Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel

by Sherry Knowlton

  During a commercial, Alexa picked up a tourist newspaper from the nightstand. One of those things-to-do-in-Tioga County rags. She leafed through the pages until she noticed an advertisement from Representative Walt Jordan. Probably a community service thing. Her eyes traveled to the full-page ad on the opposite page, and she froze. A large logo with an intertwined M and G took up most of the page. Below it, the words “Monongas, a Better Fuel for a Better Future.” The Chinese food congealed in Alexa’s stomach. Maybe her first instincts at Otter View had been correct. The two men had been wearing baseball hats with the Monongas logo. Were they trying to scare her away from helping the Demeters?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Walt Jordan cruised into the parking lot of Alexa’s hotel at nine o’clock, driving a dark gray Toyota Highlander SUV. His secretary had told Alexa this excursion would be casual dress. Still, she was glad to see the representative wore jeans too. She clambered into the SUV with her backpack, which contained water, a notebook, some granola bars, and her wallet.

  “We’ve got a nice day for it, “ the legislator said.

  “A little chilly for April.” Alexa pulled her lightweight down jacket a little tighter. “Thanks again, Representative Jordan, for giving me this tour. You could have sent me out with one of your local staff.”

  “Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat. If we are going to spend the day together, you have to call me Walt.”

  “Sure, Walt.” Alexa was still wary. Was his regular-guy vibe real or an act? Either way, the man was gorgeous.

  The representative extended his hand. Alexa accepted the handshake but began to blush when he cupped the other hand over hers. “I believe you’re a valuable ally to have on our side. So, that’s why I wanted to be the one to give you this tour. I’ve heard what you’ve done with your advocacy against human trafficking. I’d like you to lend some of that pizzazz to the fight against fracking.”

  Alexa shook her head and withdrew her hand. “My goal is to help my clients, not find a new cause. After yesterday, I believe I might have them squared away with the right attorneys. Thanks for your help. But when I wrap up this volunteer gig on the Human Trafficking Commission, I need to devote more time to my law practice.”

  Walt drove out of the parking lot, taking a left turn at the end of town. “If you’re not going to fight fracking then why are you here?”

  As she studied this appealing man’s profile, Alexa searched for an answer. “I have to admit that nothing I’ve learned so far about fracking has been good.”

  “That’s a start.”

  “And you helped me and my clients. I didn’t want to decline your generous offer to educate me further about fracking.” Alexa took a nervous gulp of air. Although they looked nothing alike, Walt’s easy style reminded Alexa of Reese. And that made her nervous. She was involved with John.

  Walt stopped the vehicle near the entrance to a wide dirt lane. Before he opened the door, he gave Alexa a long steady look. “I’m not sure generous is the word I’d use. I’m being upfront about my agenda. I want you.” He paused. “On our side.”

  Alexa let out the breath she’d been holding. As she slid out her side of the SUV, she muttered, “And I bet you get almost everything you want.”

  Midway down the lane where they stood, a NO TRESSPASSING sign glared bright yellow in the sun. But the sign looked like a neon speck against the steel tower beyond it. The drilling structure stood in the middle of a huge raft of mobile homes, construction equipment, storage tanks, metal pipes, and more. Alexa’s skin crawled, just like yesterday when she’d driven past that site along the road to Jeannie’s house. This place too was a mound of activity. Motorized equipment and trucks scurried around the elevated drilling site like the carrion beetles she’d seen swarming an elephant carcass in Africa.

  “I’m going to show you the various stages of the process. And then we’re going to visit some of my constituents who have leased their land for fracking.” Walt pointed toward the tower. “The first stage is to prep the land for all of this. A few weeks ago, that land was a field, just like that one over there.” He pointed to a rolling field to the left of the site. “The company comes in, builds up the slope of the land to create a flat pad of earth, covers it in a layer of permeable material, then tops it with several inches of gravel.”

