“Is there someone you can call?” Will prompted.
Just as Harold picked up the phone, the music stopped and a DJ announced, “I have a message for the public. Please stay calm. We understand the recent sirens were activated by mistake. The problem at TMI is still under control. However, a small amount of radiation was released into the atmosphere earlier today. As a precaution, Governor Thornburgh is advising everyone within a ten mile radius of TMI to stay indoors.”
Will looked up at the sound of a huge gasp. The entire staff had crowded into the doorway of Harold’s office.
Harold looked at the group and tugged at his tie. “Wow. I don’t know exactly what to say. We are indoors, of course. And this building is at least twelve or thirteen miles away from TMI. But I’m not going to tell you what to do. If you don’t feel safe here, go home. If you need to see to your family, I’m not going to stop you.”
Will and the others trailed back out into the open office. A few people grabbed their belongings from their desks and ran out the door. Others stood together talking. Will considered his situation. He wasn’t worried about Randi’s safety. Their farmhouse sat another ten miles north of the city, too far away for Randi to have heard the sirens. Still, he decided to drive home. She had been so jumpy about this TMI thing. And he was starting to feel pretty uneasy too. He’d feel better if he and Randi were together.
He had just tidied his desk and closed his pencil drawer when Brad burst into the office, panting. His friend from Radiation Management made a beeline to Will’s desk. “I’m heading out of here right now, but with your pregnant wife, I wanted you to know.”
“Know what?” Will’s heart sank at the wild look on Brad’s face.
“I just had a call from a guy I served with in Nam. He works at the NRC in Washington. He says this problem at TMI is much worse than they’re saying. The plant experienced a huge spike of radiation last night, and they’re worried about a hydrogen bubble.” Brad gulped. “The whole thing could blow and contaminate everything in the area. Harrisburg could become a wasteland for the rest of our lives.” His voice turned bleak. “If we survive it.”
Will felt as if the floor had dropped away and left him clinging to a narrow ledge. “What distance? How far will the radiation go if it blows?”
“They’re saying forty-five miles. But I’m getting farther away. I’m going home to pick up my family as fast as I can. My wife’s on her way to take the kids out of school. Pregnant women and small children are more vulnerable than anyone else. You should get your wife someplace safe. As far away as you can.” Brad rested a shaking hand on Will’s shoulder.
“Thanks, man. I’m out of here now.” Will bolted to his feet, panic surging through his body as Brad sprinted from the room. He rushed into Harold’s office and gave him a quick summary of Brad’s news. “I’m leaving, Harold. Can you tell the others?”
Will raced to his desk and dialed home. He wanted to alert Randi and tell her to pack an overnight bag. He couldn’t get a signal. The phone lines had to be overloaded because of the sirens; everyone was calling to check in with family. By the third try, Will was sweating. He got a dial tone. But the phone rang twenty times; Randi wasn’t picking up.
“Shit.” Will slammed the phone back on its cradle and bolted for the door. Randi must be taking a nap or visiting their next-door neighbor, Ruth.
Will fretted as he floored the car down Second Street. Traffic clogged the roads as thousands fled the city. With each mile up the road, Will found a new reason to excoriate his earlier complacency. He should have listened to Randi and her mother on Wednesday. The love of his life would bring their first child into the world in a few weeks, and he had failed to protect them.
By the time he reached home, Will’s fears had escalated into full-blown panic. He peeled into the farmhouse driveway and jumped out of the car, leaving the door hanging open. Will ran into the house through the unlocked front door, calling, “Randi! Randi!”
Although the radio was playing, the kitchen stood empty. He rushed through the living room and took the stairs, two at a time, to the second floor. But she wasn’t in the bedroom either. Thinking his wife must be next door, Will hurried back downstairs. He slowed when he reached the kitchen. Something about the tone of the voice on the radio caught his attention. The newscaster reported in a somber tone with the hint of a quiver. “The governor has just released a new statement regarding Three Mile Island. He is advising those who may be particularly susceptible to the effects of radiation, that is, pregnant women and preschool-age children, to leave the area within a five-mile radius of the Three Mile Island facility until further notice.”
