by Diane Castle
CHAPTER 26
When Anna Delmont heard the explosion, she immediately jumped in the car and headed for town, which was located up on a hill and had the best view of the refinery. She never even considered the possibility that the explosion could have come from anywhere besides PetroPlex. There had been explosions in town before, and they all came from the same source.
She could see a number of her neighbors, also in their cars, driving hot on her tail. She dialed Joe Bob on his cell phone, but he didn’t answer, which was irritating. It seemed like lately, he never answered her phone calls. This made it mighty hard for her to maintain her position as the go-to girl for all the town gossip. She didn’t have any idea what was going on if her husband wouldn’t give her the scoop.
Really, it was darn inconsiderate of him not to pick up the phone. After all, there had been an explosion! How could he be sure she hadn’t been hurt in it? Didn’t he care at all?
Anna gasped as a thought occurred to her. Maybe he wasn’t picking up his phone because he’d been injured in the explosion. She dialed his cell again. Still no answer. Frantic, she called the courthouse clerk.
“Is Joe Bob in chambers?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“Yes,” the clerk said. “Everything’s fine.”
“Why isn’t he picking up the phone?”
“Hold on,” the clerk said, and presumably ducked around the corner to poke her head into Delmont’s office. “I’m back. He’s on the other line. The phone is ringing off the hook here. I’m sure he’ll call you when he gets a chance.”
Anna wasn’t so sure about that. She thanked the clerk and hung up.
She pulled into the town square, along with a swarm of other rubberneckers who were dying to get a peek at the action without having to get too close to the source of the danger.
Although black smoke and flames shot from the refinery, most of the flames and smoke appeared to be coming from the safety flares that burned off excess chemicals if pressure in the system got too high. She could see a big, black hole in one of the walls, and smoke and flame belched from it periodically. For the most part, the firemen seemed to have the blaze under control already. This was definitely not the worst explosion she’d seen in this town. Most of the activity surrounding the refinery now was from paramedics, who were working to get injured people out of the building.
She looked around for familiar faces and spotted several of her lady friends. However, she didn’t really want to talk to them because they’d be asking her for the details about what happened, and since Joe Bob hadn’t bothered to call her back and fill her in, she didn’t know. She hated feeling so out of the loop.
When she spotted Dick Richardson, though, she didn’t hesitate to shove her way through the crowd toward him. After all, he might know something.
He was holding binoculars to his eyes, trying to catch sight of who they were bringing out of the refinery on stretchers.
She sidled up to him. “Hi, Dick,” she said.
He barely gave her a second glance. Instead, he shoved the binoculars in her face. “Look through here. Is that Jason Wheedly they’re pulling out of there?”
Anna took the binoculars and looked. She recognized the youth, who she knew from church, immediately. “Yep, that’s him,” she said. “Poor thing. He looks pretty tore up.”
Dick nodded and wrote “Jason Wheedly” at the top of his notepad, along with a dollar sign and the notation “300-600k.”
“Who else is coming out of there?” Dick asked.
He sounded frantic. Anna thought it was so nice of him to show such concern for his fellow citizens. She wished Joe Bob would sometimes act like he cared two cents about somebody besides himself. Maybe she should have married a man like Dick instead of marrying Joe Bob. Dick obviously had plenty of money and could have supported her in style, plus he seemed genuinely caring. Here he was, all worried about townspeople he didn’t even know! It was a touching scene.
Anna peered through the binoculars again. “Why, that right there’s Ellie Marvin’s son.”
“What’s his name?” Dick asked eagerly.
“John,” she said. “He’s a nice boy. He married that lovely girl, Julie Carpenter from across the creek.”
Dick grabbed the binoculars. “He looks pretty rough, too.”
Anna watched him scrawl “John Marvin” on his scratch pad, along with some other numerical notations.
“Ain’t you just the sweetest thing,” she said to Dick.
“Oh yeah?” Dick said, the binoculars pressed once again to his face. “Why’s that?”
“It’s just so nice to see a man taking such an interest in the community. It’s a wonder you’re still single. I can’t believe some woman hasn’t already snatched you up.”
Anna appraised Dick and thought that he might be a good match for her friend, Widow Schumacher. Widow Judy Schumacher was short, just like Dick, and she had a strong personality, too. Plus, she had expensive tastes, and Anna knew the widow’s life insurance policy was darn near about to give out. It’d be good to get her hitched up to someone who could take care of her like Dick could. It seemed somehow unnatural for a man and a woman not to be enjoying the sanctity of marriage together when there was no reason to prevent it.
Dick kept dialing Chief Scott’s number on the cell phone, but just like Joe Bob, Chief Scott wasn’t answering.
“Do you know how all this happened?” Anna asked.
“I would if that good-for-nothing Chief Scott would pick up his gol-darned phone,” Dick said. “Worthless S.O.B.”
“Joe Bob ain’t answering his phone either,” Anna said.
“I’ll bet he’s not.” Dick pressed the binoculars to his eyes again and squinted, forming little fleshy mounds around the eyepieces. “You know this guy?” He passed the binoculars to Anna again.