  Alexa scanned the adjoining acres of rolling, spring-green fields and brought her gaze back to the jarring jumble of metal structures perched on the dull slash of gravel. “Damn. Right in the midst of this beautiful farmland. How big is the area of the―you called it a pad?”

  “Around five acres.”

  “Then what? This drilling? The fracking?”

  “We’re not at fracking yet. The drilling, which comes first, is a multi-step process. They need to drill through the layer of earth that contains the water supply and protect that with cement-encased steel tubing. Then, they use the same drilling rig to go deeper and drill down to the level where they’ll be doing fracking.” A big tanker truck came rumbling down the dirt lane. “These trucks are bringing out salt water.”

  “Jeannie mentioned salt water.”

  “Yeah. There’s a layer of salt water down in the earth that needs to be pumped out before fracking can begin. They case it with cement and steel to protect the groundwater supply and to keep it from seeping into the fracking operation. But, even in the ongoing extraction, the salt water must be separated from the natural gas before the gas is piped out.”

  “Where are the ponds? The Demeters’ daughter got into water from a pond with toxic chemicals in it.” Alexa looked toward the pad, searching for a pool of water.

  “Theirs must have been one of the early wells. In the first places drilled here in the county, Monongas placed a freshwater pond on site for the drilling process. They also created holding ponds for the salt water and the water that’s used in the actual fracking process. They were mostly earthen ponds lined with rubber. Sometimes they leaked, like with the Demeters. DEP cited the company for all sorts of violations. So, now, they use a system of specialized trucks. Some do high pressure pumping of the necessary water, sand, and other chemicals for the different stages of the fracking process. Others haul away the liquid byproduct.”

  “That seems like a tacit acknowledgment of negligence.”

  “I’m sure the attorneys will raise that point in their arguments.”

  As they wound through the rural roads, Walt showed Alexa a complex process. At one site, they saw a wireline inserting steel tubing into the drilled well bore. She recognized this as the same activity she’d seen along the road the day before, the one she’d likened to a giant mosquito boring into the ground. At the next site, the buzzing of a motor made conversation difficult as the drilling rig bored through the shale.

  “They dig down a mile and then out another mile at a ninety-degree angle?” Alexa shouted above the din. She pressed her foot down, thinking she felt vibration beneath her feet.

  Walt noticed her foot and smiled. “You’re probably imagining it.” He leaned over and spoke into her ear. His lips were so close they touched her hair. “But, after the well is drilled and piped, they set off explosive charges in the horizontal section to perforate the pipes. People say their houses shake when they set off the charges from the perf gun.” Walt explained that the actual fracking process then injected cracks in the shale with water and sand compound to open them up. “Then, the cracks become conduits for the gas to flow into the pipes and up to the surface pumping station.”

  They stopped at two completed sites, which looked a lot like the one at the Demeter farm. The flat pad that had been constructed for drilling remained. Now it housed a row of pipes and pumps in the center.

  “Most sites have six to eight wells.” Walt pointed at the eight pumps then moved his outstretched finger toward several metal structures at the edge of the pad. “The gas gets warmed over there in that shed. That separates out the salt water, which is then stored in one of these containe
rs. He gestured at several large metal containers like the ones at Jeannie’s farm. The actual gas goes into underground pipes that take it out of the area.”

  On a nearby hill, a swath of bare ground slashed through the forest like a gruesome scar. “Is that a gas line?”

  “It’s likely. They run beneath the surface all over the county.”

  “You want to stop for some coffee? This little place has a nice bakery.” When Alexa nodded, Walt pulled the SUV into the parking lot next to the old diner. All the employees and customers seemed to know their representative. Walt called most of them by name as they found a booth.

  “Tea, please. And a blueberry muffin,” Alexa told the aging waitress with hair wound in gray plaits around her head. “All of these tunnels under the ground, even under some peoples’ houses. It reminds me of this movie my brother, Graham, and I used to watch on TV when we were kids. These aliens lived in a tunnel outside a kid’s house. It terrified me.”

