Arthur walked toward his truck with a plastic clipboard under his arm, his heavy work jacket open over his silver tie bar.

He stopped ten feet short of his driver’s door when Nathaniel stepped out from behind a tall rack of stacked four-by-fours.

Nathaniel held a thick white envelope marked with red certified tracking tape in his left hand.

In his right hand he held his cell phone flat at chest height, its camera recording the gravel lot between them.

“This is formal service of notice for a full sub-tier payroll audit on Project Four,” Nathaniel said, taking two deliberate steps forward.

Arthur let out a loud, booming laugh that cut off suddenly when he looked at the phone screen.