Chapter Twenty-Six
(Thursday, Noon—Carl)
Carl was having a ball. Maybe this whole thing was supposed to be “off the record” for now, but eventually it would have to come out, and he’d be the guy who would make it happen. It’d make a great column. Hell, forget the column. This could be the book he’d always wanted to write. Maybe somebody would make a movie. He’d get on Oprah.
Carl had told Owen and the cops he’d had some facts to check before making the call. Actually he’d just wanted to get away from them. He hated to work with people looking over his shoulder.
Gordon had been especially annoying. He’d told Carl twice that the meeting needed to be in a public place, and they needed it to be at least a few hours away to have time to set up surveillance. What did he think Carl did for a living?
He made the call from his car as he drove back to his office.
“CyberLook, this is Rachel. May I help you?”
“Yeah, hi. I’d like to speak to Danny Sheffield. This is Carl LaMott with the Caller-Times.”
“May I ask what this concerns?”
“Just tell him it’s about federal money.”
“Federal…very well, sir. Please hold on and I’ll see if he’s in.”
Carl grinned. That would bring Sheffield running. Whatever else was going on, it was always about money. And nobody ever wanted it exposed to the public.
“Carl? This is Danny Sheffield. What’s going on?”
“Nice. Isn’t that my question? I’m the reporter, you know?” Carl shifted to the slow lane so he could concentrate on the call.
Sheffield laughed. “Yeah, okay. Something I can help you with?” He lowered his voice. “You’re Owen’s friend from the paper, right? We’ve met a couple of times? Is this about him? Jesus, I heard this morning about what happened to Shawna. The whole situation stinks. If you hear from him, tell him I’m rooting for him.”
“No, that’s not it,” Carl said. “Though I’ll pass that on if I get the chance. I’m actually doing some research for a column I’m writing. It’s about our local economy’s dependence on federal dollars.”
“Yeah?” Sheffield asked noncommittally.
“Yeah, you know. The Naval Air Station, for starters. Something historical about how federal money was used to dredge the channel. All the political infighting that went into making that happen here instead of farther north so we’d get the deepwater port. A section on tourism, how it’s important but hasn’t really taken off here the way it has other places. Maybe a summary of entrepreneurs going back to Kinney in the 1800’s, how they tried to get rich and mostly failed, and how at the end of the day it’s essentially federal money that’s built this city. That kind of thing.”
“Okay,” Sheffield said. “That sounds interesting, but where do I fit in? I’m not exactly an expert on local history, you know. In fact I didn’t even know about what you just said until you told me.”
“Well, think of it. Dredging, bases, and now software development. You guys started off on the private-sector side of the fence. Now I hear you’re working on some stuff that has the government really interested. So I’d like to, well, make an example of you. In the column. As the wave of the future, bringing in dollars in spite of all the talk about cutting back the military presence here. People are worried about that, and they should be. The column will help my readers to understand what’s going on at CyberLook. I think they’ll be interested.”
“Uh huh. Where’d you get all that? About CyberLook, I mean.”
“From a source,” Carl said happily. “Something about communication software and satellites. Hey, this isn’t related to that old Star Wars stuff, is it?” He laughed. “Seriously, I wouldn’t know a satellite from a satyr, except I think I could get along with one better’n the other. This technical stuff is way out of my league. I figured you’d like a chance to hear what I’ve got, maybe check it for accuracy.”
“You know, Carl, the situation here is pretty delicate right now. I don’t have a lot of free time, and I don’t know why you think we have a pot of federal dollars pouring in.” Sheffield laughed. “If I could show you the books, I think you might be considerably less inspired by what we’re doing. Maybe you should go back to your source and verify all this.”
“Uh huh,” Carl said. “Sure. I could try from the other end, too. I think the NSA has a public information office or something. Maybe they’ll tell me what’s going on.” He waited. Danny said nothing. Carl could hear him breathing. Probably wondering what to do now. So what’s it gonna be, Danny-boy?
Carl decided to make it easier for him. “Anyway, I thought you could look at some of this stuff and kinda help me out with my direction for the column. Maybe you could let me know what to say so I don’t hurt whatever you’re trying to do.”
“I’d be willing to look at what you have, I guess,” Sheffield said calmly. “Maybe I can help with some of the technical stuff, as you suggested. Would you like to come over to the office, maybe late this afternoon?”
“Um…no, I don’t think so. I have to be downtown for the next couple of hours, then I have to meet somebody in the Staples Mall about info for another column. Hey, want to join me for dinner in the food court? I’ll probably eat there anyway. It’s not fancy, but they’ve got great Chinese, I swear.”
Sheffield’s laugh was sounding less and less amused. “The food court? I guess I can do that. What time?”
“How about four-thirty? That way the lines won’t be so bad, and we can be sure to get a table.”
“That works for me, Carl. Ah…I would like to discuss your ideas for the column. I might be able to help you find a different slant. Perhaps even a more lucrative direction.”
“Exactly what I was hoping for.” Carl smiled and hung up. This was going to be a lot of fun. Maybe he’d get a Pulitzer. He cackled and rubbed his hands together, inspired by a Saturday-morning cartoon character (though he couldn’t remember which one), then grabbed the wheel when he started drifting into the fast lane. A horn blared, and an angry pizza delivery driver gave him the finger as he roared past.
Carl shrugged. You had to play around sometimes. Otherwise, sooner or later the guys in white suits would come take you away.
He picked up his phone again to give Gordon and Faulkner the news.
***
Shiver on the Sky Page 42