Jacked (Men on a Mission Book 2)

by Kate Gilead

  “Sure. It is a good deal. But the money is nothing to Claude. And he has an agenda. He buys people, see? We do what he says, he looks like a hero, and Mom devotes all her attention to him instead of her own children.”

  “She must also want you both to have whatever opportunities you can.”

  “Sure, I understand that. But I don’t want what Claude’s offering. Or demand we take, no room for compromise. Mikey either. I told you, Claude wants him to go into land surveying and work for him as well. But Mikey wants to take computer science and start his own business one day.”

  “Oh yeah? Impressive. Like I said, Mikey will have a home with us, okay? I understand that sibling bond, Molly. I loved my baby brother, too.” She looks at me quietly, with such compassion in her eyes. “There’s lots of room at the house. You’ll see, next break weekend, alright?”

  “Oh thank you Jack! You’ll love my brother, he’s really cool! And a very hard worker. He’ll find a job and won’t be in your hair, at all.”

  “I’m not worried about that. If he’s half the person you are, I’ll be fine with him. I don’t want you to worry anymore, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I pull her back down to lay with me, and the way she puts her head on my chest, so trustingly, makes my heart melt all over again.

  We both fall into an exhausted, peaceful sleep.

  * * *

  Clank.

  I open my eyes in total darkness.

  Listening. The wind is silent now, and even the crickets are sleeping, save for a few random chirps.

  Molly’s deep, regular breathing comes from my right side, where’s she rolled in her sleep. I can feel the warmth radiating from her body but I reach out and touch her just the same.

  Everything’s cool. I close my eyes again and I’m almost asleep when it comes again.

  Clank clank clank.

  What the hell? I sit up and listen. That sound…what could be making it out here?

  Clank.

  Its distance tells me that it’s not here in this clearing with us. In fact it sounds like it’s coming from across the stream, on Claude’s property.

  Maybe there are campers out there. Maybe that’s what that smoke was from earlier. But they put that fire out, as if…as if they know they’re not supposed to be there.

  Clank clank clank.

  I need to see what that is. As quietly as I can, I slip out of the tent, bringing my phone. There’s no service out here, but I might need light.

  Outside, the sky is clear, full of stars and beautiful.

  With the waxing moon providing enough light to see by, I put on my shoes and head towards the stream, using some stones to step across to the other side.

  It’s tough walking through bush totally silently, but I step carefully and keep my movements quiet.

  Now, I can hear voices. They’re speaking normally, not trying to be quiet. Whoever it is, they’re not too worried about being discovered.

  Just ahead, the trees thin out and through them, I can see there’s a small clearing. There’s a bright LED lantern on the opened tailgate of a pick-up truck, shedding light on the scene.

  I stop at the tree-line, staying well hidden.

  There are three men out there. One is crouched down, a headlamp attached to his hat, shining light on the ground.

  Another is standing with a pick-axe over his shoulder, watching the crouching man.

  The third man is examining something by the light of the lantern.

  What the hell are they doing? Maybe I can get them on video with my phone.

  Slowly, I crouch down and move under a tree with a good vantage point. Sitting down carefully, I take out my phone, and turn on video recording, making sure to avoid casting any light from the device.

  Maybe there’s enough light in the clearing to get a decent video. Maybe with sound too, since I can hear them quite clearly from here.

  “This is bullshit, doing this at night like we’re a bunch of sneaks,” Crouching Dude says. “My fuckin’ back hurts.”

  “What are you complaining about? You just got here. We’ve been here all week, digging up fuckin’ samples in the dark,” Pick-Axe Dude says.

  “Yeah? Too bad. And you shouldn’t have started that fire, you idiot,” Crouching Guy says. “If anyone saw that…”

  “Like who? There’s no one around for miles,” says Pick-Axe.

  “Except the loggers on Becker’s land up there. And campers and people going out for drives…anyone could’ve seen.”

