He glanced at Olivia, straightened, and smiled. “Well then, why don’t you show me what you have.”
We pulled out the full color map of Michigan with its green dots for oil wells and red dots for gas wells. Professor Timmons turned the map toward him and said, “So we’re talking about Michigan again, I see. Okay. What you have here is a map from the State that shows the location of the active oil and gas wells in a given year.”
“I didn’t know Michigan was that big of an oil and gas state,” said Olivia.
“More than you’d think,” said Professor Timmons. He scowled in thought as he ran his finger over the map, scanning its contents, before he looked up and smiled. “So what did you want to know?”
“Can you tell if there’s going to be oil on land before you drill?”
He smiled. “If you knew that, you’d be a very rich man, or woman, indeed. This isn’t my specialty, you know my thing about moraines, but companies have become pretty good at figuring out the sort of formations that have a good chance of holding oil. Whether they actually hit it…” He shrugged. “Usually the best indicator is another producing well nearby.”
I leaned over and pointed at the line of green wells that extended north and east of the Mack property. “Like this?”
Professor Timmons nodded. “The Albion-Skip-N-Go Trend. Exactly like that.”
I blinked. “The what?”
“The Albion Skip-N-Go Trend.”
I wasn't sure I was hearing him correctly. “The gas station?”
Professor Timmons stared at me now. “What are you talking about?”
“The Albion Skip-N-Go? The gas station in Albion on I-94?”
Professor Timmons’ brow furrowed and then he laughed. “No, no, no. Albion-Scipio. S-C-I-P-I-O. It's the name of the interconnected formations that created the trend you see here.”
Between names I didn't understand, trends, and maps, I was jealous of Olivia’s reflective glasses. I finally just shook my head and said, “I'm sorry, Professor Timmons, I really don't understand what you're talking about.”
Professor Timmons waved his hand. “Of course you don't. I'm starting from the middle. Do you see this line of oil wells?” He pointed at the green line we’d been talking about northeast of the Mack Farm.
“I do.”
“That's called the Albion-Scipio Trend. It’s not one big field. Instead, it's a series of narrow oilfields that run together. Most of them are less than a mile wide. When you put them all together, it creates a ‘trend.’”
“So the individual fields are small?” said Olivia.
“I think narrow is a better word. Small makes you think these aren’t productive.”
“They are?” I said.
Professor Timmons nodded. “The first of these was discovered in the 1950s. It outproduced any other field that had been discovered in the State before then.”
I remembered a recent case of mine. “Is this fracking?”
Professor Timmons shook his head. “No. That’s one of the things that makes them so productive. There are hundreds of regular flowing wells along this Trend that don't require fracking at all.”
“And these wells are still producing?” Olivia asked.
“I’m not sure. I think so.”
“Are they still looking for new wells?”
He shrugged. “I’m sorry, I just know the rocks. I don’t know how things are being developed now. You’ll probably have to ask an oil man about that.”
I planned on it. “Okay, so from a rocks perspective, is this Albion-Scipio Trend limited to what we can see here?” I pointed at the green line.
Professor Timmons pursed his lips and studied the map. “My understanding is that its area is pretty well-defined. See these?” He indicated a series of yellow dots all around the Trend. “These are dry holes. You can see where they tried to drill just outside the Trend and came up with nothing.”
“So what about over here?” I put my finger on the spot on the map where the Mack farm would be. “Would property here be part of the Trend?”
Professor Timmons’ frown deepened and, eventually, he shook his head. “Remember, the Trend is only a little over a mile wide. You're miles away, south and west, there. That land wouldn’t be part of the Albion-Scipio Trend at all. You can see the yellow dots around there too.”
“But what if I were an aggressive oilman?” I said. “Would it be worth trying to drill in these areas?”
He smiled. “You'd have to ask an aggressive oilman. I’m the rocks guy.”
We all stared at the map for another moment before Professor Timmons said, “So does this have something to do with one of your cases?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t look like it.”
“A landowner then?”
My thoughts were on trends and dry holes and mispronunciations. “Hmm? Oh, no. I know someone who encountered some interest once but it was some time ago. Nothing recent.”
“They probably found this map in the meantime. So nothing I can help with, on a case?”
“I think that’s it, Professor.”
Professor Timmons looked disappointed. “Ah, well. Maybe next time.”
I stood and said, “I really appreciate you meeting with us today.”
Professor Timmons practically sprang to his feet and smiled. “Of course. And remember if you ever need a geologist on one of your cases…”
I smiled. “I know one who is rock solid.”
Oliva winced.
“You certainly do. Ms. Brickson,”—he shook her hand—“it was certainly a pleasure to meet you. I don't know if you ever need the services of a geologist, but please don't hesitate to call me.”
“Thanks, Eli,” she said, and Professor Timmons’ smile broadened when she used his first name.
We were on the way out when Olivia stopped and pointed at his credenza. “That’s beautiful. What is it?”
