Because I recognize the man.
Rourke Hale.
Former federal acquisitions specialist.
Fired five years ago for “ethical boundary violations.”
Which is government language for:
He sold his soul to whoever paid the most.
I pull his file.
Private consultant now.
Specializes in“complex property consolidations.”
Which is industry language for:
He goes into small towns and dismantles them quietly.
Parcel by parcel.
Permit by permit.
Debt by debt.
And worse?
He doesn’t work for my mother directly.
He works for plausible deniability.
“Clever,” I murmur.
“Very clever.”
I dig deeper.
Follow the consulting payments.
Track the subcontractor line items.
And finally—
There it is.
The local contact.
A fixer.
A middleman.
A name that makes my jaw tighten.
Tom Weaver.
Lives twenty minutes outside town.
