I Signed The Evidence Receipt As Rusk Lost His Keys

I carried Wren's pod into the investigator's office in the same case that had held my lunch on the morning of the flood.

It seemed wrong that a thing that mattered so much could fit beside a sandwich.

Dana met me at the door. Lila came as a witness. Theo was not there.

"He has a records meeting," Lila said.

She looked at Dana before adding anything else.

That told me it was not the kind of meeting where people brought cookies.

Investigator Leah Wynn checked the bag number against our log. She photographed the seals, signed for the pod, and gave me a copy listing the date, time, and evidence locker number.

"Will they say I changed it?" I asked.

"They can say many things," she said. "That's why you've kept all this."

She pointed to my folder.

I had wanted to keep the pod within reach forever. Handing it over felt like setting a bird loose in a room with no windows.

But holding the original had never meant keeping it from the right review. It meant making sure there was an original to review.

I signed beneath her name.

At the shop that evening, I put the receipt where the pod had rested. The empty space looked strange. I checked the locker number against my copy once, then made myself close the cabinet. There were still lines to inspect, customers to call, and wet cable to clean.

Wynn could not discuss the whole search. Later filings supplied the pieces. Rusk had put $40,000 into Alder Bend through a private agreement. Brent held sixty-five percent. Rusk held the rest.

The agreement named the eight houses as the first purchase project.

A payment of $9,000 had gone to Rusk two days before the flood. The ledger called it a consulting advance. A message between the men called it his share for "getting the row ready."

On its own, even that could invite an argument.

With the truck, the load ticket, the false report, and the offers, it had weight.

The same day, Rusk was placed on leave. His city keys and badge were collected. The purchasing office sent a notice barring him from contacting vendors about the investigation.

I read it twice before calling Theo.

He answered on the fifth ring.

"Are you okay?"

"Define okay."

"Have you eaten?"

"That is easier. No."

I bought two chicken sandwiches and met him at a picnic table near his office. He lined the wrappers up with the table slats.

"Rusk complained that I shared restricted files," he said.

"You used the records officer."

"Yes. They're checking that."

"Then show them."

"I did. Forty-two pages."

He took a bite and chewed without looking at me.

"He also asked me to replace an old route entry," he said. "Before your complaint. Said the first one was confusing."

"Did you?"

His head came up.

"I preserved both versions."

"I know. Sorry."

He nodded once and went back to his sandwich.

The older entry showed Rusk reserving the channel access lane before dawn. The replacement described a visit after the flood. Theo had saved the request, the old entry, and the new one under the normal change log.

Rusk had complained about the one habit that made his request visible.

"I should've raised it sooner," Theo said.

"You called me the day you saw his report."

"I could have asked more before that."

I had no easy answer. Neither of us got to know everything in time.

We ate while traffic moved beyond the trees. He asked how Wren was doing, then looked embarrassed for asking about a machine like a pet.

"New screen is $720," I said. "She'll live."

"Good."

This time he had not prepared the sentence. I could tell.

By August, the prosecutor had filed charges against Rusk and Brent over the dumping, the false record, and the plan to obtain houses through fraud. Both men pleaded not guilty at their first appearance.

The city removed the load and paid for a temporary open channel while it planned a wider crossing. June moved back into two safe rooms. Bean stopped sleeping in the laundry basket.

My invoice remained unpaid. The accusation remained on the vendor record with a note that it was disputed.

Evidence did not move at the speed of rent.

I made the loan payment from my emergency fund and kept working.

Then Dana forwarded a court filing from Rusk's lawyer. He wanted the robot footage kept out of the case.

His reason was printed on the second page: broken equipment, uncertain time, and an owner with a financial motive to lie.