Tortoise Soup (Rachel Porter Mysteries)

by Jessica Speart

  A flash of silver caught my eye and I zoomed in with the glasses. It was Brian, standing amidst a buzz of activity. Hovering close by loomed the unmistakable figure of Commissioner Ed Garrett.

  “Here’s something interesting: It looks like Garrett’s involved with whatever is going on down there,” I commented. Brian and Garrett disappeared behind the flow of trucks going in and out of the mine.

  “Bingo! That’s it!” Noah snatched the binoculars from my hands. “You just put the missing pieces together, Red. I’ll bet you Frank Sinatra’s fur coat this whole thing’s been nothing but a scam from the start. Golden Shaft must be in cahoots with Alpha Development,” he crowed.

  As far as I was concerned, Frank could keep his coat—as long as it was some place far from me. “What would Alpha and Golden Shaft be doing together?” I asked, knowing there had to be more to the punch line.

  “Listen, Porter. What’s at a premium, making it more valuable than almost anything else in this county?” Noah waited for an answer.

  “Land?” I ventured, guessing it had to be either that or water.

  “That’s right,” Noah beamed, pleased with his only pupil. “It’s valuable because the government owns almost all of it. Add onto that the fact that this area is going great guns, with more and more people moving in every day. And what does that mean?” He looked at me expectantly.

  “A housing shortage,” I instantly responded.

  “You got it! And what’s the easiest and cheapest way to get property out of the government’s hands?” Noah tossed me the question as if it were a ball.

  “Have something like a mining company patent the land?” I tossed it back.

  “That’s right. Go to the head of the class.” Noah gave me a high five. “Shit, a mine like the Shaft can buy miles of it from the government for close to nothing! All they have to cough up is a measly five dollars an acre. And once they’ve got that patent, a mining company can legally turn around and sell that same property for up to thirty thousand dollars an acre right here in the Vegas area. That’s when scum like Alpha moves in and chops it up into tiny little lots. Before you know it, they’re slapping structures down on top of each other and getting up to a half a million bucks a pop for a house.”

  Noah beat out a rhythm on his stomach, playing his skin like a bongo. “The mining company turns a profit, the developers are happy as pigs in slop, and Clark County continues rolling in the dough. Everyone’s reaped a huge profit. Except for the government, of course, which has been royally ripped off. Meaning you and me, compadre.”

  What Noah said made sense.

  “That may very well be true. But while it would be sleazy on Golden Shaft’s part, none of it is illegal.”

  “You’re one hundred percent correct, Porter. Just unethical. Still, I’d love to see the bastards thrown behind bars to rot in jail,” Noah grimly replied.

  “The management at Golden Shaft probably just consider themselves to be smart entrepreneurs,” I observed. I wondered if Annie’s claims had also been thrown into the mix.

  “Entrepreneurs, entremanures,” Noah muttered, handing the glasses back to me.

  I took another long look at Brian. “He knows who you are, you know.”

  “Who’s that?” Noah asked distractedly.

  Brian looked good even from a distance. “Brian Anderson. He mentioned you once and advised me to stay away.”

  “Oh, yeah? And why is that? ’Cause I’m better looking than him?” Noah joked.

  I watched as Garrett and Brian huddled together. “I’m not sure why. But he seemed to know about your run-in at Los Alamos.”

  “Let me see those binoculars again.” Noah pointed them in Anderson’s direction. “I know I’m a popular boy. But I didn’t realize my background had been that well advertised.”

  I turned away from the mine to see what Pilot was up to. He was nowhere in sight. I walked back to the Suburban and checked if he was resting inside, but the van was empty. I wanted to call out his name but stopped myself, afraid that the sound would carry. I was beginning to worry—it was as if he had vanished into thin air. I grabbed my own pair of binoculars and scanned the horizon.

  Then I spotted him. He had made his way down off the mountain top and was scurrying after a jackrabbit, which escaped his relentless pursuit by popping through the fence surrounding the mine. I watched as Pilot ferociously began to dig, his front paws burrowing a hole alongside the fence as fast as they could.

  “What the hell?”

