Vengeance

44 TIMONIUM, MARYLAND

Beth Walters, seated at her desk at the Carver Construction headquarters building, finished printing the last approval form for Mr. Carver just as his pickup truck coasted into his reserved parking space by the front door. The printing had been a last-minute task, since Jack and his wife had returned unexpectantly from their planned two-week vacation in the Ozark Mountains. Something had happened to Jill that had necessitated a trip to the hospital, cutting their trip short.

The portly man with a scruffy beard and his usual attire — worn jeans paired with a long-sleeve button-up dress shirt, plus a pair of boots that likely dated back to the previous century — stopped by the desk of his longtime secretary.

“Welcome back, Jack! I’m sorry to hear about Jill. What happened?”

“Thanks, Beth. A hiking trail got the best of her. Sprained her ankle pretty bad. She ended up in a boot and on painkillers, and we decided she’d be more comfortable at home.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Please give Jill my best.” Beth slid the form into a clipboard, which she handed to Jack. “I’ve got an explosives procurement authorization form for you to sign. The Catoctin Mountain project needed fifty pounds of C-4 and some detonators, which Craig issued a few days ago. He’s already ordered the replacement material. All that’s left is your signature for our records.”

Carver perused the form, but before he signed it, Beth added, “The odd thing is, when one of the foremen on the Catoctin Mountain project stopped by the office yesterday and I asked him what they needed those fancy detonators for, he had no idea about what I was talking about.”

“What kind of detonators?”

“Wireless micro MEMS.”

Carver scratched his beard, reviewing the order form in more detail. “Hmm… Micro MEMS detonators… Who’s the chief engineer?”

“Frank Dougherty.”

“Get him on the line.”

Beth pulled up his number, dialed, and put the call on speakerphone. A man with a baritone voice answered. “Frank here.”

“Hey, Frank, this is Jack. I’ve got an explosives order from your outfit — fifty pounds of C-4 and several dozen wireless micro MEMS detonators. What do you need this for?”

“C-4 and micro detonators? Why would we need that?”

“My thought exactly. That’s not the type of stuff you’d need to blast through those mountains, but I thought maybe you ran into some demolition work. I want to know who placed the order and what for. Check with your foremen and get back to me.”

“Got it. I’ll be back in touch in a bit.”