“I don’t.”
“Everyone does.”
“I need money.”
“How bad?”
Jory became still.
Gerald’s rehabilitation coverage was complicated.
Business revenue down.
Property taxes approaching.
Devo’s offers had stopped.
That sounded good.
It also meant the shop had no easy escape.
“How far behind?”
“Not behind.”
“How close?”
“Two months if revenue drops.”
Calvin nodded.
“What if Iron Pines guarantees three days a week through March?”
Jory frowned.
“For what?”
“Mechanic.”
“Contract?”
“Employee.”
“No.”
Calvin blinked.
“Why?”
“I have Dad’s shop.”
“So?”
“If I become your employee, Baxter’s looks like it’s failing.”
“That’s pride.”
“Yes.”
“Expensive.”
“Yes.”
Calvin thought.
“Fine. Retainer contract.”
She looked at him.
“Three guaranteed service days, billed through Baxter’s Garage.”
“That keeps work under my shop.”
“Yes.”
“You planned that.”
“Brack did.”
Jory looked across the garage.
Brack was drinking coffee.
He raised the cup without turning.
She almost smiled.
“Okay.”
That contract stabilized Baxter’s through winter.
Not charity.
Jory repaired club motorcycles.
Iron Pines paid her shop.
Gerald’s business retained cash flow.
Simple.
Useful.
By Christmas, Gerald could walk short distances with a cane.
Speech improved.
Jory still had not told him everything.
Then Sandra asked to interview Gerald.
Doctors approved limited questioning.
Jory sat outside the room.
Not inside.
She hated that.
Gerald remembered Vickers’s visit.
Remembered refusing.
Remembered opening the shop early on August 6.
Then:
Nothing.
Sandra asked whether he remembered the black truck.
Gerald’s face changed.
He said one word:
“North.”
She waited.
“Truck... north.”
“What happened?”
Gerald struggled.
“Door.”
“What about the door?”
“Open.”
“Was someone there?”
His hand trembled.
“Reg.”
Jory heard later.
The statement was important.
Still limited by neurological injury.
Sandra did not build the case on it alone.
In January, investigators obtained corporate communications showing Vickers had used the black F-350 on multiple dates, including the morning Gerald collapsed.
Vehicle telematics were no longer available.
But fuel-card transactions placed it near the Kier Street area shortly afterward.
Then came an email.
Not a confession.
Something almost more believable.
From Vickers to a Devo Development operations manager, sent August 5:
Will handle Baxter first thing. We need clarity before committee review.
The response:
Do not create another complaint file. Keep it off email after this.
Sandra read that carefully.
The meaning was ambiguous.
“Handle Baxter” could mean negotiation.
“Another complaint file” suggested history.
Investigators dug.
Other property owners appeared.
Not assaulted.
Pressured.
A dry cleaner.
A small warehouse owner.
Gloria.
A retired machinist who said Vickers threatened prolonged permit trouble if he refused access.
Pattern.
Clare’s word.
Patterns are harder to dismiss than incidents.
Charges did not appear overnight.
Instead, police arrested Vickers first on allegations related to intimidation and obstruction surrounding witnesses.
That changed everything.
His devices became evidence under judicial authorization.
Messages emerged.
One between Vickers and Devo, written the morning Gerald was found.
Vickers:
Baxter problem became medical. Shop closed today. Do nothing.
Devo: