Anyone But You

by K. G. MacGregor

  * * *

  Cathryn pulled into the gravel lot by the press trailer, pleased to note Woody and Amy were already inside. For everyone on the communications team, the day was already off to an inauspicious start.

  As she locked her car, she checked her reflection in the window. In three short days, she’d grown accustomed to dressing down for work, though the ankle boots and blazer made her look more like a TV street detective than a corporate spokesperson. At least she wouldn’t ruin any more heels. Since the cameras usually focused only above the waist, she could dress up her look with scarves and jewelry without worrying about her jeans. For today’s press conference, she might also need a whip and a chair.

  Amy leapt from her desk the moment she walked in. “Cathryn, we have a situation.”

  “I know all about it. As far as I can tell, it’s only in the local papers and the papers in Minneapolis and St. Paul, but it’s juicy enough to get picked up on the wires.”

  The original story had broken last night from Ethan Anders, the young reporter from the local college. Though Cathryn wanted to believe there was nothing linking Nations Oil to accusations of harassment and intimidation, the claims were piling up at an alarming rate that couldn’t be a coincidence, especially given Hoss’s characterization of Depew as someone willing to get his hands dirty. A bogus marijuana arrest, slashed tires, a broken windshield and loitering citations for those who were gathering signatures on their petitions to block the Caliber Pipeline.

  She asked Woody point-blank, “Is Depew doing this? Don’t lie to me.”

  He too had taken to wearing jeans to work, but still managed to look crisp in his buttoned-down shirt and tie. “He doesn’t share a lot of details at the briefings, just reminds all of us to keep up with our cell phones and laptops, and not to leave any documents lying around. What’s really creepy is how his security team stands around us in a circle in those tight black T-shirts that show off their muscles. They look like those phony wrestlers on TV. Oh, and they wear sunglasses inside. Cool, huh? It wouldn’t surprise me at all if they were out there roughing people up.”

  “To what end?” This could only mean the corporate brass didn’t have confidence in her ability to handle a hostile press. “It’s just going to make our job that much harder. Please tell me there’s good news in the operations briefing.”

  “Not too bad, actually.” Amy handed her a document. “Cleanup continues…pipeline repairs expected to be complete by the first of next week. You might get some grief over why it isn’t the other way around.”

  It was their job to anticipate such questions and prepare the answers in advance. The straight fact was Nations Oil was losing eight million dollars every day the pipeline was down because they didn’t have enough trucks to transport the oil overland from the main pumping station in International Falls to the port in Illinois. Fixing the pipeline would stop the bleeding, whereas the oil in Lake Bunyan wasn’t going anywhere.

  Cathryn slid into her chair and launched immediately into preparing her notes for the midday press conference. One of the skills that made her indispensable to Nations Oil was her ability to sort out solutions quickly. She spoke her words as she typed, “Our number one priority is to make absolutely certain no more product is released. To do that our engineers must excavate and redirect that which is sitting in sections of the pipeline already compromised. It would be irresponsible to divert our resources from this imperative.”

  As a team, they hammered out her talking points, leaving until last the accusations reported in the newspaper.

  “I had a beer the other night with one of Depew’s guys,” Woody said. “You want me to chat him up and see if I can find out anything?”

  The idea that Nations Oil might be behind these incidents—and perhaps even working in cahoots with local law enforcement to harass reporters and activists—was disturbing. Hoss would never approve something so outrageous but she couldn’t say the same for Depew, who seemed capable of anything. Whatever he was up to, Hoss wanted her clean and she intended to stay that way.

  “No. If Depew’s behind this, I don’t want to know—and I don’t want you to know either. Stay as far away from it as you can get.” It was hard enough to stand in front of a room and spin away unfavorable facts. She didn’t want to be forced to lie about unethical—or worse, criminal—actions. Hoss had given her plausible deniability and she was going to take it.

  * * *

  Stacie peered over Jenn’s shoulder at the images on her laptop while holding the phone to her ear. “This is phenomenal, Izzy. You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

  “Don’t thank me. That’s Ricky’s drone. We noticed all week there weren’t many guards around early in the morning, like between six thirty and eight. We figured they must have a daily meeting at that time or something, so that’s usually when we try to slip out and take a look around. When we heard them out on the lake this morning we knew they were up to something.”

  There was barely enough daylight for video but the images were unmistakable. Hundreds of dead fish and birds were floating atop the lake, and a dozen motorboats were working in teams to drag nets across the surface.

  “I can’t believe you got the drone this close without anyone seeing you.”

  “It flies pretty high up and you can see how they’re all staring down at the water. The boat motors must have covered up the sound. It was perfect. Have you gotten to the end yet? You’re not going to believe what happens.”

  They watched with revulsion as the carcasses were offloaded into a dump truck and then carted to a deep hole near the excavation site, where they were promptly covered with dirt. A small portion—hardly enough to fill a bushel basket—was placed in the bed of a pickup truck belonging to the Department of Natural Resources. Stacie was willing to bet that would be the “official count” of wildlife lost to the spill.

  “Bastards,” Jenn muttered. “That lake is dead.”

  “You guys did good,” Stacie said. “Have you found a drop zone yet?”

