Locke Supply Co. v. Jordan Page

Let’s cut straight to the drama: three employees didn’t just quit their jobs — they allegedly spent months plotting a corporate heist from the inside, forming a competing business while still on the clock, stealing customer lists, poaching coworkers, and then lying to their boss’s face so they could cash out their employee stock benefits like some kind of plumbing supply Bonnie and Clyde. This isn’t just betrayal — it’s betrayal with a side of paperwork.

Meet Locke Supply Co., Oklahoma’s very own employee-owned distributor of plumbing, electrical, and HVAC supplies — basically the place your contractor calls when they need 500 feet of copper pipe and a guy named Chad who knows where it is. They pride themselves on being a tight-knit, family-style operation where employees have a stake in the company through an ESOP — an Employee Stock Ownership Plan, which is like a 401(k), but instead of stocks in Apple, you get a slice of the actual business you work for. It’s a nice perk. A valuable perk. And apparently, a very tempting perk if you’re planning to burn the whole place down on your way out.

Enter the alleged trio of turncoats: Jordan Page, James Keifer, and Michael Ballard — all former managers at Locke Supply, all people who were trusted with access to the company’s inner workings, customer relationships, and confidential data. These weren’t just grunts on the warehouse floor. They were in positions of authority. They signed policies promising not to misuse company secrets or start competing businesses. And yet, according to the filing, they allegedly did all of it — while still collecting paychecks.

The plot, as laid out in the petition, reads like a made-for-TV movie titled Plumbing the Depths of Betrayal. On or around November 19, 2024 — yes, this case is so fresh it still has that new-lawsuit smell — Jordan Page, allegedly in cahoots with Keifer, Ballard, and a Texas-based competitor called Winston Water Cooler, formed a new entity: Winston Water Cooler of Oklahoma City, L.P. Now, here’s the kicker — Winston is a Texas limited partnership. It had no real presence in Oklahoma. No office. No warehouse. No water coolers. But Page, still employed at Locke Supply, registered it to do business in Oklahoma, listed himself as the registered agent, used his personal email (jbutter — yes, really), and gave his home address as the official Oklahoma location. A water cooler company with no coolers, no office, and a home-based operation run by a guy who still worked for the company it was about to crush. Subtle? No. Suspicious? Extremely.

But they didn’t stop at paperwork. Oh no. While still technically loyal employees, the suit claims these three began actively recruiting Locke Supply staff to jump ship — luring away a reported 15 employees. That’s not just a few people — that’s a full department. Imagine showing up to work and half your team is suddenly gone, whispering about some new gig with “better opportunities.” And it wasn’t just coworkers they targeted. They allegedly started sweet-talking Locke’s customers too, trying to redirect business to their shadow operation before it even had a logo.

Now, here’s where it gets chef’s kiss dramatic: Michael Ballard got fired on December 13, 2024. Fair enough. But Page and Keifer? They stayed. And according to Locke Supply, they did so under false pretenses. They looked their bosses in the eye and said, “Oh no, we’re not going anywhere,” all while allegedly running a competing business in secret. Why the charade? Two words: ESOP payout. Because if they’d quit or been fired before December 31, they wouldn’t have qualified for their 2024 employee stock contribution — a benefit they’d earned by, you know, not destroying the company from within. The filing claims they stayed on specifically to collect that payout, all while continuing to access confidential info, steal customers, and poach staff. It’s like staying at a hotel past checkout so you can keep using the free Wi-Fi to run a competing Airbnb next door.

Locke Supply says this wasn’t just disloyal — it was illegal. They’re suing for breach of fiduciary duty (basically, “you were supposed to have my back, but you stabbed me instead”), unfair competition, conspiracy, and tortious interference (a fancy way of saying “you messed up our business relationships on purpose”). They’re not asking for an injunction to shut down the competitor — no, they want cold, hard cash: $150,000 in damages. Is that a lot for a plumbing supply drama? Well, not for a business, but it’s not nothing. That’s enough to cover a year’s salary for a couple of employees, or a nice chunk of legal fees. But more than the money, Locke seems to want accountability — and possibly the satisfaction of watching someone try to explain “[email protected]” under oath.

They also want the court to make Page, Keifer, and Ballard give back the money they were paid during the time they were allegedly working against the company. That includes their ESOP payouts, commissions, and any other compensation earned through what the suit calls “deceit and wrongful acts.” In other words: “You want your bonus? Here’s a subpoena.”

Now, let’s be clear — none of this has been proven. These are allegations. Page, Keifer, and Ballard haven’t responded in court yet (at least not in the documents we’ve seen), so we don’t know their side. Maybe they were planning an exit but did nothing illegal. Maybe “Winston Water Cooler” was a misunderstanding. Maybe “jbutter” is just a guy who really likes spreads. But the timeline? The home address? The 15 employees leaving? The Texas competitor connection? The ESOP timing? Come on. That’s not a coincidence. That’s a pattern.

Our take? The most absurd part isn’t even the betrayal — it’s the audacity. These were managers. Trusted employees. People who signed policies and presumably attended HR trainings about ethics and conflicts of interest. And instead of just quitting like normal people, they allegedly turned their final weeks into a corporate espionage arc straight out of Succession — but with water coolers. We’re not rooting for blood, but we are rooting for receipts. We want to see the text messages. The emails. The moment someone asked, “So, Jordan, why is your house now the headquarters of a competing business?” and he had to improvise.

And hey — if “jbutter” testifies? We’re bringing popcorn. This case is going to be drip-tastic.