  “No one comes here anymore. And it’s not suspicious for campers to be on the pubic land adjacent. For all anybody’s gonna know, we’re just camping. So shut up about it.”

  “Both of ya, shut up. You know why we gotta do it this way,” Lantern Dude says. “This is criminal activity we’re engaging in here. We’re in it up to our necks. So’s Becker, especially since his lawsuits failed. He can’t say he didn’t know about the endangered species here.”

  Crouching Dude stands up, moves back and turns a bright flashlight on the ground. “Here, give that spot I marked a couple cracks, Dave.”

  “This is stupid. There ain’t no diamonds this far south and everybody knows it.” Nonetheless, Pick-Axe Guy moves into position, takes aim, and swings the axe. Clank. Then again, and again. Clank clank.

  He steps away, leaving Crouching Guy room to move back in. “If he gets caught, and the case goes before Judge Lavalee–which it will, since it’s her jurisdiction–he’s looking at jail time. Judge Lavalee don’t fuck around.”

  “Mark my words. If there’s any goddamn diamonds in this pipe,” Lantern Dude says, “the government’s gonna change their tune. Probably expropriate the whole fucking thing and mine it themselves.”

  Pick-Axe Dave snorts. “With what? Public money? Forget it. They’ll make a back-room deal with Becker, tax the shit out of it and keep it hush-hush. And if anyone goes to jail, it’ll be us. Men like Becker never do time.”

  Holy shit!

  Diamonds in this pipe…?

  There’s only two kinds of “pipes” that produce diamonds. They’re natural pipes or tubes made of igneous rock, formations produced by volcanic activity millions or even billions of years ago. Kimberlite is one of the two types that sometimes contain diamonds.

  Canada, along with Russia, is the leading producer of the precious stones found in the northern hemisphere.

  Most known kimberlite pipes are far, far to the north of here. Most are in the Northwest Territories, if I remember right.

  Due to the presence of certain features resembling those pipes found on topographical surveys, rumors of their existence even this far south have been circulating for years.

  “You better hope Becker makes out okay with this,” Lantern Guy’s saying. “Because if he doesn’t, he’ll throw us under the bus in a heartbeat. So both of you, keep your big mouths shut and just do what he’s paying you to do.”

  Worried now about Molly waking me up and finding me gone, I back slowly away from the scene in the clearing and make my way back to the tent.

  Chapter Nine

  Molly

  As soon as I wake up the next morning, Jack tells me about what he found out last night and shows me the video.

  Once he explains about kimberlite and diamond mining and the potential value of that sensitive land, I’m not even surprised that Claude’s willing to risk it.

  “This explains a lot,” Jack says. “All the fancy trappings in the camp. The water, the hydro, the fibre-optic plans. He’s very invested in this diamond thing.”

  “I wonder if that’s why Claude wanted me to be a geologist? And he wanted my brother to be a surveyor and for us both to work for him.”

  “Maybe he thought he could buy your loyalty. Keep it in the family.”

  Unfortunately, the video recording isn’t that clear. The men’s voices are faint, but audible, so that’s not a problem.

  But their faces can’t be seen at all, nor any other identifying informati
on.

  We break our little camp and head back to the cabin. “I’m not sure what can be done with this, Molly,” Jack says. “I doubt it’ll stand up in court as evidence of anything. But, I’ll talk to George MacTier in the conservation authority. He’s an old friend of my parents’. Me and Todd used to hang out with his kids. He’s a very high-placed official. If anyone will know what to do with this, it’s him.“

  “Okay. And I want to talk to my mother about this.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. What if the authorities want to investigate but she tips him off first?”

  “I think she has the right to know who she’s married to.” Still, even so, I hurts me to think about how it will affect her.

  “I agree. But let me talk to my friend first. They’ll have a better idea where to go with this.”

