“Everything okay?”
“No.”
Her voice was steady.
“There's somebody at the north gate.”
The mechanic became serious.
“Are you going out there?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Dileia watched through the security system.
The figures moved toward the gate.
One tried the latch.
Then the other produced a tool.
Dileia's stomach tightened.
She recorded the activity and provided the location to the responding officers.
Before the deputies arrived, the men moved away from the gate.
Their truck began driving toward the county road.
But a patrol unit approaching from the opposite direction stopped it.
Dileia watched the distant lights.
Her hands trembled.
She wanted to run outside.
Wanted to confront the men.
Wanted to demand why people kept treating her farm as though she had no right to protect it.
Instead, she stayed inside.
The officers later explained that they had identified the occupants and documented their presence.
One was employed by a company connected with Harlon's agricultural operations.
The other was a contractor.
They claimed they had permission to inspect the property.
But they could not produce authorization from Dileia.
The deputies investigated the circumstances.
They also reviewed the available footage and earlier reports.
The incident did not prove every allegation Dileia had made.
But it added to a growing record of attempted access and disputed authority.
The next morning, her attorney received another letter from Harlon's representatives.
This one accused Dileia of interfering with legitimate commercial rights.
It demanded that she stop transferring samples to Helvetic.
And it threatened legal action if she continued negotiating.
Dileia stared at the letter.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because she had finally become too exhausted to be frightened by every envelope bearing a lawyer's name.
She called her attorney.
The older woman listened.
Then said, “We expected this.”
Dileia frowned.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
The attorney explained that Harlon's position depended on establishing rights to material he hadn't convincingly shown he owned.
The disputed agreement dated after Walter's death was a major problem for him.
The historical documents raised additional questions about his company's knowledge and conduct.
And the unauthorized-access reports made the situation more serious.
But the attorney cautioned Dileia against assuming the dispute would end quickly.
Legal proceedings could take months.
Sometimes years.
“Then what do we do?”
“We protect your rights, comply with valid obligations, and let the evidence speak.”
Dileia closed her eyes.
Her father used to say almost exactly the same thing.
Then she asked about the bank.
The attorney's voice softened.
“We're getting closer.”
The following day, Dr. Meier called.
Dileia answered before the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Miss Ashford?”