Daniel's expression hardened.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I wasn't willing to describe a project I hadn't been given enough information to evaluate.”
“Did he ask you to change your emails?”
“No. He asked if I could clarify the original scope. I told him the emails spoke for themselves.”
“Did he say why he needed that clarification?”
Michael hesitated.
“He said there was concern that the project was being misunderstood by people who didn't have technical backgrounds.”
Daniel looked at the map again.
“Did he know we'd found the old engineering memorandum?”
“I don't know. He didn't mention it.”
“Did you tell him about the access covers?”
“No.”
“Good. Let Laura know about the call. Don't speculate about why he made it.”
Michael nodded.
“I already wrote down the time and what I remember him saying.”
After Michael left, Daniel sat alone for several minutes.
He had spent years building a company around the principle that good work began with honest information. If a client could not provide plans, his team asked questions. If a site contained unknown utilities, they did not simply dig and hope for the best. If a customer demanded a shortcut that could endanger workers or damage neighboring property, they declined the job.
Those rules had sometimes cost him contracts.
They had also kept his employees safe.
He wondered how many other contractors had received similar proposals from Westbridge. Had they refused as Michael had? Had anyone accepted? If another company had conducted preliminary work, its records might explain the discrepancy between the old plans and the physical location of the access covers.
But he had no way to know.
The only responsible course was to ask for records through Laura and the county.
At 3:40 p.m., Laura called him again.
“Westbridge has acknowledged receipt of the notice,” she said. “Their legal department says it is reviewing the requests. They have not provided any permits or easement documents.”
“Have they denied planning a survey?”
“No.”
“Have they confirmed it?”
“No. The response says only that the company is evaluating potential infrastructure improvements in the district.”
“That sounds carefully worded.”
“It is carefully worded. That doesn't make it false. We should not read more into it than the language supports.”
“What about the HOA?”
“Richard sent a separate response. He says the association has authority to inspect exterior conditions under its governing documents.”
“Exterior conditions?”
“Yes. He does not identify any provision authorizing excavation or access to underground municipal infrastructure. I've asked him to cite the exact language he relies upon.”
Daniel let out a breath.
“So he's avoiding the question.”
“Or he hasn't answered it yet. Those are not necessarily the same thing.”
He could almost hear the slight emphasis in her voice.
“Laura, do you ever get tired of making everything sound less dramatic than it feels?”
A short silence followed. Then she laughed softly.
“Every day. But dramatic language doesn't protect you. Evidence does.”
Daniel smiled despite himself.
“Fair enough.”
“There's another development. The county has assigned your submission to an engineer for preliminary review. The engineer may contact us with questions. That's all we know right now.”
“Is there any chance they'll inspect before Thursday?”
“There is a chance. There is no commitment. We should plan as though no inspection will occur until we receive written confirmation.”
That evening, Daniel returned home to find Margaret Ellis waiting near the front gate.
She held a manila envelope in both hands.
“I'm sorry to arrive without calling,” she said. “I didn't want to send these through email until I'd spoken to you.”
“Is everything all right?”
“I believe so. At least for the moment.”
He invited her inside, and they sat at the dining table. Sophie was upstairs, working on her project with music playing quietly in her room.
Margaret opened the envelope.
Inside were copies of letters from the homeowners association, photographs of her backyard, and a folded sheet bearing a hand-drawn sketch of the eastern service road.
“My husband made this years ago,” she said. “He worked for the county water department before he retired. He wasn't an engineer, but he maintained pumps, valves, and drainage equipment. He knew the old service district.”
She placed the sketch beside Daniel's copy of the historical map.
The drawings were not identical. Her husband's sketch was rough, with measurements written in the margins and several locations marked by small crosses. Yet one cross appeared close to the position of Access Point 5.
“Did he know what was underground?” Daniel asked.
“He knew there had been a pumping station. He knew some equipment had been decommissioned. He also knew that decommissioned didn't necessarily mean removed.”