Thomas paused.
“Daniel, they knew exactly where the cover was.”
“That doesn't necessarily mean they knew what it connected to.”
“I know. I'm not saying it does. But they didn't search around or look at the map for very long. They walked straight to the spot.”
Daniel considered that.
The historical map placed AP-3 close to Thomas's retaining wall. A surveyor using that map could find the general area without knowing what lay beneath it. Still, the crew's familiarity with the location suggested that someone had provided them with information more specific than the incomplete public map.
“Write down everything you remember,” Daniel said. “Include the time, where they stood, what they asked, and what you told them. Don't guess at anything you didn't hear.”
“Laura said the same thing.”
“She's good at that.”
Thomas laughed once, without much humor.
“I'm beginning to understand why.”
By noon, the county had sent Laura an email confirming that the review office was coordinating with public works. The message stated that no county inspection team had been dispatched that morning and that the office was seeking clarification about the private survey activity reported by residents.
It did not say the survey was illegal.
It did not say the survey was authorized.
It simply established that the county had not sent the crew.
Laura forwarded the message to Daniel and asked him to preserve it with the other records.
A second email arrived shortly afterward, this one from Westbridge's legal department.
The company confirmed that it had engaged a licensed surveying firm to perform preliminary surface measurements in the eastern service district. According to the letter, the work was intended to assess the feasibility of future infrastructure improvements and did not include excavation, opening access covers, or entry into privately owned yards.
The company stated that its surveyors had been instructed to remain within areas where they were permitted to work.
It did not identify the precise basis for access to every location.
Laura replied with a request for the survey scope, the contractor's work order, the relevant permit or right-of-way documentation, and any easement Westbridge believed applied to the affected properties.
She also asked whether the company had instructed Richard Harlan or the homeowners association to coordinate with the surveyors.
Westbridge acknowledged the request but did not answer the final question.
Daniel read the letter at his desk.
It was the first direct confirmation that Westbridge had hired the survey firm. It also established an important limit: the company said the crew was not authorized to excavate or open covers during that visit.
The statement did not resolve the historical questions, but it narrowed the immediate issue.
“They came to measure,” Michael said, standing beside Daniel's desk. “They left without digging. That part is clear.”
“What's not clear is what they intend to do after the measurements.”
“Then we wait for the scope.”
Daniel nodded.
He was learning that progress did not always look like a dramatic revelation. Sometimes it was a letter that ruled out one possibility while leaving three others open. Sometimes it was a witness who remembered a conversation precisely. Sometimes it was a survey crew that departed without crossing a fence.
He printed the county's email and placed it in the evidence folder.
Then he added the Westbridge letter.
The folder was growing thick enough that he had started labeling each section: historical records, property documents, correspondence, photographs, witness statements, and police reports. Laura had recommended a chronological index so that any investigator could follow the events without having to reconstruct them from scattered files.
Daniel had never imagined that the ordinary details of his life would one day require such careful organization.
At three o'clock, the school called.
Sophie had complained of a headache and asked to go to the nurse's office. The nurse did not believe it was serious, but she wanted Daniel to collect her because Sophie seemed unusually quiet.
He arrived twenty minutes later.
Sophie was sitting on a bench outside the office, holding her backpack in her lap. When she saw him, she stood immediately.
“I'm okay,” she said before he could ask.
“Your school called because you weren't feeling well.”
“My head hurts a little.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
“Drunk water?”
She nodded.
“Then let's get you home and see how you feel.”
They walked to the car. Daniel waited until they were both inside before asking the question that had been troubling him.
“Did something happen today?”
Sophie stared at the dashboard.
“Not really.”
“Did someone say something to you?”
She did not answer.
Daniel turned toward her.
“Sophie, you're not in trouble. If something happened, you can tell me.”