“If I file these emergency sub-tier audit demands with the county clerk before lunch, Arthur gets forty-eight hours to produce his master payroll ledgers,” Brenda said, tapping her glasses on her clipboard.

“He’ll freeze every active job site we share the moment he gets the clerk’s official notice.”

Nathaniel laid the green carbon duplicate book right beside the Project Four structural framing plans.

“We’re done asking Arthur for permission to see our own records.”

Brenda’s red pen stopped above the mailing slip.

She reached over and flipped back three pages in the carbon book, studying the original pencil strokes Arthur had left behind in the diner’s storage room.

“He billed our main account forty-two dollars an hour for Martha’s specialist drywall work,” Brenda said softly, checking the numbers against her laptop.