Will listened to the announcement with dismay. Their home was located well beyond the five-mile advisory, but this new announcement only confirmed what Brad had told him. Something had gone seriously wrong at TMI. Trembling, Will darted toward the door to look for Randi at Ruth’s house next door. He stopped short in horror when a scrawled note on the table caught his eye.
WILL – RANDI WENT INTO LABOR. I’M DRIVING HER TO HARRISBURG HOSPITAL. WE TRIED TO CALL YOU AT THE OFFICE BUT ALL THE LINES WERE BUSY. I’LL TRY AGAIN AFTER WE GET TO THE HOSPITAL. I’M LEAVING THIS NOTE IN CASE I CAN’T REACH YOU BY PHONE.
RUTH
Chapter Eleven
“Aren’t you going to that memorial service?” Melinda looked up in surprise at Alexa’s entrance.
“I am, but it’s not until eleven. I wanted to get a few things done before I head for Harrisburg.” Alexa sighed. “I’m getting so tired of that stretch of I-81. How do people drive it every day?”
“They have to do it for their jobs,” the ever-practical Melinda countered. “Didn’t you commute every day in New York?”
“Yes, but I took the subway. So no traffic to contend with. And, if I had to work late, which was most of the time, the firm had a car service to get me home. A perk for female associates.”
“Well, I’m sure all these Harrisburg commuters would love to have their own car service too,” Melinda sniffed. “You probably had uniformed waitresses to bring you tea at Baylor, Trego, Wilson and Gold, but today, you’ll have to settle for me.” Her assistant couldn’t maintain the disapproving tone and broke into laughter.
“Point taken. But you know I left the firm because I couldn’t stand it there. And I can get my own tea.”
Melinda leapt to her feet. “No, you get settled. I’ll bring you a cup of Constant Comment.”
When Alexa sat down, her heart sank to see the headline on the newspaper in the center of the desk―MARTINELLI MURDERED? Even though Detective Marshall had told her the cops were now investigating the case as a murder, seeing it in print made it more real. She remembered John’s warning. Yes, she and Keisha could be considered witnesses. But they had witnessed only Martinelli’s death, that startling moment when he plummeted into the floor. Neither of them had seen the killer throw the senator off the balcony.
She looked up as Melinda sailed through the door with a brimming teacup. “Interesting news, especially since you’re going to his memorial service today.”
“Thanks. No doubt people will be buzzing. The church will be packed.” Alexa took a sip of tea as Melinda bustled out the door. Then, she dialed the phone.
“Hello.”
“Jeannie, this is Alexa.” She put the phone on speaker mode.
“Have you found someone who can help us?” Before Alexa could answer, Jeannie spoke again in a muffled voice. “Tessa, honey, eat some Cheerios.”
Alexa waited a moment before she responded. “I have two possibilities. Through the Wildness Cooperative and Representative Jordan, I found that a local group, the Friends of Pine Creek, has filed a class action suit. Much of the focus is harm to the environment―watershed and things like that. But they also have a number of named plaintiffs with medical conditions they are alleging were caused by fracking. The second possibility. One of our attorneys, Vanessa Smallwood, has located a personal injury firm that specializes
in fracking-related illness. They would represent your family on a contingency basis. You’d have no costs up front, and they’d take a portion of the settlement. That lawsuit would be just about Tessa’s illness.”
“What do you think we should do?” Jeannie sounded like she was crying.
“That’s up to you and Tom. The class action suit has some traction. Plus there’s the advantage of other plaintiffs with illnesses that appeared after Monongas started drilling in Tioga County. If you go the personal injury route, the case is all about Tessa, and the attorney will have to build the case entirely on your family’s experience with Monongas. I could arrange a meeting with both sets of lawyers so they can explain how it would work and how they’d each approach Tessa’s claim.”
“Will you go with us? To the meetings?”
“Of course.”
“I’m in Philadelphia with Tessa later this week. For more testing.” Jeannie sounded distracted.
