He changed tracks rapidly. "High school's on break until January, right?"
"Remotelearning until then. Tash has a full syllabus for both girls. No need to send them to campus until we're sure Fifi can walk the halls without catching fire."
He snorted. "Good luck with teenagers. Hormones and magic don't mix. If you need a favor with the school, I'm owed a few. We can fake a medical file for the allergy if it helps."
"Appreciate it."
Lunch went easy after that. I finished the pie; he paid the bill before I had a shot at it. Connie refilled our coffee once, then let us be.
On his way out, Xavier stood, straightened his jacket, and clapped me so hard on the shoulder I nearly spilled five fries.
He winked. "I look forward to meeting all three of them. Family's weird, but it's what we've got."
Then he was gone, out the door, into the cold as he made for his cruiser.
I lingered, pulling a couple twenties from my wallet and left them on the table, tip fat enough to cover the next three servers who called me "Chancey."
Enough time to see Tash and the girls for a few minutes before I headed back to the bakery. Then I turned onto Meyer Lane and ran straight into SkyArc's idea of a parking lot apocalypse.
Three of their trucks blocked the side road I normally took to my house. Not even tight to the edge, either. Dead center, spaced like dominoes, their tailgates down. A flatbed hauled a portable security office, with two guys in matching vests perched on the steps, sipping coffee. Farther up, a cherry picker idled, engine ticking. A work van had half its doors open, tool cases spewing out across the gravel like someone got paid by the inch of mess.
If Caden could've rolled his eyes, he would have. Instead, he bristled.Move them.
I killed the engine and got out. There wasn't any way a normal car could squeeze past, not with the road full like this, so I left the truck on the shoulder. There was no way I was getting past them quickly, so I strolled, inspecting what they were doing.
Every twenty steps or so, another marker popped out of the ground. Survey flags, plastic fencing, and at one point, an empty Red Bull can crammed artfully into the fork of a young crabapple tree.
Put together, it all screamed, "We do what we want."
The closer I got to the creek that ran parallel to the road, the more obvious it became. They were swarming it. All the workers were near the water,where the bank leveled off for maybe thirty feet, and the stand of willows shielded the far bend.
One of Tash's sampling sites. And it was crawling with SkyArc.
Two guys knelt by the edge, both with knees buried in the muck. They had little silver disks, motion sensors, I realized, and were jamming them into the soft soil every few feet. Every so often, one would stand, wipe his hands on his vest, and shoot a glance up at the tree line, as if someone might be watching.
Somebody was. But not who they probably expected.
Farther down, the cherry picker had been put to use. Security cams, brand new, all black plastic and evil intent, were lashed to metal poles, aimed dead at the creek. Wires looped like licorice ropes down the trees, strung to a junction box. They'd even set up a small solar array for power. Overkill, unless you wanted round-the-clock feed.
I didn't bother trying to blend. I just marched right up, boots biting in with every step. I squared my shoulders and made sure every SkyArc flunky saw me coming.
That's when William Hanlon peeled himself off the shadow of a truckand came striding over.
Tablet. Aviators. The world's most punchable grin. He saw me and smirked. "Mr. Meyer. Didn't expect to see you today. Here to check out the upgrades?" He pitched his voice fake-friendly, but I caught the assessment. He was sizing me up, every inch.
I ignored the handshake he angled at me. "What's with the cameras? You're less than ten feet from my property line."
He tsked, as if disappointed I hadn't come for a tour. "Standard practice for site safety, especially near open water. Lotta liability with contractors on unfamiliar ground. Cameras and sensors cut our insurance rates."
I gestured. "Then why are all the cameras pointed at the creek, and not the build site? Are you expecting an attack of river monsters?"
One of the grunt workers snorted but shut up when William glared his way.
Then he scribbled something on his tablet, all slow and measured. "Construction starts next month. With the holidays, everything got backlogged, but once the land dries up, we'll be working right here. Gotta prep in advance."
Bullshit. I'd seen their plans. The cabins were going on the ridge and away from my property, nothere into the floodplain. The only thing worth watching here was the creek. Or, more specifically, whoever happened to be working in it.
I went for the direct hit. "Who cleared doing this? The owner never gave me a heads-up, and these lines are right on the property boundary."
