The Sunken Luxury SUV Beyond The Blackwood Cutoff Fence
CHAPTER 4: THE SURVEYOR’S SEAL
Hannah didn’t waste a breath. “Dad, the state route is down to one lane because of a mudslide near the bypass. If we take your truck, we won’t make it to the administrative complex before five.”
“We aren’t taking the truck,” Silas said. He looked at Deputy Briggs. “Earl, did the planning commission officially post the public hearing docket forty-eight hours in advance as required under the Virginia Open Meetings Act?”
Briggs took off his hat, wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, and shook his head. “They posted it at twelve noon today under the emergency public health exemption. Claimed an unstable sinkhole was threatening the state school bus route. But that exemption only holds water if the zoning administrator files a certified engineering affidavit signed by an independent licensed surveyor.”
“Warren Pike doesn’t have an independent surveyor,” Hannah said, scrolling through her digital documents. “He used Arthur Pendelton. Pendelton was censured two years ago by the state licensing board for certifying fraudulent wetland boundaries in Rockingham County.”
“And Pendelton’s signature is on the papers Vance left floating in that floorboard,” Silas added.
Deputy Briggs looked down at the submerged vehicle. The water inside had reached the center console, but the black leather briefcase was still wedged against the transmission tunnel, floating like a raft in the foul black mire.
“Earl,” Silas said quietly. “As county sheriff’s deputy, you have the statutory authority to secure evidence from an abandoned motor vehicle involved in a hazardous chemical discharge on a public right-of-way.”
Briggs smiled a slow, dangerous smile. He walked over to his cruiser, pulled a pair of heavy rubber boots and a telescoping recovery pole from the trunk, and walked down the slick embankment. With two deft movements, he snagged the briefcase handle with the pole’s hook and lifted it clear of the muck.
The lock was already unlatched. Briggs set the case on the cruiser’s hood and popped the catches.
Inside, protected by a waterproof vinyl lining, were three thick folders. The first contained the emergency condemnation petition for Silas’s farm. The second contained a series of high-resolution architectural renderings showing the Highland Meadows clubhouse, complete with an expansive banquet terrace located precisely where Silas’s hay barn currently stood.
The third folder contained a private operating agreement for a limited liability company called Blue Ridge Development Partners.
Hannah gasped as she leaned over the hood. “Look at the ownership schedule.”
Silas looked where her finger pointed. Forty percent of the equity belonged to Julian Vance. Another forty percent belonged to an offshore investment fund.
The remaining twenty percent was assigned to a blind trust whose sole designated beneficiary was Warren Pike, Zoning Administrator of Augusta County.
“That’s not just a conflict of interest,” Deputy Briggs said, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the cruiser’s push-bar. “That’s felony honest-services fraud and extortion under state penal code.”
Briggs looked at his watch. 4:34 PM.
“Silas, Hannah, get in the back of the cruiser,” Briggs commanded, opening the rear doors. “We’re running code three into Staunton.”
“What about the tractor?” Silas asked.
“The tractor isn’t going anywhere,” Briggs said. “And neither is Mr. Vance’s Range Rover. Let the mud have it.”
Thirty seconds later, the cruiser’s siren wailed into the darkening sky, its tires throwing rooster tails of spray as Briggs floored the patrol car down the Blackwood Cutoff, taking the curves at fifty miles an hour.
The drive into town was a blur of flashing emergency lights, sweeping windshield wipers, and the crackle of the police radio. Deputy Briggs keyed his microphone, bypassing the local county dispatcher and dialing directly into the duty desk of the Virginia State Police Bureau of Criminal Investigation in Culpeper.
“Special Agent Miller,” Briggs said into the handset. “This is Deputy Briggs, Unit 14, Augusta County. I am currently in possession of primary documentary evidence documenting commercial bribery and fraudulent land condemnation involving a county executive officer. I need an active supervisory warrant and state investigator presence at the Augusta County Government Center on Johnson Street immediately.”
The radio hummed with static before a crisp voice responded: “Unit 14, we have two state units five minutes out from the courthouse on an unrelated detail. They are being diverted to your location now. Secure the perimeter.”
As the cruiser roared over the railroad overpass into historic downtown Staunton, the clock on the dashboard read 4:52 PM. The grand stone facade of the Augusta County Government Center loomed through the rain, its marble steps slick under the streetlamps.
Parked illegally in the red handicap zone directly in front of the main entrance was the excavation contractor’s pickup. Julian Vance had already gone inside.