  * * *

  Jack doesn’t waste any time getting the ball rolling. He calls his friend George in the Ministry of Natural Resources, the highest government office within the conservation authority.

  Listening to his side of the conversation, I can tell the person on the other end is very interested in seeing the video. After a few minutes, he hangs up, uploads the video to the computer and sits back with a sigh.

  “George said he thinks they’ll probably mount an investigation but it will take time to gather evidence. Then, they’ll take their results to the Crown Attorney’s office, who will make the determination whether to press charges.”

  “Is there any danger to you Jack? Will your friend have to say where the video came from?”

  Now that we’ve taken this step, my stomach is in knots.

  “If I’m called to testify, I’ll testify. But they’ll probably gather proof through their own means. They have technology for that, everything from trail cams to satellite surveillance. They have undercover officers and geologists and surveyors and professionals of all kinds to put to work on it. Far beyond what some guy with an iPhone can do.”

  “Okay.” But my gut’s still twisted and I know it’s not just on Jack’s behalf. “Geez, Jack. I’m starting to feel really bad for my poor mother. This will be very hard on her.”

  He pulls me into his lap. “I know, baby. I was thinking the same thing. But sometimes, this it what it takes to stop people with too much money and no regard for the law.” He starts to say something else, then hesitates.

  “What?”

  “As I mentioned, it’s very doubtful that there are any diamonds there in the first place. So Claude is going on pure blind greed and speculation. He’s ready to tear shit up, basically, on what could be a pipe dream.” Tenderly, he pushes a piece of my hair behind my ear. “If it makes you feel any better, George said they suspected that Claude’s failed lawsuits wouldn’t be the end of it. He’s too used to getting his own way…too used to throwing money at his problems.”

  “Why didn’t they do something about it then?”

  “Because they can’t have resources on every square inch of Claude’s land. It’s too vast. They needed a reason to make a move, and now, they have one.”

  “I wish…I guess I just wish the reason wasn’t us. Me. My poor mother!” Eyes welling up with tears, I press my face into his shirt.

  “I know, sweetie, I know,” he soothes, holding me close. “Have faith, okay? And keep this to yourself. Let the authorities follow their process and we’ll just live our lives. I promise, things will work out.”

  * * *

  The next month passes as quickly as the first.

  Our work days are grueling as usual, and with summer comes the plagues of mosquitoes, and deer and horse flies.

  The only other thing that’s bothering me is not being able to tell my mom or my brother about my relationship with Jack.

  We decide to keep it from them just in case they mention something to Claude, not merely because of the company’s liability rules but because of this potential investigation into Claude’s criminal activity.

  What if it gets back to him that Jack was the one who put the bug into the authorities’ ears about that? What if Claude gets spooked and stops until the heat goes down?

  Or worse, what if he takes revenge somehow? Uses his money and influence to cause Jack to lose his job or reputation or…who knows.

  Neither one of us can do anything to change the outcome now.

  So we just keep on doing what we do.

  On the upside, there’s so much beauty and peace here, too. Summer vegetation is blossoming is all its glory, and Jack makes a point of bringing me a bouquet of wildflowers every few days, to brighten up our cabin and my heart.

  Also blossoming is our love.

  I sleep with Jack in the loft every night now of course, and although we’re still tired all the time, some nights, we make slow, languorous love, with the breeze coming in from the little window over the bed to cool and comfort us.

  There’s still been no word from Jack’s friend in the ministry, and my distress over the situation fades. We don’t talk about it much, rather, we just live day-to-day, and look forward to whatever small things bring us pleasure.

  When the next long weekend break arrives, as promised, Jack takes me to see his house.

  Our house, as he keeps calling it.

  * * *

  Situated on the shore of Milford Bay in Lake Muskoka, it’s not all that far from Claude’s palatial mansion on Three Mile Lake near Bracebridge.

  And it’s a big house, but thankfully, it’s not palatial. There are no Eye of Sauron-type computers running everything in the background, watching and logging our every move.