  Walt burst into laughter. “Invaders from Mars. The one where they put these crystal things into his parents’ heads and they changed, acting all weird, like human robots.”

  “Exactly. It’s like Monongas put crystals into everyone’s heads up here and got them to sign these awful leases.”

  “I have to admit I never pictured it quite like that. An alien invasion of Tioga County.” Walt raised an eyebrow. “Can I use that in my speeches about fracking?”

  “Wait a minute.” Alexa twisted her face into a mock frown. “Let me see the back of your neck first.”

  When the waitress arrived with their drinks, Walt had his head angled to show Alexa he was crystal-free. Turning back, he almost knocked a coffee cup out of the woman’s hand. After the server left, he joked, “You’re a bad influence.”

  “Me?”

  Walt replied in a husky voice as he gazed into her eyes. “I sort of like it.”

  Alexa stammered, afraid she was reading more into Walt’s tone than he intended. “On a more serious note, I had no idea the fracking process was so complicated. I did some research when I agreed to help the Demeters. But, seeing it like this, it’s amazing.”

  His gray eyes clouded. “That’s not exactly the impression I’d hoped for.”

  “I’m talking about the technology, and the fact someone designed such a complex process. That doesn’t mean I’m endorsing fracking. It’s hideous. I can’t imagine what it would do to your life to have all of that drilling and trucks and noise near your house. And what it does to the land is awful. How long does the process take before it becomes operational?”

  “Depends. Usually a few months.”

  “Jeannie told me they ran night and day.”

  “Time is money for the companies. They want to get in and out. Start the gas flowing.”

  “And even when it becomes operational, they have a five-acre plot of pipes and sheds and containers on their property. I saw one of those water trucks coming in to empty a container at Jeannie’s. I guess they put that in when they closed down the holding pond.”

  “Most of the pads are on slopes. It’s so hilly up here. DER requires that the company put in a containment pond for water that spills off the pad. So, they still use ponds, but not for storage of the fracking water.”

  Alexa remembered the brackish pond she’d passed on her way to Jeannie’s house. “It must cost the gas company a fortune to drill all these wells.”

  “I’ve heard it costs more than a million to come in and set one of these up. But the cost-benefit ratio must be immense. When the gas is flowing and the market is booming, it’s like liquid money.”

  After the waitress brought their order, the conversation veered away from fracking. “Do I have it right that you used to practice law in New York City?” Walt asked.

  “After college and law school at Columbia, I joined one of those giant firms in the city. When they put me on the partner track, I realized I just couldn’t do it anymore. Too many hours. Too much infighting. No trees. So I fled the city and joined my family’s practice with my dad and brother. I’m much happier now, living in a little cabin in the woods. Practicing general civil law.”

  “Sounds idyllic.” He set his coffee cup on the table.

  Alexa laughed and tore her gaze from the lean hands wrapped around the mug. “I wouldn’t go that far. What’s your story? What fueled your meteoric rise to become one of the most admired legislators in Harrisburg?”

  “Like you said, I wouldn’t go that far. How about I just give you the basics?” Walt continued without waiting for Alexa’s response. “I spent most of my life here in Tioga County. Joined the Marines after high school. There wasn’t much money for college, and I wanted to get far away from here. I could have gone to Mansfield or another state school, but I opted for seeing the world. Turns out I saw a lot of the worst places in the world as a Marine―but, hey, it wasn’t Tioga County.”

  “Were you in combat?”

  “I spent time in Somalia. When my tour ended, I decided I didn’t want to spend my whole life in the military, so I went to college. I’d saved a good bit of money, took out some loans, and went to Penn State. By that time, I didn’t care if I went to a state-related school or not. I just wanted a degree. Then I got into Dickinson Law. Came back home and joined the district attorney’s office for a brief stint. Got political ambitions. Thought I could be the change in the world. I’ve been in the House for almost eight years now.”

