But the center pool remained.
She measured.
Seventeen inches.
Next day:
Sixteen and three-quarters.
Third:
Sixteen and a half.
Minimal decline.
There had been no rain.
She looked uphill toward the new outlet.
The flow had decreased but not stopped.
Water from the development tract was still entering.
Some appeared connected to groundwater and detention discharge rather than direct storm runoff.
That made the site more hydrologically persistent than Warren assumed.
She called Odell.
He asked:
“How much data?”
“Everything since May.”
“Send all of it.”
“Even the dry points?”
“Especially.”
Two weeks later, Odell returned with a representative from a regional mitigation-bank company named Delta Ecological Holdings.
The name made Warren distrust them immediately.
“Sounds expensive.”
He told Casey.
The representative, Evelyn Hart, was not offended.
“We are expensive.”
“Good.”
Warren said.
“Honest again.”
Evelyn reviewed the site.
Then asked Odell for Casey’s records.
She spent longer reading those than looking at the photographs.
“That’s useful.”
She said.
Casey tried not to look pleased.
Evelyn explained that the acreage showed several encouraging features.
Historical wetness.
Hydric soil indicators.
Restored or reestablished hydrology.
Developing wetland vegetation.
Landscape connection to other aquatic systems.
But formal eligibility would require much more.
There would be delineation.
Baseline ecological assessment.
Hydrologic modeling.
Restoration design.
Agency review.
Legal protection.
Monitoring.
Performance standards.
Credit-release schedules.
And market analysis.
Warren asked:
“How long?”
“Could be years.”
“How much?”
“Depends on structure.”
“How much could it pay?”
Evelyn smiled slightly.
“That is always the third question.”
“It was my first.”
“No.”
“Your first was how long.”
Warren almost smiled.
She continued.
“It can be valuable.”
“Very valuable in some markets.”
“But anybody giving you a giant number before formal evaluation is selling something.”
Warren nodded.
“Good.”
That evening, he looked at Casey’s photographs again.
Cattails.
Shallow water.
Herons.
Young willows beginning on one edge.
He still saw failure.
But not only failure.
That was new.
Then Cornerstone sent the letter.
Formal.
Courteous.
Cold.
The operating loan was out of compliance with projected cash-flow requirements.
The bank requested additional collateral, principal reduction, restructuring, or asset disposition before the next operating cycle.
Failure to cure could result in remedies available under the loan agreement, including foreclosure.
Warren read it once.
Then folded it.
Set it on the table.
Casey asked:
“How long?”
“Sixty days.”
“Can they really foreclose that fast?”
“No.”
“But they can start.”
“Grandpa.”