Langford's expression doesn't change from the comically annoyed deadpan he gives me. "I don't know where you're getting your information, but I can assure you that everything my firm does is above board. We work within the system." He's such a snake in the grass, so self-assured that he thinks he won’t get caught cooking up trouble for innocent people. But I see right through him, and with a little help, I'm gonna take him down. If not completely, at least out of Beaufort.
"Yeah, well… We didn't order a survey team to come onto our land… And I'm pretty sure Emily Carter passed her inspections this year already, yet mysteriously, she's been forced into another round." I walk forward, leaning on the back of a chair that faces his desk. My hands grip the fake leather as I scowl at him.
He shifts forward in his chair and rests his forearms on the desk. "Ms. Carter's building has a ventilation system that hasn't been updated since 2014 and a rear exit that doesn't meet current fire code." His face screws up into an "I told you so" expression and continues. "Not to mention a few plumbing failures and the lack of fire suppression systems… Those are legitimate concerns that any inspector would flag."
"You mean any inspector you sent to flag them."
He smiles, but there's disgust in his eyes. "I think we're done here. You've had your five minutes." So I hit a nerve… Looks like Langford knows that paying off state inspectors is illegal, and maybe I'll find a weak link in his food chain who would confess to that. It'd be a slap on the wrist, and I'd need more dirt to actually take him out, but it would be a start.
"We're not done with this, Langford." I push off the chair and straighten, crossing my arms over my chest.
"It's only a matter of time before those properties are mine." He picks up his earpiece and puts it back in, already dismissing me. "The economics don't lie. Those businesses can't sustain themselves and the owners know it. I'm offering them a way out with money in their pockets. The ones who are smart will take it. The ones who aren't will lose their buildings anyway when the county catches up to decades of deferred maintenance."
"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, buddy," I grumble, knowing if I stay in this office any longer, I'm going to do something I'll regret. I don't know what I thought I'd accomplish by coming here, but clearly, I've failed to do anything except piss him off, and myself. I turn toward the door, annoyed, and hear his phone ring.
But in the hallway, I don't walk away. I linger just outside his door where he can't see me and I listen to what he's saying. What I'm doing is probably just as illegal as what he's doing to pressure business owners in small towns, but if I'm gonna get dirt on him to shut him down, I have to know what he's up to.
"Yeah, I got your message." There's a pause, then, "We already swapped it out. Yeah, cheaper composite… Yes, I know what the plans say."
Sounds like he's speaking to a contractor building something for him. Now there’s a novel thought—Cole and Son's partnering to build shitty hotels for men like this. It makes my stomach turn as I listen to him go on.
"Because the invoice still reflects the original spec, and that's the point." There's another pause, longer this time, and I’m starting to get the gist of what he's talking about. "Look, I don't ask where the extra goes. I just build it… Now get the work done andmake the numbers look good. Got it? And stop questioning my methods."
He laughs at something the other person says and the conversation shifts to scheduling after that, dates and site visits and permits. I've heard enough. Someone is pocketing the difference between what the client pays for and what actually goes into the build. Langford has no idea I just heard his admission. The problem is I was eavesdropping, and even if I had a recording device to prove it to anyone anywhere, there’s not much I can do. Not admissible in court.
I take the elevator down and walk past the receptionist without even looking at her. I'm fuming mad. The whole thing is starting to make more sense to me by the minute. Not only is Langford not even slightly interested in how his shoddy materials and mass-produced buildings will hold up for the city, but he's gonna drive out honest people who need their businesses to earn a living to erect them. This is bullshit.
I head to my car and climb in, pulling out onto the highway headed south before I decide I need to talk to Kyle again and see if he's dug anything up. I dial his number and the truck connects to hands-free.
"Hey, buddy, what's up, man?" Kyle sounds more relaxed today, in a bit better mood. He's running down his leave clock, but I hope he's still doing what I asked.
"Yeah, Kyle, I'm good… Look, I wanted to know if you'd looked into that guy I told you about. I have a feeling something bad's going down." My head is pounding—stress headache. I haven't been able to shake it for days now.
"His firm's clean on the surface," Kyle says. "It's registered in Delaware, which is standard for LLCs. He's got a partner listed named Dennis Pratt, but the guy doesn't show up anywhere else. There's no LinkedIn, no other business registrations, no property in his name."
"That sounds fishy… like a shell company or something." The sun is bright too, trying to murder my eyes. I wish I'd brought my sunglasses to make this drive south into the afternoon sun easier.
"You're not wrong, Jax. I'm running Pratt through a few databases to see if the name connects to anything real, but it could be a front or a silent investor who doesn't want his name attached to anything public." Kyle sighs and says, "I need another couple of days.”
Another couple of days isn't what I wanted to hear, but we have a bit of time yet. I'd rather have something solid that takes a while than to launch an assault with no backup.
"I need you to look into something else," I say, switching lanes to pass a truck hauling lumber. "Langford is swapping building materials on his projects, using cheaper composite and billing for the original spec. I heard him say it on a phone call today." Wind buffets the truck, beating me around as I overtake a semi then pull in front of him.
"Woah, yeah. I've heard of construction places doing that… No bueno." I hear him typing and then he says, "Did you write it down? I mean… get a recording of it?"
"I will… And no. I didn't record it." I'm kicking myself for not just getting my phone out to record, but I know cops can't use shit like that, anyway.
"Well, journaling helps… I'll get started, see what Langford's been doing with his money. If he really has been doing that, it's a felony fraud charge, so you could potentially get him out of your hair for good."
That sounds incredible, and it makes me feel hopeful that this whole mess with Langford could be over more quickly than anyone hoped. "How long will it take you to snoop around a bit?" I turn toward highway 16 toward Beaufort and already start to feel better.
"A few weeks… Depends on how busy shit gets on base. But don’t go doing anything stupid, man. You know you'll just get in trouble." Kyle chuckles, and I grin.
"When have I ever done anything stupid?"
"You want that list chronological or alphabetical?"
"Sheesh," I mumble as he hangs up.
