Trent flipped through folders. "Invoices. Contracts. Some old survey stuff."
"Look for title documents. Anything showing he knew about the easement."
"What if there is nothing?"
Marissa answered without hesitation. "Then we already have what we need."
On Thursday morning, the cameras recorded a conversation near the loading bay that would later matter almost as much as the forced cabinet.
Evan Cole, the younger guard, asked, "How long are we supposed to hold this place?"
Trent said, "Until Crowley says."
"Do we have papers if the owner comes back?"
"She has papers."
"You seen them?"
Trent looked at him. "You getting nervous?"
"I am asking."
Marissa walked into frame carrying coffee. "Everything will be finalized. Just make sure we have the office established before Vale gets back. Once possession is established, unwinding it becomes his problem."
Evan looked toward the gate. "That does not sound like a court order."
"It sounds like you are being paid to secure a site," Marissa replied. "Do that."
The clip ended with Evan walking away without answering.
Duncan did not review any of those recordings before coming home. He knew people had entered the warehouse because of Calvin's voicemail and his own report, but he did not yet understand how much they had done. He chose to return in daylight, after his four-day assignment ended, because daylight created witnesses, ordinary business activity, and fewer opportunities for confusion.
By the time his truck turned off the county road at 3:16 Thursday afternoon, Marissa had spent almost seventy-two hours behaving as though the warehouse already belonged to her.
That was why she looked so certain when she ordered Trent to put Duncan in plastic restraints.
And that was why the phone call Trent made from Duncan's federal credential case would become such a violent collision between the reality Marissa had manufactured and the reality recorded everywhere else.
Trent expected the phone call to end Duncan's story. Instead, it began ending Marissa's.
A woman answered on the second ring with the district office greeting. Trent put the call on speaker because he wanted everyone in the loading bay to hear the verification fail in real time.
"I have a man here claiming to be with the United States Marshals Service," he said. "We believe he is impersonating a federal officer."
"Name?" the woman asked.
Trent looked at the credential. "Duncan Vale."