“The yard stays open,” I said.

“We have three mixer trucks low on diesel right now,” Frank said.

“Without forty-two hundred dollars in working cash, we can’t put a crew on site.”

“The trust account will release working capital on Monday,” I said.

A heavy knock rattled the glass pane of the office door before Frank could answer.

Frank opened the door, and a process courier in a wet neon orange jacket stepped into the trailer carrying a stiff manila envelope.

“Avery Sterling?” the courier asked, holding out a digital signature pad.