  “What about the environmental thing? When did you get involved in that?”

  “My first term in the House and the fracking boom hit around the same time. At first, most people looked at the gas leases as gifts from heaven. But, little by little, things happened, attitudes changed. I took up the cause, just like a modern-day Don Quixote.” He punctuated his words with a sardonic grin.

  “I don’t think you’re tilting at windmills, Walt. You’re just trying to hold an industry accountable for the damage they’ve caused. Look at little Tessa Demeter.”

  Alexa felt a little flutter when Walt looked into her eyes and said, “Your support means a lot to me.”

  Following Walt out to the SUV, Alexa sighed. She had a boyfriend. Spending even a minute longer with this charismatic legislator spelled trouble with a capital T. But she couldn’t leave. He’d arranged meetings with his constituents, and it would be rude to bail now.

  Back on the road, Walt turned into a winding gravel lane that snaked through acres of fields. Most had been plowed under, ready for spring planting. They stopped beside a weathered farmhouse that hadn’t seen a coat of paint for years. Across the drive, an old barn leaned into the hillside, its door hanging wide open. Two black and white dogs barked, wagging their tails as they approached Walt and Alexa.

  The man of the house opened the door and welcomed them inside. “Howdy, Mr. Jordan. Miss. Come in and meet the missus.”

  They followed him through the entry room into a warm but faded kitchen. The wife rose from her chair and asked, “Can I get you something to drink? We have soda pop, or I can make coffee.”

  Walt smiled. “Mrs. Lowry. A Dr. Pepper would taste good, thanks.”

  Alexa followed his lead and asked for a Coke. Mrs. Lowry wore her iron gray hair in a pageboy with bangs, a style that reminded Alexa of photos of Mamie Eisenhower. In her late sixties at least, she wore a powder pink sweatshirt with a picture of puppies on the front. Mr. Lowry looked ill, his skin drawn tight and pale over the bones of his face.

  “Thanks for letting me bring Ms. Williams to visit. I’m trying to give her an introduction to the impact fracking has had on all of us in Tioga County.”

  “Well, we could spend an entire day telling you about Monongas, but I’ll try to keep it short.” Mr. Lowry motioned for them all to sit at the kitchen table, then launched into a nervous monologue. “We signed on early, back in 2006. I had some health problems, and it was hard to pass up the money. They hired Dennis Roth’s boy, Junior, to go around and pitch the leases. The boy did a good job; made it seem l
ike we were earning money for doing nothing. Said they might not even decide to drill in our lifetime. We own fifty-five acres, so that offer of five hundred dollars an acre gave us more cash in hand than I’d ever seen at one time. We paid off most of the mortgage and put a little away for medical bills and such.”

  “We wish we’d known then what we know now,” Mrs. Lowry said in a gloomy voice.

  “They set up the drilling operation within months of signing the lease. What a trial.”

  “Your drilling site is up above the barn, right?” Walt interjected.

  “I’ll show you when you leave out of here,” the husband said. “Lord, I never saw such a commotion as when those people came on our land to drill. Night and day. Our four dairy cows turned restless and didn’t give good milk. Mother and I couldn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

  Alexa studied the couple as they described their experience. In many ways, their account echoed Jeannie’s fracking story. But these two looked like their losses to fracking had sucked out their very vitality.

  “We could live with the drilling because we knew it would end. We could deal with the loss of five good acres of farmland. Hell―oh, excuse me, miss. Heck, we could even live knowing we had them pipes down below the house and the fields, snaking out in every direction. But, when the water turned, that was the last straw.”

  The Lowrys went on to tell a tale of a contaminated well, relying on bottled water, and struggles with the gas company to get them to install the right filters to make the well water usable. “We had to sell the cows. Couldn’t risk them drinking contaminated water. We use it to bathe and for laundry but stick to the bottled water for drinking and cooking.”