A polished stone the size of a fist sat on a small pedestal on his shelf. It was a stunning blue. “Ah, it’s lapis lazuli.” Professor Timmons hustled around to the shelf. “The symphony gave it to me for being a Premier Patron.” He pointed at some engraving on the pedestal. “It’s getting harder and harder for them to survive. If music wasn’t written in the last five years, people don’t want to hear it.”
Next to the symphony gift, a rough white and gray stone was suspended in a glass case. “And what’s that?” I said.
“That’s an uncut diamond.”
I peered closer at the engraving on the bottom. “The Diamond Mine?”
Professor Timmons smiled. “It’s a casino over near Dowagiac. A man found a diamond about that size back in the 1800s.”
“My brother and sister-in-law were just talking about that, said they went on a casino trip that had diamond hunting as part of the package.”
Professor Timmons nodded. “When the glaciers covered Michigan, they pushed all sorts of things down here, including diamonds, so that when they retreated and the moraines were left…” He stopped, looking a little embarrassed. “I’m doing it again.”
“No, it’s interesting,” said Olivia.
“Not to most people. My wife and I will go over for a weekend sometimes and talk to groups or show them what an uncut diamond would look like if they found one. The casino gave me that as a gift.”
“Do people find any?”
“No. But they have a great time at the casino and I get to look at moraines up close. It’s a fun trip. If either of you are ever interested, in the casino trip or the symphony, my wife and I would love to have you as our guests.”
“Thanks, Eli,” Olivia said.
Professor Timmons beamed.
“And if I ever need that moraines expert…” I shook his hand.
“You absolutely know who to call.”
With that, the two of us walked out of the office and then a short time later, the Earth Sciences building.
“Rock solid?” Olivia said as we left.
“That kind o
f humor is the bedrock of daily interaction.”
“Jesus.”
“You don’t have to be so crusty about it.”
“You might want to save that for the geology convention.”
“I’m ready to take up that mantle.”
She sighed.
As we got to the Jeep, I said, “So, what do you think? Could Abby have heard Albion-Scipio instead of Albion Skip-N-Go?”
“You confused the two, and you hadn’t just tumbled down a flight of stairs.”
I shook my head. “I've lived here all my life and never heard that name. Who in the world besides a geologist has ever heard of the Albion-Scipio Trend?”
“I’d bet an oilman has.”
I nodded. “Especially one who has negotiated leases in the area.”
Olivia nodded and pulled a strand of her bangs down around her glasses. “What’s next?”
“I think there's a prosecutor we want to compare notes with.”
22
We went back to my office and gave T. Marvin Stritch a call from the conference room. He answered right away.
“Nate, you got my disclosure about the DNA?”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I sent you the summary report. You’ll have the full report by the end of the day.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“I assume you called to start discussions about a plea deal then. We can offer—”
“No, T. Marvin. I called to see if you would slow things down in light of some new information.”
Silence. Then, “What are you talking about?”
This was a risk but, when in doubt, sometimes the best course is to just put it out there for the other side without any lawyer layers on it. So I did. I told him about the sabotage to the Mack’s farm and the inconclusive investigation. I told him how Hillside Oil had come calling shortly after and that the Macks had rejected its offer. I told him that Hillside Oil had been able to buy drilling rights all up and down that part of the county but not in the Macks’ corner.
There was more silence before T. Marvin Stritch said, “Nate, I don’t see how that's relevant at all.”
“Do you remember Abby Ackerman’s statement?”
“Of course.”
“What she said her attacker said before he tried to kill her?”
“Yes.” There was a pause, then, “She heard him say ‘It has more gas than the Albion Skip-N-Go.’”
“That's right.”
“So?”
“So, we’ve since learned that there's an oil field, excuse me an oil trend, called the Albion-Scipio not far from here.”
“And?”
“And it's one of the richest oil finds in lower Michigan.”
“I'm still not seeing the relevance here, Nate.”
“It just seems that that fact is something that a representative of an oil company, like say Hillside Oil & Gas, would know.”
“There is no evidence that there was anyone other than your client on the stairs with Abby Ackerman that night.”
“Actually, there’s no evidence that my client was on the stairs with Abby that night at all, there’s just evidence that he was there at some point. Look, I’m not asking you to drop the case, yet, T. Marvin. I’m just saying maybe it should slow down so you can check these things out. Just to make sure.”
There was the smallest pause then T. Marvin Stritch spoke in crisp, quick sentences. “I appreciate your candor, Nate. Let me do you the same courtesy. We have video showing Mr. Mack going to and from the back part of the Quarry at the time of the attack. We have plenty of witnesses placing him at the concert, although I don't think most of them are necessary. We have blood on the top of the stair railing that matches his DNA with 99.978 certainty. We have video of him at the gas station immediately afterwards washing the blood off his hand and replacing his bandage. And I haven’t had a chance to send you the last thing we’ve found because we’re still finishing testing, but you’ve been up front with me, so I’ll be up front with you.”
Silence. Finally, I said, “What did you find?”
“Silk.”
“Silk? Abby was wearing silk?”
“No. She was wearing cotton. It was corn silk.”
“Corn silk?” I said. “The tufts of hair on the end of an ear of corn?”
“Exactly.”
“So?”