  The sharpness in Noah’s voice caught my attention. I turned back toward him, raising my binoculars in the direction in which he pointed. Brian was walking beside an enormous flatbed truck that carried a large steel canister.

  “Jesus, that guy gives me the willies,” Noah remarked, never lowering his glasses.

  “Why is that?” Maybe Noah had some male insight into Brian that I was lacking.

  Noah slowly shook his head. “That’s what gets me. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  We studied the scene for a few more minutes. Then I swung the binoculars back toward Pilot, determined to get his attention. But the dog was no longer there. A fresh gully of dirt snaked its way under the fence just deep enough for Pilot to squeeze through.

  I quickly scanned the area, my stomach clenching tightly into a knot. Pilot must have managed to dig his way onto Golden Shaft’s grounds, where he was now hidden among the hubbub.

  “I’m going down to the mine,” I abruptly announced.

  Noah turned and looked at me in surprise. “What are you talking about? You’ve got a sudden yen to play storm trooper and breach the fort?”

  I silently cursed myself for not having kept the dog in my sight. “It’s Pilot. He dug a hole under the mine fence and got in. I have to get him out.”

  “What are you, crazy? You can’t just burst in there looking for your dog!”

  A surge of frustration shot through me. “Like hell I can’t! Just try and stop me.”

  I headed for the van, jumped into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine as Noah scrambled in beside me.

  “Shit, Porter. What are you trying to do? Get us shot?” Noah wailed.

  “Hey, you wanted a game of hide and seek. Now you’ve got one. First we hid. Now I’m seeking,” I answered with determination.

  The van screamed as I threw the gear into forward motion, its tires grasping for traction in the storm of pebbles that flew into the air. I wheeled the Suburban back onto the dirt path and headed down toward the mine.

  “What the hell are you going to say? That you were out here sightseeing?” Noah hugged his arms around his chest as his heels dug into the floorboard.

  “Brian knows about the pipe-bombing at my place. I’ll say I came by so that he wouldn’t worry. What are you so nervous about, anyway?” I asked, gunning the engine.

  “There’s something about this mine that’s sending warning flares up my spine. And when that happens, I’ve learned to listen. I don’t like this, Porter. I don’t like it at all,” Noah fumed.

  I wasn’t particularly thrilled about it myself. But if Pilot was on the mine grounds, I wanted him off. I felt sick as I remembered Dee’s story about her dog. There was already the possibility that I’d lost Santou from my life. I didn’t plan on losing Pilot as well.

  Three guards and their guns swiftly surrounded the Suburban as we drove up to the gate. I recognized one of the men as the security guard I’d encountered before, and directed my attention to him.

  “Hi. Remember me?” I gave my best sixty-watt smile. “I’m here to see Brian Anderson. Mind letting me in?”

  But there was no nonchalant wave through, as there had been on my last go-around.

  “What’s your business?” he asked, his expression as blank and unreadable as the other two hulks who stood watching us closely.

  I decided to go for what little weight I had. “I’m an agent with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. It’s important that I speak with Mr. Anderson.�
��

  But the guard didn’t budge. “He’s busy today. His orders are that no one is to be allowed in.”

  “He’ll see me,” I insisted. “Just tell him I’m here.” Yeah, me and Cindy, and Sharon Stone might do the trick.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” he calmly intoned. “You’ll have to turn around and leave, please.”

  He shifted the M-16 in his arms, his finger resting lightly on the trigger. The two other guards followed suit.

  My fist came down hard on the van’s horn, the blast of noise causing Noah to jump in his seat. The three M-16s immediately swung into action, ready to blow us away. I slowly raised my fist off the horn, and a deadly silence engulfed us.

  “Good going, Porter,” Noah whispered, his voice tightly constricted in his throat.

  Brian turned and looked our way from off in the distance. He stood still for a moment and then, waving his hand, motioned us in. The guards immediately backed away with smart military precision.

  “I told you I’d get in,” I remarked, silently giving thanks to the gods of Sharon and Cindy.

  “Yeah. You just forgot to add the part about dead or alive,” Noah hissed.

  Brian’s eyes were dark and hard, his gaze plastered on Noah. He walked over to the van and leaned down toward me with a smile that contained all the warmth of an iceberg about to greet the Titanic.

