Vin leans back slightly, arms folded. “Their operation has effectively stalled. Alton and his son were the decision-makers, and now that they’ve disappeared, so too has business. Everything else was held together by personal relationships, not systems like we have in place.”
Wells nods. “Their Baton Rouge contracts are already destabilizing. Vendors are calling around, trying to figure out who still has the authority to sign off.”
“Any continuity?” I ask.
“Not really,” Wells says. “They were small with no redundancy or any real compliance structure. Once leadership disappeared, the rest unraveled fast.”
Vin taps the table once with a measured movement. “That gives us a choice. We can make ourselves available, or we can let the uncertainty run its course.”
“And the risk?” I ask.
“High, if we move too fast,” Vin says. “Anything tied to them is starting to draw attention. Regulators, insurers, port authorities—everyone’s asking questions.”
Wells nods. “There’s reputational risk by proximity. Their channels were sloppy. Even the legitimate contracts are tangled up with things we don’t want anywhere near our books.”
I lean back, thinking it through.
“So we watch,” I say finally. “We don’t touch anything that isn’t clean. If something shakes loose, whether it be equipment, a lease, or a contract that passes inspection, we only evaluate it and make a call on a case-by-case scenario. Otherwise, we let the situation resolve itself.”
“That’s the smart play,” Wells says, already typing notes. “Time and distance do the work for us.”
Vin gives a small nod. “And in the meantime, anyone trying to fill that vacuum will expose themselves.”
“Exactly,” I say. “We stay where we are. Stable. Predictable. Let everyone else panic.”
The decision settles into the room, quiet but firm.
“Now,” I say, shifting gears, “let’s talk about Tripp.”
Vin leans back, arms folding across his chest. Wells stills beside him, his attention sharpening.
“There’s been a development,” Vin says.
I hold his gaze. “Go on.”
“He’s dead.”
The words land. I don’t react. I lean back instead, fingers steepled beneath my chin.
“How?”
“I went to see him,” Vin says calmly. “He’d been isolated pending review. Restricted access, no phone, no systems. He was spiraling.”
That tracks.
“He was agitated,” Vin continues. “Said he didn’t want to be caught between us and the Duvalls. He kept pushing for assurances I couldn’t give him.”
“And?”
“I told him he was being removed permanently from operations until we verified scope. That there was no timeline. No return to rotation.”
Wells shifts slightly.
Vin doesn’t look at him. “That’s when he broke. Tried to bolt. Grabbed for me when I blocked him.”
I let the silence stretch.
“You’re telling me a man under monitoring decided to make a run for it?”
