I stopped beside the oil drum by the bay door.

“Did you see her take the certified mail off my desk in March?”

“I saw her pick the court envelopes right up off your blotter before you ever got to the building,” Dale said.

“She dropped them in her tote bag and walked out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me three months ago?” I asked.

“I was scared to death of losing my pension, Garrett,” Dale said.

“But watching them march you out of the building you built makes me sick.”