“How about I try to arrange the meetings for next week then? I’ll see if they can come to you―or at least to Wellsboro. I’ll be back in touch with some times.”
Tessa’s plaintive screams of “Mommy, Mommy” all but drowned out Jeannie’s reply. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”
As Alexa hurried down State Street, she wondered why she felt obligated to attend this memorial service for a man she’d never met. Watching Carmine Martinelli bleed to death on the capitol floor didn’t exactly qualify as knowing the senator. Still, when Keisha called to tell her about the service, Alexa felt like she at least owed this small courtesy to the man she’d seen die.
Walking through the doors of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Alexa paused, taking in the size of the crowd. The church was almost full. She headed down the aisle, looking for an empty space in one of the pews. She’d almost reached the altar when a voice on her right called, “Ms. Williams. There’s space here.” Representative Jordan, looking solemn in dark gray, shifted over and patted the wooden pew next to him.
“Thank you. I didn’t expect it to be so crowded. I should have gotten here earlier.” Alexa slid into the pew beside the legislator, trying to keep her voice even.
“I didn’t realize you knew the senator.” Jordan leaned closer to make his voice heard over the hubbub of the crowd. “He wasn’t on the Human Trafficking Commission, was he?”
“Um, no. We had just a passing acquaintance.” Alexa winced at her word choice. “But Senator Martinelli was a Senate legend. I wanted to pay my respects.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow at her response but didn’t ask for further explanation. “I knew Carmine very well. He chaired the Environmental Resources and Energy Committee in the Senate. I’m minority chair of the House’s counterpart of that committee. We had quite a few knock-down, drag-out fights on energy issues.” He smiled. “Like this drilling in State lands issue I told you about. But, I respected the old S.O.B.”
“I heard he was pretty pro-industry.”
As the rich tones of organ music filled the air, Alexa turned her attention to the front of the church. Still she caught the representative’s reply, muttered as if speaking to himself. “But on this one, I had him.”
Alexa wanted to ask what Jordan meant, but a priest launched into a singsong prayer. The entire assembly quieted, turning its attention to the front of the cathedral.
The memorial service dragged on forever. Keisha had informed Alexa that Senator Martinelli’s funeral and interment would be a family affair in his hometown. But the senator’s colleagues in the legislature had wanted to pay their respects with this Harrisburg event. Alexa hadn’t anticipated how many politicians would feel the need to speak in person about the deceased. Or how long each of those tributes would last. To keep from nodding off, she studied the rows of people. Almost all were dressed in shades of black and gray like a living chiaroscuro painting.
In the center of the front row, an older, heavyset woman dressed in black dabbed at her eyes. Alexa pegged her as the senator’s widow since most of the speakers nodded in her direction at some point during their remarks. Several pairs of black-haired men and women spread out like dark wings on either side of the aging matriarch. Probably the sons, daughters, and their spouses. Alexa’s curious gaze came to rest on a teenager, sitting at the end of the aisle in a wheelchair. She noted the boy’s pallor. His pale skin seemed to reflect something more than heartbreak at the death of a beloved grandfather. The teen looked ill.
Alexa continued to scan the crowd. She recognized a face here and there, but most of these people were strangers. Several people looked genuinely distraught. An elegant woman with a blonde chignon caught Alexa’s eye. She sat ramrod straight as tears flowed down her cheeks onto a purple dress, so plain and dark it looked like old-fashioned mourning clothes.
Fascinated with the woman, Alexa didn’t notice that Senator Gabler had taken the microphone immediately after the governor. At the sound of his voice, she turned her attention back to the altar. She soon lost interest; his tribute sounded like more of the same. Looking past Silas, she noticed Detective Marshall sitting with the choir. She stifled a hollow laugh. If Marshall was looking for the killer in this crowd, he had lots of possibilities to choose from. Gabler stepped away from the podium and another politician took his place. And another. The procession of distraught legislators seemed endless. Just when Alexa contemplated making a run for it, the choir broke into “Ave Maria.” The priest gave a benediction, and the interminable service finally ended.
