We Found The Loose Bolts And The Money Behind His Story

"He paid himself to buy me out?" I asked Mara.

"That's what his transfer record shows. We still need to answer the claim with records, not jokes."

I sent her my personal account statements. No $5,500 payment had reached me. Then I found the messages from January, when Darren had first asked about buying a share.

What would half cost? he had written.

I had answered, We can discuss a price after repair season. Nothing changes unless we both sign a new agreement.

His reply had been a thumbs-up.

There was no new agreement.

Mara asked for the full message file, with dates, rather than a cropped picture. I exported it and kept the phone untouched.

At nine Thursday morning, we gathered at the dock for the court-approved inspection. Soraya came with her camera. A marine surveyor named Ben Alder carried a flashlight and a small hammer. Mara brought a copy of the order.

Darren opened the gate three minutes late.

"Try not to sink anything while you're proving a point."

Ben looked at the barge.

"Nobody's towing until I finish."

I stepped onto the deck and knew at once that someone had moved my white cup. It sat on Darren's bench beside a heap of mixed screws.

I emptied it into my palm. Four brass tacks fell out.

"Those came from a customer's canoe," I said.

"They're tacks," Darren said. "Buy more."

I put them in a paper envelope and wrote where I had found them. June's bow canvas had been lifted during work. I would check the tack line before it went back on the water.

Soraya photographed the steam box mounts. Ben checked the deck below them. The loose bolts had let the long box shift and split one mounting block.

"Repairable here," he said. "But it has to be secured before movement. Boiler drained. Power disconnected by someone qualified. Nothing left loose."

He inspected the hull and the lines. The barge had no engine. A tow crew would need to move it through the sheltered river route to a new berth.

"Weather decides the hour," he said. "A court order doesn't flatten the water."

That was the first sentence all week that made me smile.

We checked every canoe against its intake number. June's bow scrape had cut through the finish and into the wood. Two shore-rack boats had wet leaves inside them. Another rested with one gunwale bearing all its weight.

The replacement rib I had carried home Monday lay wrapped in my truck. I brought it aboard and held it against June's broken one. My thumb followed the old curve, then the new. The fit was right. Even with Darren talking behind me, my hands knew the work. I tagged the rib with her boat number and stored it flat.

I wanted to fix each thing at once.

Instead, I held the ruler while Soraya took photographs.

"We'll request permission to put the shore boats aboard for the move," Mara said. "For now, the order allows protective steps here."

We cleared the leaves, drained the water, added pads, and tied the boats securely. Ben recorded the added load in his plan.

Darren followed us with his phone held high.

"Taking inventory of my business. Nice."

"Please include this side," Soraya said, turning the numbered sheet toward his camera. "So your recording shows which boat is which."

He lowered the phone.

Under his bench, I found a cardboard box marked OFFICE. My customer receipt book was inside. So were printouts of invoices he had sent after locking me out.

He had asked three owners to pay their final balances directly to him.

I could feel my face getting hot.

"Photograph them in place," Mara said quietly.

We did. Then Darren's lawyer, present by phone, agreed that I could take copies of the shared customer records.

None of those three owners had paid. Their replies to my calls had stopped that.

At noon, Ben gave us a written list of work required before towing. I called a licensed electrician and a tow operator. The tow quote was $950. A repair yard farther upriver offered a berth for $360 a month, with shore access and a crane nearby.

I paid $186 for the required transit coverage after my insurer approved the arrangement.

"Does that mean the missing money is covered?" I asked Soraya.

"No. Those are separate questions. Keep pursuing recovery through your lawyer."

No easy check was coming. I used the rest of my reserve to hold the tow slot.

We left the shop secured under the inspection terms. I carried copies, measurements, and the four brass tacks.

That afternoon, Mara's office received Darren's new sworn statement. He had accepted that the title bore my name, but now said the barge could not leave without harming his dock.

Attached was his latest photograph.

He had stretched a heavy chain across the only water opening out of the slip.