"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer's voice boomed, "we'd like to recognize a very special friend of our youth baseball program."
Sandra's attention snapped to the figure beside the booth.
"Harrison Blackwood, owner of Blackwood Luxury Custom Homes, has generously donated funds for brand new uniforms and equipment for all our teams. Let's give Mr. Blackwood a big round of applause!"
The crowd erupted in enthusiastic applause. Parents stood, children cheered, and Sandra watched in fascination as Harrison waved with practiced humility, his smile perfect, his posture conveying exactly the right balance of pride and modesty.
"Isn't that wonderful?" Karen clapped excitedly. "These kids have been making do with hand-me-downs for years. So generous of him."
Sandra managed to nod and clap along, but her mind was racing. The man being celebrated as a community benefactor was the same person whose business she suspected of systematic fraud. The uniforms being praised so eagerly might be purchased with laundered money.
"Hey there."
A familiar voice at her shoulder made her turn.
Lia McFarlane settled onto the bleacher beside her. "Just wanted to give you a quick update. I made some calls about typical contractor markups."
Sandra held Lia's gaze. "And?"
"You were right, not that I doubted it." Lia's voice was carefully casual. "I didn’t come up with another builder who marks their subcontractor prices so high. It’s highly unusual."
Sandra felt the pieces clicking into place. "Unusual enough to warrant further investigation?"
"Definitely. Just be careful who you share the information with."
As Harrison Blackwood continued to bask in the crowd's appreciation, Sandra felt something cold settle in her stomach. The community was celebrating him as a hero, completely unaware that their gratitude might be built on a foundation of criminal activity.
She made a decision that surprised her with its boldness. "I'll be right back," she told Emma, who was still deep in conversation with Olivia about book recommendations.
Emma nodded absently, and Sandra slipped down from the bleachers with practiced casualness. She moved through the crowd, timing her approach to intercept Harrison as he finished his photo opportunities.
Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to smile brightly as she approached. This was her chance to get a read on Harrison Blackwood, to see if her suspicions were justified.
"Mr. Blackwood?" Sandra called out, her voice warm with manufactured enthusiasm. "I wanted to thank you personally for your generosity to these kids."
Harrison turned with polished charm, his smile practiced and apparently genuine. Up close, he was even more impressive with blue eyes that seemed to catalog every detail.
"Thank you," he said, extending his hand. "These young people deserve every opportunity we can give them."
"Absolutely. You know, I was thinking that if you ever need backup suppliers for the equipment you order, I know someone local who could help. Keeping business on the Shore is always good for the community."
"That's thoughtful," Harrison replied smoothly, "but my son handles our donations. He's worked with the same Norfolk suppliers for years. They understand exactly what these programs need. Consistency is important in partnerships."
Sandra nodded as though this made perfect sense, even as her mind cataloged the subtle defensiveness in his tone.
"Of course, loyalty is so important in business," she said, maintaining her friendly demeanor. "I'm sure your suppliers appreciate such a reliable client."
"Indeed." Harrison's smile had become slightly fixed, and Sandra sensed he was looking for a polite exit. "Well, I should be going. Thank you for your kind words."
As if summoned by an invisible signal, a black BMW pulled up nearby. Sandra watched with interest as Harry Blackwood emerged from the driver's seat, his gaze moving between his father and her with obvious tension.
"There's my ride," Harrison said, relief barely concealed. "Have a wonderful evening."
Sandra watched the exchange between father and son as Harrison approached the car. Even from a distance, she could see rigid shoulders and the way they avoided direct eye contact. When Harry's gaze found hers across the parking lot, she caught something that made her blood run cold… recognition mixed with barely contained panic.
As the BMW pulled away, Sandra felt a chill that had nothing to do with the evening breeze. She'd confirmed her suspicions about the Norfolk suppliers, but more importantly, she'd putherself directly on Harrison Blackwood's radar. The fear she'd detected in Harry during their office meeting was nothing compared to the tension she'd just witnessed between father and son.
Whatever they were hiding, her questions were making them nervous. And in Sandra's experience, desperate people made dangerous decisions.
