Snake was drawn twice his actual width.
He complained.
She refused to change it.
Marcus taped the picture behind the bar.
Elena noticed.
"You don't have to humor her."
"I'm not."
"Marcus."
He looked at the drawing.
"Place needed art."
Meanwhile, Detective Patel's investigation hit resistance.
Harmon Development's lawyers claimed Anthony had been inspecting the motorcycle because he thought it belonged to someone he knew.
Security footage contradicted that explanation.
Anthony denied cutting the brake line.
His attorney suggested the line might have been previously damaged.
Forensic analysis found fresh tool marks.
The case strengthened.
Then Anthony's phone records became unavailable due to what Harmon called a device replacement.
Patel obtained a warrant.
The previous phone was supposedly lost.
Marcus was not surprised.
Flash was furious.
"They're erasing everything."
"Probably."
"We could recover..."
"No."
"I know a guy."
"No."
Flash slammed the laptop shut.
"You realize they're going to bury this."
Marcus looked at him.
"Then we make it too heavy to bury."
The phrase became their strategy.
Not one illegal shortcut.
One hundred legal facts.
They filed public-records requests.
Property transfers.
Inspection histories.
Campaign contributions.
Workplace injury reports.
Civil lawsuits.
Corporate filings.
City council meeting minutes.
The deeper they looked, the worse Harmon appeared.
Harmon had acquired twenty-seven properties in four years.
Fourteen had generated complaints before sale.
Nine former owners claimed harassment.
Six tenants' groups had accused the company of retaliatory eviction.
A city inspector named David Chen had issued a stop-work order on a Harmon project eighteen months earlier.
Two days later, he died in a hit-and-run.
The case remained unsolved.
An environmental consultant named Sarah Jennings had prepared a report alleging illegal waste disposal.
She died from what was ruled a sudden cardiac event three weeks later.
She was thirty-two.
Marcus stared at that record for a long time.
"People have heart attacks."
Flash nodded.
"They do."
"So don't make it something it isn't."
"I didn't."
"What aren't you saying?"
Flash pulled another document.
"Her report disappeared."
"From where?"
"City environmental archive."
"Could be clerical."
"Her fiancé kept a copy."
Marcus looked up.
"What does it say?"
"Illegal solvents. Groundwater contamination. Enough to shut the project down."
Marcus leaned back.
Coincidences were piling up.
Then Diesel found Ramon Ortiz.
Ramon had been a steelworker on a Harmon high-rise.
Eighteen months earlier, a crane load shifted unexpectedly and dropped several tons of material into a restricted zone.
Ramon died instantly.
The official report blamed operator error.
The crane operator, Victor Mendoza, disappeared six days later.
His family believed he had fled the country.
Diesel contacted Ramon's widow, Teresa Ortiz.
She agreed to meet only after Elena came with him.
Teresa lived in a small duplex with two children.
Family photographs covered the walls.
Ramon smiled from nearly every one.
At birthdays.
At a lake.
In a hard hat.
Holding his son after a Little League game.
Teresa placed a box on the kitchen table.
"My lawyer told me to throw this away."
"Why?" Diesel asked.
"Because every time we fought them, it cost money."
She opened the box.
Inside were letters.
Safety complaints.
Photographs.
Copies of text messages.
Ramon had documented defective crane components two weeks before his death.
He had also written an email to a supervisor saying he intended to contact OSHA.
The next day, a manager called him into a meeting.
Teresa still had the notes Ramon wrote afterward.
THEY TOLD ME TO STAY IN MY LANE.
Marcus read the sentence twice.
"Did anyone threaten him directly?"