Lyle Brock began the interview by accusing Lyra of wasting a working morning.
A woman in his yard looked up from a tool chest.
“You waste most of ours.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“Thought you needed another reference.”
Lyra waited until they finished glaring at each other.
The distinctive cutter came from Brock’s contracted stock. His crew had authorized access near the fresh bypass damage. The mark comparison was strong enough to investigate.
His reputation had supplied the rest before anyone asked him a question.