  “What are you doing here, Rachel? I thought you were tied up for a couple of days,” he said, his voice tight and edgy.

  I wondered what had become of the man who’d been so anxious to see me. “My schedule loosened up. Besides, you sounded so worried the other day that I decided to stop by.”

  Noah chimed in before Brian could respond. “Yeah, any little worry tends to put a crimp in her day. But what’s going on here? Has the Golden Shaft finished shafting Nevada so soon?”

  I could have throttled him. Instead, I gave a small shrug. “Brian, meet Noah Gorfine.”

  Brian’s picture-perfect features turned their attention onto the shambles of the man sitting next to me. “So you’re one of the people who lives in that ark.”

  “Yep, that’s me.” Noah nodded enthusiastically. “As I was saying, it looks like you’re clearing out of here. What gives?”

  It was obvious that whatever was going on, Brian was frazzled. The tension that sprang off the man nearly crackled in the air. Then, almost imperceptibly, Brian took a breath and consciously relaxed as he smiled. “We’re just moving operations down to another area. We’ve got plenty to do here yet.”

  “Well, you guys sure make one hell of a racket,” Noah chattered on amiably. “Would you mind keeping the noise down? In fact, maybe you can have those ’copters of yours make their runs during the day. Those damn things keep me up all night. Gotta get my beauty sleep, you know.” Brian’s fingers tightened their grip on the door frame, turning the crescents of his nails pearly white.

  “You must be seeing UFOs, my friend. We have no need for helicopters here at the mine,” Brian briskly informed him.

  Then he turned his attention back to me, markedly cutting off Noah. “Sorry, Rachel. But I’m really very busy right now, though I do need to talk to you.” The tips of his fingers brushed lightly along the crook of my elbow. “And believe me, I am relieved you’re all right. How about I give you a call in a few days, and we’ll get together then?”

  He sounded so harried that I wondered if there really might be a good explanation for what was going on.

  I had little time to ruminate, as a ten-gallon Stetson pushed its way into my view. I’d nearly forgotten that Ed Garrett was on the grounds. His light tan suit was sprinkled with a fine layer of dust, as were his lizardskin boots. A bolo tie was held in place by a chunk of turquoise the size of a meatball.

  “Hey there, Porter. What are you up to? Out here to rile up the miners?” Garrett’s toothy smile jarred with the darkly severe face that stared at me.

  “No way—I can’t compete with you, Ed. I understand you’re down here like clockwork flogging that county supremacy proposal of yours,” I sweetly replied.

  Garrett gave a belly laugh before slapping a hand down hard on Brian’s shoulder. “Sounds like there’s an informer in your ranks, Anderson. Guess we’ll just have to line ’em all up and start shooting till someone breaks down and talks.”

  His eyes came to rest on Noah, who was twisted around in his seat grabbing a beer. I felt it only fitting that Garrett should meet the man he’d branded the primary culprit behind the tortoise thefts.

  “You know Noah Gorfine, don’t you Commissioner?” I sat back and waited for the reaction.

  Noah threw him a beer. “Here ya go, Ed. Have one on me. You too, Anderson.”

  Brian’s beer went flying past his head, landing on the desert floor.

  Noah took a sip of his Bud and smacked his lips. “Hey, Commissioner. I’ve got a complaint to make: I hear someone’s been taking my name in vain. They’ve got some angry yahoo ranchers believing I’ve been dumping stolen tortoises on their leased land. Got any idea who that could be? I plan to sue.”

  Noah grinned and raised his can of Bud in salute, his middle finger standing straight up at attention.

  The smile vanished off Garrett’s face. Without a word, he turned on his heels and stiffly walked away.

  Brian studiously ignored Noah, his face somber and drawn, as he leaned in quickly toward me. “I’ve got to run, Rachel. But I’ll give you a call soon.”

  My hand shot up, gripping his wrist with more force than I had intended. “Wait a minute, Brian. Pilot got out of the van on our way here. The last I saw he was digging a hole under the mine fence. Do you think I could make a quick search for him?”

