Natalie leaned closer.
“What is that?”
Blake stopped breathing.
One of his friends frowned.
“Dude?”
Ethan enlarged the image.
The envelope Blake was holding bore a printed logo.
CITY OF MIAMI BUILDING SAFETY DIVISION.
Blake’s face drained of color.
He reached for the phone.
“Put that away.”
Ethan moved it beyond his reach.
Natalie stared at Blake.
“Why are you in that picture?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Then why do you look terrified?”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
The people surrounding them had gone silent.
Ethan swiped.
A second photograph appeared.
Same garage.
Same night.
Blake handing the envelope to another man.
This time the other man’s face was visible.
Several guests recognized him.
Someone whispered the name.
“Jesus. That’s Calvin Ross.”
Calvin Ross was a senior municipal building inspector.
Three weeks earlier, Ross had abruptly resigned after reporters began asking questions about irregular safety approvals connected to several waterfront projects.
Including Meridian Point.
Natalie looked from the photograph to Blake.
“What did you give him?”
Blake’s jaw clenched.
“Nothing.”
Ethan spoke.
“Twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Blake spun toward him.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Actually, I do.”
“You’re lying.”
Ethan swiped again.
This image showed the envelope open.
Bundles of cash inside.
A timestamp matched the previous photographs.
The whispers spread.
Blake’s friends took half-steps backward.
Natalie did not move.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Why would you pay a building inspector?”
Blake looked around.
Too many faces.
Too many phones.
Too many witnesses.
He forced a laugh.
“This is ridiculous. Anyone can fake photographs now.”
Ethan nodded.
“That’s true.”
Blake seized the opening.
“There. Exactly.”
“Which is why I brought the original memory card.”
The laugh died.
Ethan reached into his other pocket and removed a small clear evidence sleeve.
Inside was a memory card.
Blake stared at it as though Ethan were holding a loaded weapon.
“Where did you get that?”
Ethan’s eyes hardened.
“Now you’re asking the right question.”
Blake stepped closer.
“Who are you?”
Ethan did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked toward Meridian Point.
The unfinished towers stood against the night, illuminated by construction lights.
Then he said:
“My younger brother worked on Tower Two.”
Blake’s expression changed.
Just slightly.
But Ethan saw it.
So did Natalie.
Ethan continued.
“His name was Daniel Cole.”
Nobody laughed now.
“Six months ago, Daniel was working on the twenty-fourth floor when a temporary support assembly failed.”
Natalie’s hand rose slowly to her mouth.
She remembered the news.
Everyone in Miami did.
Three construction workers had fallen twenty-four stories.
All three died.
The company called it a tragic accident.
Ethan looked directly at Blake.
“My brother was twenty-eight.”
Blake swallowed.
“I’m sorry about your brother, but that has nothing to do with me.”
“It has everything to do with you.”
“No.”
“The support system failed inspection twice.”
Blake shook his head.
“No, it didn’t.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not what the report said.”
Ethan’s expression became colder.
“I know.”
Blake stopped.
Ethan swiped again.
A photograph of a document appeared.
FAILED.
Written across the inspection form in red.
Beneath it were notes identifying faulty anchor points and substandard fasteners.
The date was eleven days before the collapse.
Ethan showed another image.
A second failed report.
Then a third image.
The same report, altered.
PASSED.
Natalie turned slowly toward Blake.
“No.”
Blake’s voice became sharp.
“Those could be anything.”
Ethan said, “Daniel found copies.”
Blake froze.
“My brother knew something was wrong. He photographed the paperwork because he didn’t trust management.”
“That proves nothing.”
