Another pause, longer this time. “You’ve been misinformed. My interactions with Mountaintop Construction have been minimal and entirely appropriate. My primary work is as an instructor at the Institute.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind explaining why you were arguing with Ronald Vance behind the brewery last week? Something about contract arrangements?”
“I never... Who told you that?” Lisa’s voice had lost its professional veneer. “You’re fishing for information based on gossip and assumptions. I saw the vandalism on the news. Those environmental extremists have been against the project fromday one. You should focus your investigation on them instead of harassing legitimate professionals.”
Henry’s attention sharpened. “I never mentioned what was vandalized.”
A beat of silence. “It was on the news. The educational displays. I have to go,” Lisa said abruptly. “Don’t call me again.”
The line went dead.
Henry reached for the phone again, this time dialing James Porter. The construction magnate answered on the third ring.
“James Porter speaking.”
“Mr. Porter, this is Henry Kincaid with the Forest Service,” Henry began, adopting his most official tone. “I’m calling about the Fate Mountain Nature Center project.”
“Ah, yes,” Porter sounded genuinely surprised. “Terrible business, that vandalism. How can I help the Forest Service?”
“We’re concerned about potential environmental impacts from the delays,” Henry improvised. “Specifically, whether construction scheduling changes might affect wildlife movement patterns.”
“I wouldn’t know the specifics,” Porter replied smoothly. “Vance Construction holds the contract. Though between us, I’m not certain they’ll maintain it much longer given recent... setbacks.”
“You’ve been monitoring the site closely,” Henry observed.
A chuckle. “It’s a project of interest to many developers. We all watch our competition.”
“Including Lisa Mercer? I understand you’ve worked together before.”
A slight hesitation. “Lisa is a talented architect. She still does projects in tandem with her instructional work at the institute. We’ve collaborated on several successful developments. You seem remarkably well-informed about private business discussions, Ranger Kincaid.” Porter’s voice had cooled several degrees. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another call coming in.”
Henry hung up, his suspicions strengthened. Porter hadn’t denied the connection to Lisa, nor his unusual interest in the project. More significantly, he’d positioned himself to benefit from Vance’s failure.
Chapter
Sixteen
Ivy’s diningtable had disappeared beneath stacks of paperwork—soil analysis reports, construction timelines, and security estimates all competing for space with her laptop and half-empty mug of tea. The vandalism at the nature center had created a paperwork monster that she’d been battling for days. Despite the workload, she’d made progress. The institute had approved emergency funding for extensive security cameras, and police were taking the investigation seriously.
Her phone vibrated against the table, sending her heart racing when Henry’s name appeared on the screen. They hadn’t spoken since their argument at the vandalized exhibition space. She stared at his name for two rings before answering.
“Hello?”
“Ivy.” His deep voice rumbled through the phone. “I…” He paused. “I should have called sooner.”
She closed her laptop. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” The firmness in his voice surprised her. “I talked to Maya. I was wrong about a lot of things.”
Ivy’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected such a direct acknowledgment.
“I’ve been looking into Porter and Lisa Mercer,” Henry continued. “Found connections between them going back years. They’ve worked together on multiple projects.”
“You think they’re behind everything?” Ivy asked.
“It fits. I shouldn’t have dismissed your judgment.” His voice lowered, vulnerability evident even through the phone. “I’m not good at admitting when I’m wrong.”
“I noticed,” Ivy replied, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself.