“So, corn has DNA too. It doesn’t take that much to send it off for testing to see if the silk matches the seed in corn that’s purchased on a given farm. Say a farm in the northeast corner of Ash County.”
“Are you saying the silk matches the corn in the Macks’ field?”
“No, I’m saying it matches the corn in Archibald Mack’s field.”
Corn? I wasn’t sure what was worse, the sudden possibility that my case was getting torpedoed by an ear of corn or the self-satisfaction in T. Marvin Stritch’s voice as he said it. A thought occurred to me about how to address this new corn conundrum, but I decided to save it; it was clear this call wasn’t going to make this case go away, or even slow down.
I had to admit that, in the face of all that, our theory did seem weaker. Except for one thing. “I’m still not hearing any motive, T. Marvin.”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Then Stritch said, “Your client hasn’t told you?”
There is nothing good that follows that sentence. Ever.
“Told me what?”
“I’m sorry, Nate, I assumed you knew. I told you, I’m very upfront about how I handle cases.”
“Told me what, T. Marvin?”
“Your client called his brother Hamish from the back of the Quarry right before the attack. They argued.”
“About what?”
“Seems like that’s something you should ask your client. The important thing is that Abby was mentioned.”
“How?”
“Again, that’s information your client has.”
I remembered Mrs. Mack mentioning that Archie and Hamish had fought at the hospital and not knowing why Hamish was mad. I think I’d just found out why.
I came to the original purpose of my call, but it sounded weak even to me as I said, “Have you considered that it could've been someone else?”
“I've been doing this a long time, Nate. Twenty years this coming November, ten of them working under Judge Wesley who was about as methodical and perceptive as they come. She used to say that when all the spokes lead to one place, you've got yourself a wheel and you need to roll with it.” He paused. “Archibald Mack is Abby Ackerman’s wheel.”
“All I’m saying is that we should take a little time to double check.”
T. Marvin Stritch’s voice was pleasant but cold when he said, “I think we’ll roll with it.”
Then he said goodbye and we hung up.
23
Olivia and I were done for the day. Danny had left while we were on the phone with Stritch, so I locked up and drove her back to the Brickhouse. I took great delight in letting her shame me for not working out before pulling out my gym bag and walking in with her. She said she was glad that I hadn't completely lost my conscience and went to the back to teach one of her boot camp classes. I changed, and when I came out of the locker room, I saw that Cade was just getting going too.
It's hard to imagine that you can forget about a six foot four, two hundred sixty pound man but I had. Cade and I had worked out a lot together when we were younger, but now with our work schedules, it was a rare occurrence. I walked over to the bench he was setting up and said, “You just getting going?”
He nodded.
I pointed at the rack. “You want a partner today?”
“No, thanks. Sort of half-training somebody today.”
I smiled. “Don't tell Olivia. She won't one abide any ‘half training.’”
Cade smiled. “She will not. Should've said more of an introduction to training.”
I nodded. “You eating after?”
“I could eat.”
/>
“The Railcar?”
“You got it. About an hour and a half?”
“Sounds good. I'll meet you then.”
Just then Danny came in the front door. He was looking around, a little lost. I made my way over.
“Hey,” I said. “Looking for me?”
Danny looked a little sheepish. “No. I was looking for Cade.”
I realized then that he was wearing running pants and a T-shirt instead of a suit. I smiled, put a hand on his shoulder, and said, “You’re going to have to tell me how this happened.”
“You remember that potential assault case Pearson was looking into against him?”
I don’t know how I’d forgotten about my friend dismantling three men, but I had. “Yes.”
“I got out in front of it and called Jeff Hanson over at the prosecutor’s office. He took one look at the video and said there was no way he was bringing charges.”
“Nice work!”
“Thanks.”
“And this led to a workout…?”
Danny looked chagrined. “I made the mistake of telling Cade I was thinking about starting.”
I shook my head. “Bad move, my friend.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“It could’ve been worse.”
“How?”
“You could’ve mentioned it to Olivia.”
Right on cue, music and yelling started in the back of the gym.
Danny stared. “I think you may be right.”
I followed his gaze to a couple of guys squatting a bunch of weight at one rack while two women absolutely killed an alternating box jump. I saw him thinking, so I said, “Everyone respects you for being here. Have fun.” Then I smiled. “And just because you can't get out of bed tomorrow morning doesn't mean that you’re excused from work.”
Danny glanced at me sharply, then shook his head and made his way over to Cade, who shook his hand and then put him to work. I did my own thing, and I’d be lying if I said I didn't sneak a glance at him now and then.
Danny struggled here and there balancing the weight, which is common the first time, but he never stopped and he never quit and he did a great job.
An hour and a half later, Cade and I were sitting at the Railcar. It's a low brick building that sits on an abandoned section of track that runs alongside a creek that was once used to refill steam engines. It has an outdoor covered patio overlooking the water and the woods beyond and if that wasn't great enough, it was also home to the best barbecue in that part of the state. The sound of the stream and the smell of hickory smoke and the taste of the beer will almost always make you feel better about things.
Blind Conviction (Nate Shepherd Legal Thriller Series Book 3) Page 12