“Sure enough,” Anna said, and filled him in on the details. They went through the binocular exchange routine a few more times, with Anna confirming the names of injury victims and Dick making notations.
Just then, Anna heard somebody calling her name.
Speak of the devil! She turned around to find Widow Schumacher waving at her. Anna motioned for her to come on over.
“How’d all this happen?” the widow’s cheeks were flushed with all the excitement, and Anna decided that made her appear pretty attractive. It would be the perfect time to introduce her to Dick. And then who knew what might happen? They might fall in love and live happily ever after, just like she and Joe Bob had!
“I’m not sure yet,” Anna said, “but this here’s the man to tell you.” She tugged on Dick’s arm to get his attention. “Dick, this here’s Judy Schumacher. I been meaning to introduce you two for some time.”
This was obviously a lie, as the idea had just occurred to her, but it seemed like it wouldn’t hurt anything if she’d said so. “Judy’s a widow, so she’s single just like you,” Anna told Dick.
Dick glanced back over his shoulder at the refinery. “Is that so?” he said.
“I was thinking I might invite you two over for dinner with me and Joe Bob one night next week. How does that sound?”
Dick backed away. “I’d love to, he said, but my case load is about to get really busy.”
“Well, what about right now?” Anna asked. “You’re not doing anything but standing out here rubbernecking with the rest of us! Let’s head over to Caliente and get acquainted.”
“Sure, sure,” Dick said. “It’s just that I gotta get to the hospital.” He cleared his throat. “Right now,” he added. With that, he turned and fled.
Widow Schumacher looked flabbergasted.
“Oh, don’t take it the wrong way,” Anna said. “He’s such a good man. You should have seen the way he was fussing over everyone who got carried out of there. For the life of me, I never seen a man who cared so much about the good of other people.”
She’d set up a dinner later.
CHAPTER 27
Miles wan
ted to stop by his house to pick up some fresh clothes and his special designer shaving cream, but Cameron and Nash convinced him that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.
In the end, we decided to set up shop in Gracie Miller’s root cellar. Since my client was M.I.A. and probably wasn’t returning any time soon, it seemed like as good a place as any. Plus, if she did unexpectedly return, I’d be able to deliver Dorian’s settlement offer the minute she walked in the door.
Gracie had her root cellar pretty well equipped as a storm shelter. Canned food was stashed everywhere, and there were even cots for when hurricanes came through and spun off tornadoes. The door to the root cellar was hidden behind a wood shed and wasn’t visible from the street. Anybody who might be looking for it would have to know it was there. The only reason I knew it was there was because Derrick had been working down there one day when he collapsed. Gracie had called the hospital, then she had called me.
We got electricity from an old generator Gracie had in the shed above-ground. Of course, Cameron knew how to turn it on and make sure it kept working. He set up his computer network, hacked into PetroPlex again, and we were back in business.
“Check this out,” Cameron said, pulling up a string of documents that had my name scattered throughout. “PetroPlex was corresponding about you, which is why I thought you had the tapes.”
I scanned the documents. Chloe Taylor. . . evidence. . . Schaeffer. . . threat. . . recover. . . eliminate. . . all words that didn’t bode well for me.
“What about me?” Miles asked. “Anything about me?”
Cameron ran a quick and dirty search for Miles’ name. Nothing came up. Then he ran a search for “Taylor’s paralegal” and got all kinds of hits.
“Great,” Miles said. “I never knew my name was ‘Taylor’s paralegal.’ I feel like I have a whole new identity now.”
I patted him on the back, jovially. “Look at it this way. At least you still have your house and your car.”
“Yeah, but not my hair,” he said. “I maybe would trade my house and car for my hair. Especially right now, seeing as how I’m not using either of them.”
“Well, nobody’s looking at your hair right now either except for us, and we like you anyway.” I stuck my hand out and massaged his crown. “Even though you have that really weird bump right there that makes you look like a conehead.”
Miles moaned. “Don’t hate on the bump. That’s brain in there. A big brain.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think you might just be a bonehead.” I punched him playfully in the arm, and he went over to lie on a cot and sulk. Lucy followed him and curled up on his stomach.
Nash was concerned with more important things. He leaned over Cameron, staring into his computer screen. “Can you pull up anything that might relate to the tapes?”
“I’ve been reading through stuff for days,” Cameron said. “The amount of documents these guys generate on a daily basis would suffocate a horse. They know Schaeffer had something on them, but they’re not sure what, and they don’t seem to know about the tapes. I don’t think they’re aware of the mole or that any recordings were made at all.”
“What makes you think that?” Nash asked.
“There are no hits on a search for ‘recordings’ or ‘tapes,’ and I’ve been reading all the executive level correspondence for weeks. I haven’t noticed any kind of obscure references to any recordings of any kind. The only thing I can find is a few references to Schaeffer’s files.”
“Anything that specifically orders a recovery?” I asked.
“No,” Cameron said. “But I didn’t know about the connections with all the local officials until you guys told me your story today. The good news there is that PetroPlex uses a digital IP PBX phone system.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling like I should know what that meant, but again, I had no clue.
“That means I can hack into the phone system and retrieve the phone records,” Cameron explained.
