatch records. Luis agreed to provide them if subpoenaed, but he would not sign an affidavit without speaking to his company’s lawyer.
When we returned to Anna’s office, she laid the manifest beside the satellite account log.
“This proves planning,” she said. “It does not yet prove they intended to leave you for nine days.”
“Someone canceled the only ride back.”
“Then we need to know what the rest of them believed would happen after they drove away.”
My phone vibrated.
May you like
A message from my mother appeared for the first time since the rescue.
Daniel, please meet me alone. Your father cannot know.
