CHAPTER SEVEN — WHAT CAROL KNEW
Carol met her attorney in a small interview room after sunset.
She had spent the afternoon repeating that she only wanted gasoline for herself.
Her attorney, a patient woman named Alice Wynn, listened until Carol finally stopped talking.
“I can advise you about the property damage charge,” Wynn said.
“But if you’re involved with these blue cards, you need to tell me before investigators bring that information into the room.”
Carol stared at her folded hands.
“I introduced people.”
“For money?”
“Sometimes.”
“How much?”
“Forty dollars per person.”
Wynn wrote it down.
“What did the buyers believe they were purchasing?”
“Emergency protection.”
“What were they actually buying?”
Carol said nothing.
Wynn placed her pen on the table.
“Carol, I can’t help you understand your exposure if you won’t answer the question.
”
Carol breathed out slowly.
“I thought Gavin had an arrangement with the county.”
“What made you think that?”
“He showed me badges and a contract.”
“Did you read the contract?”
“I read enough.”
“What did it say?”
Carol looked away.
“He was helping with a county drill.”
Wynn waited.
“That doesn’t sound like authorization to sell fuel priority.”
“I didn’t know the difference.”
“At some point you did.”
Carol’s eyes filled with angry tears.
“He told me the county would never distribute fuel fairly.”
“And you believed him?”
“I believed people should have a way to protect themselves.”
“By paying you forty dollars to recommend a product?”
Carol slammed her palm onto the table.
“Everybody makes money for doing things.”
Wynn did not flinch.
“There’s a difference between being paid for honest work and being paid to sell a promise you cannot deliver.
”
Carol looked toward the door.
“Why are you more interested in the cards than what Marcus did to me?”
“Because the video appears to show you breaking his window.”
“I didn’t know it was a county truck.”
“Would you have been entitled to break it if it were his personal truck?”
Carol’s silence answered the question.
Wynn leaned forward.
“Did Mr. Roark ask you to get gasoline from Marcus Hill?”
Carol shook her head too quickly.
“No.”
“Are you certain?”
She pressed her hands together.
“He called me this morning.”
Wynn waited.
“He said the county had delayed a delivery and that I should help the program however I could.”
“Did he mention Marcus?”
“He said Marcus was hoarding fuel for a test while real people needed it.”
“And that made you think you could demand fuel from his driveway?”
“I was angry.”
“You were angry before you broke his window.”
Carol swallowed.
“He told me Marcus wasn’t willing to share.”
Wynn wrote the statement carefully.
“Did he instruct you to use the tire iron?”
“No.”
“Did he offer to pay you for confronting Marcus?”
“No.”
“Then you’re responsible for what you chose to do.”
Carol looked at the tabletop for a long time.
Her attorney explained that providing accurate information could affect the broader investigation but would not undo the damage charge.
Carol asked to speak with the investigators about the blue cards.
When Priya arrived, Carol described how Roark had recruited her through the neighborhood preparedness committee.
He had provided cards, a payment link, and the sales script.
Carol had added her own endorsement because residents trusted a familiar name.
She admitted that she had never seen a county authorization for the private membership program.
“Did you see any fuel deliveries?” Priya asked.
“Only cans being moved in and out of Cynthia’s van.”
“What was the fuel for?”
“Gavin said it was a reserve for members.”
“Where did he store it?”
Carol gave the address of the old drive-in.
Priya exchanged a glance with her colleague.
They already knew the location.
“Did Gavin tell you why the sample vouchers were redeemed this morning?”
Carol blinked.
“I don’t know anything about vouchers.”
Priya watched her carefully.
“Did you help him access county training materials?”
“No.”
“Did anyone ask you to recover an orange envelope from the fire chief’s truck?”
Carol went still.
Wynn noticed the change.
“Carol, answer only if you understand the question,” she said.
Carol stared at Priya.
“There was an envelope on the passenger seat,” she whispered.
“Who mentioned it?”
“Gavin.”
“What did he say was inside?”
“He said it had permission slips that proved his business was legitimate.”
Priya waited.
Carol’s voice became very small.
“He asked me to see if Marcus would let me look.”
“Did you see that envelope?”
“Through the window.”
“Did you break the glass to take it?”
Carol shook her head.
“I broke the glass because I was furious, and because I thought I could take the envelope afterward.”
The room became silent.
Carol squeezed her eyes shut.
“But I didn’t take it.”
“Why not?”
“The neighbors came outside.”
Wynn placed her hand on the table.
“Carol, you should understand that what you’ve just described is more serious than an argument about gasoline.”
Carol began to cry.
Not because she had discovered that hurting a neighbor was wrong.
She had known that before lifting the tire iron.
She cried because the easy explanations had run out.