As they stood and moved down the crowded aisle, Representative Jordan asked, “Any success in finding a lawyer for your client?”
“Perhaps. I’m arranging meetings with two potential firms next week, up in your district. The Friends of Pine Creek group is one of them.” Alexa turned to look up at him and nearly plowed into a man stopped in front of her.
“Next week? We’re out of session next week. While you’re in Tioga County, why don’t I give you a tour of the fracking fields? A little hands-on education to help you better advise your clients.”
Startled by the offer, Alexa hesitated.
“I’ll have my office coordinate a time. Give me a few hours, and I’ll turn you into a full-blown anti-fracking activist by the end of the tour.”
Alexa couldn’t ignore the dare in Jordan’s cocky statement. “You’re on.” She grinned.
“I’ll be in touch,” the legislator spoke over his shoulder as a man in a bold pinstripe suit grabbed him by the elbow.
“You came after all.” Keisha popped out of a pew to the left. “I saw you before the service, but we were wedged in the middle of the pew.”
Lauren followed Keisha out into the main aisle. “Hey, Alexa.” The intern lowered her voice. “We were talking the other day about educational experiences. Now that I’ve got the political memorial service under my belt, I’m ready to roll. I should get, like, an A plus, or at the very least an A, for sitting through this.”
Trying hard not to laugh, Keisha turned to her protégé. “Hush. Someone might hear you.”
Alexa whispered, “Out of the mouth of babes.”
“Now you’re calling me a babe.” Lauren turned to Keisha with an innocent look on her face. “Boss, is that, like, sexual harassment?”
By the time the three women reached the pavement in front of the cathedral, they were still laughing. Despite a chill in the air, much of the crowd continued to mill around in the bright sunshine. Keisha came to a halt a few yards away from the church entrance. “Did you read the paper today?”
Alexa glanced at Lauren.
“Don’t worry. She knows what we saw. I’ve pledged her to secrecy.” Keisha frowned. “But, girlfriend, you know it’s going to come out. All those policemen in the rotunda that night. This place leaks like a sieve.”
“You know I date a state trooper? He thinks we need to be careful. You and I know we didn’t see anything. But, if it gets out that there are witnesses, the bad guys won’t know we’re clueless.”
“Not entirely
clueless.” Keisha’s look held a question.
“Did Marshall ask you about the voices, too? I identified Senator Martinelli from an audiotape. I’d never heard him speak prior to that.”
Keisha replied, “That night, I thought Senator Martinelli might be one of the men arguing. He sounded a little frazzled or even desperate during that conversation. So it didn’t seem much of a stretch when he decided to end it all a few minutes later. I already told the cops I couldn’t identify the other guys.”
Lauren had been silent as she listened to Alexa and Keisha talk. With a sudden intake of breath, the intern tensed and stepped behind them. Alexa looked up to see two men walking by. The taller man was striking with a shock of white hair and a tanned face that looked no older than forty. He had that no-neck physique of a one-time football player or weight lifter; the collar of his crisp white shirt pulled taut beneath his expensive tie. The horn-rimmed glasses and tailored suit did little to offset the impression of sheer physical force.
Slight with a wispy gray comb-over, the second man bounced on his toes to keep up with his companion.
“Who are those two?” Alexa asked Keisha. She turned to Lauren. “Isn’t that the jerk who chewed you out the other week?”
Lauren nodded.
Keisha sighed. “Jerk is right, but he’s not anyone you want to mess with. That’s Nason Kurtz, one of the senior partners at Toland.” At Alexa’s blank look, she explained, “Walker Toland is the most influential lobbyist in Harrisburg. He’s been here longer than most legislators, and he has something like twenty associates in his firm.”
“Associates? You mean lobbyists?”
“Yeah. But, Nason is Toland’s right-hand guy. His father and grandfather were both state legislators. But his main claim to fame was as a big football star for Penn State.”
Lauren snorted. “I’m not sure he has the brain power to run for public office.”
Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel Page 9