The concrete wall.
The side door.
She photographed everything.
Then she asked Jory to walk her through that morning using only what she knew firsthand.
Not what she suspected.
That instruction mattered.
Jory told her.
Gerald arrived before seven most days.
Parts driver found him.
Emergency services came.
Hospital diagnosed stroke.
Doctors documented bruising along his left hip and shoulder, along with an abrasion behind one arm.
Those injuries had been attributed to the fall.
Sandra later requested the complete emergency medical file.
A consulting physician reviewed it without being told the theory of the case.
His conclusion did not prove Gerald had been struck by a truck.
But it established something important.
Some of his injuries were difficult to explain solely by a vertical collapse.
That reopened the question.
Investigators interviewed the former Iron Pines body technician.
He remembered the Ford.
Not because of the customer.
Because of the request.
“They wanted it done fast.”
“How fast?”
“Two days.”
“Insurance?”
“No.”
“Collision report?”
“No.”
“Explanation?”
“Hit a steel bollard.”
“Did the damage match?”
The mechanic thought.
“Mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“There was paint transfer.”
“What colour?”
“Gray.”
Baxter’s north access contained several gray-painted steel protective posts.
Sandra did not react when told.
She simply wrote it down.
That was her way.
Jory’s formal interview lasted three hours.
Sandra read the notebooks in front of her.
Page after page.
Offer.
Date.
Call.
Vehicle.
Licence plate.
Conversation.
Follow-up.
At one point she stopped.
“How long have you been documenting?”
“Twenty-three months.”
“You timed some conversations.”
“When I remembered.”
“You wrote down who else was present.”
“Yes.”
“You preserved original letters.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Jory looked at her.
“I didn’t know.”
Sandra waited.
“I just knew the story kept changing depending on who told it.”
Her voice was quiet.
“I wanted one place where it couldn’t change.”
Sandra resumed writing.
By then Devo’s lawyers had launched their public response.
A newspaper article described the dispute as a conflict between a respected developer and people affiliated with a motorcycle club.
Jory’s name was not prominent.
Iron Pines was.
That was intentional.
The implication was easier than an accusation.
Dangerous club.
Intimidation.
Commercial pressure.
Calvin read the story in silence.
Brack read it over his shoulder.
“They made us sound exciting.”
Calvin looked at him.
“We’re not responding.”
“I know.”
“Nobody talks to reporters.”
“I know.”