“Cool.” Sounded good to me, even if I wasn’t exactly sure how it worked.
Nash sat down in front of another computer. “Let me see if my login to the City of Kettle’s system still works.” He typed a few characters, paused, and typed some more. “Yep,” he said. “They never were very good at staying on top of their computer network. Most of the guys at the department wouldn’t know a computer from a hole in the ground.”
“It could be a trap,” Cameron said, alarmed. “They could be waiting for you to log in so they can trace your IP address.”
“Trust me, not gonna happen,” Nash said. “I’ve seen the way they operate down there, and it takes a week to get a new email account set up. They are simply not equipped.”
Cameron didn’t look so sure. “Just hurry up and log out as soon as you can. Maybe nobody will notice a little activity blip.”
Nash did some fast typing, printed out a list of phone numbers, and logged off.
He handed the list to Cameron. “Here are the phone numbers for the mayor, the police chief, and Judge Joe Bob Delmont. We know for sure they are involved in some kind of local conspiracy. Can you cross reference them against PetroPlex’s database?”
Cameron nodded eagerly and went to work. Before long, he had a list of times and dates pulled up. There were at least a hundred calls to and from Delmont and the refinery president in the last week. There were half as many to Mayor Fillion, and a handful to Chief Scott. The calls to Chief Scott were all placed within the last three days, which was interesting.
“Can you pull up the actual phone calls?” Nash asked.
Cameron shook his head. “I’ve already scanned for sound files and didn’t find anything relevant.”
“So how does this help us?” I asked. “From where I sit, all I can see is that we’ve confirmed what we already knew before—PetroPlex is dirty, and so are Delmont, Fillion, and Scott. So what? Now what? What about the mole? You said Schaeffer had an inside guy. Haven’t your scans turned up anything on this guy or any other leads on the tapes at all?”
Cameron shook his head again. “No. As far as I can tell, PetroPlex is not aware they have a mole. And like I said, I’m not sure they know about the tapes either. I only know what I read on the network, so if they don’t know, I don’t know. “
“One more reason why Schaeffer was key,” I said.
A snoring symphony wafted from the cot in the corner. Lucy and Miles were both sleeping up a storm.
“How can he sleep at a time like this?” Nash asked.
I shrugged. I couldn’t say I blamed them. I knew I, for one, was plenty tired. “Losing hair is stressful,” I said. “Maybe he just needed some rest.”
“It’ll grow back,” Nash said. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Yeah, but you’re a straight guy,” I said. “You wouldn’t understand. Anyway, back to the problem at hand. To sum up, a bunch of people are dead, my house is gone, my car is destroyed, we’re in hiding, and PetroPlex is hunting us all because they think we have something we don’t. And to top it all off, there’s no one to call for help, thanks to the APB our friendly local law enforcement put out. Where does that leave us?”
“With two options,” Cameron said.
“Find the mole or find the tapes,” Nash finished.
“Yep.” Cameron leaned back from the computer, interlaced his fingers, and stretched his hands over his head. “That means some of us have to leave the hole.” He looked pointedly at Nash and me.
“I’m not going back out there,” I said.
Typically, I don’t think of myself as a coward, but the thought of more car chases, more bullets, more potential torture, and more killings had me scared. I had already lost so much. I didn’t want to lose the only things I had left—my health and my life. And if I never witnessed another shooting again, well, that would be okay with me, too.
I forced myself to ignore a wave of nausea as visions of the two men I had killed finagled themselves onto my mental movie screen. I wonde
red how long it would be before that particular film stopped showing in my mind.
Nash put his hand on my shoulder. “Chloe, we have to find the tapes. It’s the only way forward. We can’t stay in Gracie’s root cellar forever.”
“I can stay here and continue scanning the network,” Cameron said. “Maybe something will turn up. In the meantime, it would be a good idea to go search Schaeffer’s house. Maybe you’ll find something.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve been over it pretty thoroughly before and didn’t find anything.”
Nash’s grip on my shoulder tightened.
“Hypothetically, I mean.” I sighed.
“Hypothetically my arse,” Nash said.
“So are you arresting me?” I looked up into his eyes. Instead of finding the usual unreadable mask, I saw something akin to affection. Or was that my imagination? My heart skipped a beat.
“Not today,” he said.
“Well, that’s something, I guess.” I turned to look at Miles and Lucy sleeping on the cot. It was past 11:00 P.M. I would have given my right arm to sleep right now, too. It had been a very long twenty-four hours. “Should we wake them up?”
“No,” Nash said, looking at his watch and yawning. “I think we can handle this one on our own.”
CHAPTER 28
Under cover of darkness, we returned to Schaeffer’s house. We parked around the block and walked through the alleyways to his back door. The house was still surrounded with crime scene tape. Schaeffer tried the doorknob.
“Locked.” He stood still and looked at me.
“What are you looking at me for?” I asked.
“Haven’t you got a key?” he said.
I shook my head.
He raised one eyebrow.
I sighed. “Gimme your credit card, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Nash rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet, handing me a Visa Platinum. “That’s my good card,” he said. “Don’t ruin it.”
“I’ll do my best.”