Page 107 of Unconventional


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“No more anything,” I shrugged, piling it on. “I guess that’s it, then. Pack it in boys, the inspector’s right. Maybe we should’ve—”

“Alright, already” a secondary voice said loudly from the gatehouse doorway. “I’ve seen enough.”

A man stepped out, shaking his head in disgust. Rubbing the hem of his shirt on his wire-rimmed glasses, as he walked straight up to Thomas Burrell… who was already looking very pale as the blood drained away from his face.

“Give me that,” inspector Sinclair sneered, swiping the clipboard from Burrell’s hand. He scanned it quickly, his face going even more sour. “Thomas, what in fuck’s sake is this?”

Burrell was shaking now. Not just trembling either, but visibly shaking.

“It—It’s a punch sheet,” he said defensively. “The overall requirements for this property, in order to mainta—”

“In order to maintain historical status,” snapped Sinclair. “Yes, I get that. I work in the same department as you, remember? I’m also above you, unless you’ve forgotten that too.”

“Y—Yes,” Burrell said quickly. “I mean no.”

Inspector Sinclair flipped rapidly through the clipboard. With each passing sheet, his eyebrows grew closer together.

“You’ve been adding things,” Sinclair growled. “Not just one or two things, but several.”

“I can do that,” Burrell said defensively. “It’s well within the scope of my—”

“Not to the original contractual agreement you can’t,” Sinclair cut him off. “You can add suggestive work. Make notes on how future projects should be done, in order to obtain proper permits. But Thomas…” He looked up at his fellow employee and shook the clipboard. “Have you been telling these people that all this extraneous bullshit you’ve added are required changes?”

Burrell stood frozen in front of the gatehouse, unable to move. His expression looked like he’d swallowed something terrible.

“Yes, Thomas,” I needled him. “Have you been adding these things without telling us they’re optional?”

Noah coughed. Chase whistled low and shook his head. “Tsk. Tsk.”

“I’ve been here all morning!” Sinclair barked into Burrell’s face. “The work here is exemplary. These people have gone above and beyond — well past Travis Lockhart’s original specifications — to put this place right again.”

He shoved the clipboard so hard into the other inspector’s chest it nearly knocked him over. Burrell looked like he was about to cry.

“They’re finished here, as far as I’m concerned,” said Sinclair. “Inspections are done. I passed them this morning — flying colors.”

A look of extreme pain crossed Thomas Burrell’s face. But also, bitter defeat.

“You’ll be explaining to the Inspector General why you harassed these people,” Sinclair added. “And also, why I had to wait here several hours before you finally showed up.” He looked back at me and threw me a hidden wink. “You’re very lucky that at least they had good coffee.”

Sinclair jotted a few notes of his own, while Thomas Burrell stood like a chastised child waiting to be dismissed. He had his beard pinned to

his chest. His eyes on his feet, as I inched to within a foot or so behind him.

“Your friends sold you out,” I hissed, just loud enough for him to hear. “Edgar. Jonathan. The truck you sent to steal our supplies… they told us everything.”

Julian moved to stand beside me. In a deeper hiss, he added: “And we do mean everything.”

Burrell didn’t even flinch at the words. If there was any fight left in the man, it sure wasn’t in his body language. His shoulders remained slumped, his knees buckled. Finally Sinclair looked up from what he was doing and pointed his pencil at him.

“You’re still here?” he sneered. He waved his hand dismissively. “You can piss off.”

Thomas Burrell edged slowly away without a word. He didn’t look back.

“Straight back to my office by the way,” Sinclair called after him loudly. “And nowhere else.”

He waited until the man had driven off, and his vehicle was nothing but a plume of dust on the horizon. Then the inspector turned back to us, with another look of apology.

“On behalf of Midlothian county,” he said, “I’m terribly sorry for this whole mess. When they told me Burrell would be helping lighten my caseload, I had no idea he’d be—”

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