Chapter 5 - The First Man on the Floor
Evan Price died at forty-one.
Nathan brought me a photograph of him.
Same curly hair as Nathan.
Broader shoulders.
A ridiculous Cleveland Browns sweatshirt.
“He hated accounting,” Nathan said. “He ran warehouse inventory.”
That detail caught me.
“Inventory?”
Nathan nodded.
Evan had supervised cycle counts at West Jefferson.
Two weeks before his death, he complained to Nathan that someone kept changing quantities after his team finished physical counts.
“Did he report it?”
“I don’t know.”
The official incident report stated that Evan complained of chest pain at 9:11 p.m.
He collapsed at 9:17.
911 was called at 9:26.
Nine minutes.
The number sat between us.
“What does the report say about the AED?”
“Equipment unavailable in immediate area.”
Nathan had believed that for three years.
Stanton’s facilities map showed an AED eighty feet from where Evan collapsed.
Monica warned us not to jump ahead.
“Maps change. Equipment gets relocated. We need contemporaneous records.”
She was right.
But a maintenance log showed the unit had been installed eleven months before Evan died.
Monthly inspections showed it operational.
The inspection three days before his collapse was signed.
By whom?
Martin Hale.
Nathan stood and walked to the other side of my living room.
“He told us there wasn’t one.”
“Maybe he forgot.”
Nathan turned toward me.
“Would you believe that?”
No.
But belief was not proof.
Then Stanton’s legal team found archived security statements from two warehouse employees.
One said:
Mr. Hale instructed us to wait for on-site management before calling emergency services because Evan had complained about stress before.
Another:
I asked about the AED. Mr. Hale said not to use equipment on someone who might still be conscious.
Evan had been unconscious.
No pulse was documented when EMTs arrived.
His death certificate listed sudden cardiac arrest associated with previously undiagnosed coronary disease.
Martin had not caused Evan’s heart attack.
Just as he had not caused mine.
But twice, an employee collapsed in front of him.
Twice, he delayed help.
Nathan sat back down.
“Why?”
That remained the question.
The audit committee gave us the first possible answer the following morning.
May you like
Evan Price had accessed some of the same inventory-adjustment reports I had been reviewing.
Three days before he died.