  Brian distractedly patted my hand. “Sorry to hear that, Rachel. But there’s been no report of a runaway dog in here. He’s probably outside somewhere.”

  Annoyed at the brush-off, I pointedly chose to ignore it as I continued to press my case.

  “This just happened. No one would have had time to report it yet. I’m just asking for a few minutes to explore the area,” I badgered him.

  Brian glanced away, following Garrett’s retreating form. “This is a bad day, Rachel. You can see how crazy it is around here. Listen, I’ll keep my eyes open for him. If anyone finds him, I promise to give you a call.”

  I loosened my grip but kept hold of his arm. “Not good enough, Brian. I want to get him now. He could get hurt in all this commotion. What’s the harm in letting me scout around?”

  A wariness crept into Brian’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.

  “Sorry, but I can’t let you do that. It’s against policy rules for visitors to roam unaccompanied, with all the heavy equipment around. And right now there’s no one to spare.” He looked pointedly at me. “There was a recent theft in the freezer room, and management’s come down hard. That means no exceptions—even for you. Pilot will turn up eventually. Besides, if he’s in here, he’s safe.”

  I shook my head in disagreement. “That’s just it. He’s not safe at all.” I was damned if I’d play the good girl and meekly go home. “There was a dog that was shot while wandering around Golden Shaft’s grounds. I’m not going to let that happen to Pilot.”

  Brian zoomed in on me with the precision of a top gun jet pilot. “Who told you that?” he brusquely demanded.

  I was startled by his reaction until I realized what I had just let slip. As far as I knew, the only dog that had been shot on Golden Shaft grounds belonged to Dee.

  As my mind raced to cover my tracks, Noah nonchalantly replied, “She got that mixed up with something I told her. It was my dog that was shot, when I worked at Los Alamos.”

  Brian momentarily lasered in on Noah as if I weren’t even there, then finally swung his attention back to me.

  “Stop worrying, Rachel. I swear that no one will harm Pilot.” Brian smiled reassuringly, his old self once again. “Hey, they’d have to answer to me. I’ll even keep him safe in my office as soon as h
e’s found.”

  Anderson slipped out of my grip, giving my hand one last indifferent pat, before walking off to join Ed Garrett.

  “I believe that’s called the classic kiss and dodge technique,” Noah pronounced, donning his Ray Bans. “Too dangerous, my ass. Speaking of which, you can thank me for saving yours, by telling me what all that was about.”

  “Let’s just say I might have blown the cover on a source,” I distractedly replied.

  My attention was on a series of dragmarks, each approximately six inches wide. The marks could have easily been made by rocks pulled along the ground, except for the tiny foot impressions running laterally alongside. They were desert tortoise tracks. Leading off into the distance, the tracks angled around to the side of the mine. My best guess was that the tortoises had found a source of water. I wondered if they had made it to their destination or if their carcasses were now stacked inside the mine’s freezer, replacing those I’d previously stolen.

  We drove past the gate, leaving Pilot behind. Sick to my stomach, I cut the engine and climbed onto the Suburban’s roof, refusing to give up my search. Finally Noah joined me with his cooler of beers as I called Pilot’s name over and over until it was branded in the desert air and seared into my heart.

  Fifteen

  It wasn’t until midafternoon, when my voice was as raspy as Roy Jenkins’s dogs’, that Noah managed to drag me back inside the Suburban. The unrelenting sun had turned my skin hypertender by the time I was finally deposited home. I gave a moment’s fleeting thought to straightening up some of the bungalow’s mess, but the walls began to close in on me without Pilot around. I decided to head for the office to bury myself in work.

  Once there, I discovered I had as much ambition to tackle that debacle as the one I’d just left at home. Fortunately the blinking red light on the office answering machine temporarily solved the problem for me. I hoped it would be Brian, calling to say he’d found Pilot. But it was Henry Lanahan’s voice that boomed out loud and clear.

  “Hey, Porter. I’ve got some information that I think you’ll find intriguing. God knows, it’s proven to be enthralling for all of us here at the lab. You might want to get in touch with me ASAP. Better yet, haul your butt on over as fast as you can. And I ain’t talking sometime soon. I mean NOW!”