  When it was new, back in the 1890’s, the house was a large stone stable on a property where the house itself burned down years ago.

  Jack gives me a tour of the place, now renovated into an open-concept modern home with a huge kitchen, fitted with a family-sized table that can seat twelve people comfortably.

  There’s a familiar rag-rug on the floor in front of the sink.

  A large living area has comfortable furnishings, the requisite enormous flat-screen TV and an enviable stereo system.

  Jack shows me cool things from the past like the cast-iron door covering the ash-pit in the living room fireplace, stamped with the date it was made, 1897.

  There are four bedrooms upstairs, the lead-pane glass in the windows of the rooms each sporting a stained-glass square showing equestrian scenes.

  Each bedroom is roomy, with two sharing access to a bathroom, and the main bath has a deep old-fashioned bathtub with a view over the lake.

  The master bedroom has a beautiful ensuite with a view as well, and a small fireplace with a mantlepiece that Jack hewed himself, with wood from a tree he cut and milled with his own hands.

  Finished the tour, we go back into the kitchen where, with Jack’s encouragement, I get nosy and poke into all the cupboards, the pantry and the double-door refrigerator.

  I putter around, putting away some groceries for the weekend, while Jack goes out to put the canoe in the water and do a check of the property.

  When he comes back, I put the kettle on and ask the question that I’ve been wondering about since we arrived.

  “Honey, why do you have such a big house? Such a big dining table, when you live here alone?”

  He takes a seat and stretches those long legs out. “Well, you know you’re not my first girlfriend, right?”

  “Dang, seriously?” I crinkle my nose at him, making him chuckle.

  “I almost got married once. I wanted a big family and she said she wanted the same. But obviously, it didn’t work out.”

  “Oh. Well, I’d say I’m sorry to hear that, but, I’d be lying.”

  He laughs. “My dad always said these things work out for the best. And it was a close call. We had a date picked out and were working on the invitation list when my brother was killed. We were looking at houses, too. Not this one, it wasn’t for sale back then. But after Todd’s death, I…um, I wasn’t dealing with it very well. It ended up con
tributing to the break-up.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow?”

  “She…her name’s Bonnie…she was there for me for the first few months after Todd passed. At least, I thought she was but looking back, I don’t know. I was in a fog. Anyhow, she kind of, I dunno, lost patience with me when I couldn’t get into the wedding plans anymore.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “No, she really surprised me. Right around six months after he passed, she seemed to expect me to just be done mourning and for things to go back to the way they’d been. She wanted to party, have friends over, be the center of attention.”

  “Jesus. Was she dropped on her head as a baby or something?” Oh shit, I shouldn’t have said that!

  But he laughs. “Maybe. All I know is, when I didn’t meet her expectations anymore, when I couldn’t be the same man I’d been… she started going out with her friends, staying out until dawn sometimes. Then, one day, she strolled in reeking of sex and alcohol, with her clothes…” He stops and clears his throat. “With her clothes looking pretty rumpled.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah. She swore nothing was going on…that she’d fallen asleep at her friend’s place or some shit. And I believed her because…”

  “Because you needed to.”

  He nods. The look in his eyes as he regards me, so nakedly vulnerable, just makes my heart break into a million pieces.

  I go over to him, wrap my arms around his head and hold him close. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry…”

  He wraps his arms around my waist and buries his face in my boobs. “Funny thing is, Todd tried to warn me about her. Said she was superficial and flighty. A good-time girl, someone who just wants everything to look good and to hell with reality. We almost got into a fist-fight about it and didn’t talk for months. I should have listened to him.”

  “Oh, no. I hope you two made up before he…” I murmur this into his hair, still holding him close.

  “Yes, we did. Thank God. But I just…I couldn’t let her go. I let her push me into putting an offer on this place when it came on the market. By then, I was hanging by a thread and the next time she came home late, I broke up with her.”