Chapter 8: What Janet Did With It
Diane's email arrived at 11:14 that night.
Janet forwarded it to me at 7:02 the next morning with a single line: *This changes the picture considerably.*
I called her immediately.
"She named three other contractors," Janet said.
"Not just Frank.
Three others over the past six years who were underpaid or pressured into settling for less than they were owed.
One of them filed a complaint with the licensing board and was told there was insufficient evidence.
She has texts.
She saved them."
I sat down on my couch.
"She's been holding onto this."
"For a while, it seems." Janet's voice was careful and precise, the way it got when she was thinking three steps ahead.
"This moves us out of small claims.
Frank's case is still straightforward, but Diane's statement and those supporting records — that's a pattern.
That's something the county contractor licensing board and potentially the state attorney's office would want to see."
"Are you going to send it to them?"
"I'm going to ask Frank first.
This is his case.
His call."
I drove to Grandpa's house.
He was already up, already at the table.
He read the forwarded email twice.
Read Diane's statement once, slowly, all the way through.
He set it down.
"The other three contractors," he said.
"Do we know who they are?"
"Janet has names.
One of them filed a complaint already."
He nodded.
"That man deserves to know his complaint wasn't ignored.
It just needed more behind it."
"So you want Janet to move forward?"
He looked at the statement on the table.
"Hartwell told me I was one old carpenter working by himself." He looked up.
"Turns out I wasn't."
Janet filed with the state contractor licensing board that afternoon.
The filing included Frank's contract, the release document, the email chain, Dennis's inspection report, Diane's written statement, and the supporting records Diane had attached — screenshots of text exchanges between Hartwell and his contacts at the county board, going back four years.
Two days later, Hartwell's contact at the licensing board — a deputy administrator named Fowler — was placed on administrative leave pending a review of his conduct.
Hartwell called Grandpa's cell phone at 9:30 that morning.
Grandpa let it ring.
Hartwell called again at 9:47.
Then at 10:02.
At 10:15, he called Janet's office directly.
She took the call.
I wasn't there for it, but she told me afterward that he had opened with a settlement offer — full payment of the $6,200, plus an additional $1,500 for what he called "inconvenience." He said he wanted the licensing board filing withdrawn and the county complaint resolved quietly.
Janet told him the county process and the licensing board review were not Frank's to withdraw.
She told him Frank would accept the $6,200 plus the $1,500, and that the remaining matters would proceed independently on their own timelines.
Hartwell said that wasn't acceptable.
Janet said, "Then I'll see you in court, Mr.
Hartwell.
Have a good day."
He called back in forty minutes and agreed to the terms.
The check arrived by courier the following afternoon.
$7,700.
Grandpa held it for a moment, then set it on the kitchen table next to his legal pad.
"Is that enough?" I asked.
He thought about it.
May you like
"For me, yes," he said.
"For the others — that's still moving."