  Izzy described a culvert on Lake Bunyan Road, the road that encircled the lake. It marked the perimeter of the area the guards were patrolling. “If you look on the map, there’s access through the woods from State Road 194. Just don’t come at night. These guys use night vision goggles, which means they can see you but you can’t see them.”

  She made a list of things they needed—fresh fruit and vegetables, bread and nuts, more Sterno. Otherwise they were fine. When she hung up the phone, she twirled one of the DVDs Jenn had burned with the incriminating video. “We need to get this on the six o’clock news.”

  “Not so fast,” Jenn said. “It’s Friday. The news cycle all but shuts down for the weekend, and it won’t get much play. We need to save it until Monday, and between now and then we’ll get their spokesperson and the Department of Natural Resources on record describing the impact on fish and birds. I can’t wait to catch them in that lie.”

  “Brilliant. Let’s hope it goes viral.” It was classic “gotcha” journalism, exposing the company’s outrageous lies in dramatic fashion so the news audience would treat all their subsequent pronouncements with skepticism.

  “This’ll be good for our rally. It’ll be fresh in people’s minds and we can use the news story to boost turnout.”

  “Good idea. I’m going over to the commissioners’ office this afternoon to add another thousand people to our permit for Chester Park. I had no idea response would be this good.”

  There was another reason to wait until Monday, Stacie noted. She had plans for the weekend with Cate—a two-night reservation at the waterfront Weller Regent, with no plans to see anyone other than the room service staff.

  “By the way, Stace, you remember Faye?”

  “Sure, Ethan’s friend. I met her at the cabin the first night I got here.”

  “She dropped out last night. Apparently her father put a lot of pressure on her after she told him what happened to Ethan.”

  “Damn.” That
was exactly how intimidation was supposed to work, especially with new recruits who weren’t thoroughly committed to the cause. Minor threats to property or reputation usually did the trick. The oil companies counted on that, and they hired thugs like Karl Depew to make it happen.

  “Her dad wrote us a nice check though. I think he felt guilty.”

  “Better than nothing, I guess.” At least Faye and her father were on the right side of the issue. Maybe they’d even show up at Wednesday’s protest.

  CLEAN desperately needed the media on their side too—no easy task, since most TV stations and newspapers were owned by corporations whose officials also sat on the boards of Big Oil, Big Pharma, big banks, defense contractors and agribusiness, none of which could be trusted to act in the public’s interest. Their unholy coalition funded candidates and legislation to consolidate their power and perpetuate the status quo. Some days it seemed as if nothing short of a mass citizen uprising could break their grip.

  Marty joined them in the office and tossed the Prius keys on the desk. He’d gone back to Bemidji to pick up the results of the water analysis from the guy his father had recommended. “I got the results. It’s clay sediment. No trace of oil or hydrocarbons.”

  “How is that possible? My kayak was covered with oil. And what about that bird? You can’t tell me that wasn’t bitumen.”

  “Nope, conventional oil. It must have flown into the contaminated area. I don’t know about your kayak. Maybe it was just sludge.”

  She knew oil when she saw it, and there was no way the gunk she’d picked up off the lake bottom was clay sediment. Something must have gone wrong with the tests, but she didn’t want to disparage the scientist because he was a friend of Marty’s father.

  “That’s good news, isn’t it?” Marty asked. “Maybe the lake isn’t as bad off as we thought.”

  “Except it is.” She shook her head and sighed, frustrated that her perfectly executed reconnaissance mission had been for naught. “I don’t understand what happened. It was even on my hands after I dipped them in the water. I must have mishandled the samples or something.”

  Jenn looked equally distraught. “We could ask Izzy to try again.”

  “It’s too risky. If he gets caught, they’ll lock him up for trespassing.”

  “How far away is the cabin in relation to the spill site?” Marty asked. “Maybe they could slip out at night and try to get closer.”

  “Izzy thinks they’re using night vision goggles. Like I said, too risky.” That didn’t mean she wouldn’t ask him to try. Izzy wasn’t afraid of risks, and Ricky was smart enough to figure out how to do it without getting caught. One thing she knew for sure—if she could get her hands on more samples, she’d find another chemist to check them out, perhaps someone at the Department of Health in St. Paul.

  * * *

  Cathryn raised her eyebrows as Marlene fanned four fifty-dollar bills on the dresser. “Have I misunderstood the nature of our relationship?”

  “I went online and saw how much the room was. I figured if I paid half you’d be less inclined to kick me out.”

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  Since they’d agreed in advance to hole up in the room, both had shown up in yoga wear and kicked off their two-night date with an hour of posing, stretching and meditation. Cathryn found it strangely arousing to share the routine over Marlene’s lavender candle, which they used as a focal point. And now that she was aroused…

  Marlene peeled out of her clothes and stretched nude across the bed. “I have to warn you. My period is due tomorrow so I plan to make the most of tonight.”

  “And I should warn you I don’t care if you’re on your period or not. Unless you’ve brought a garlic necklace, you won’t be safe from me.” Janice had been prickly about “red sex,” crossing two weeks of every month off their intimate calendar.

  “Fine, but let’s at least pretend tonight’s our only shot. I’ve been looking forward to this all week and I want my money’s worth.”

  Cathryn pointed to the bills on the dresser. “I thought you said…oh, never mind.” She discarded her clothes and crawled onto the bed, wedging her knee between Marlene’s legs.

  Already they knew each other’s rhythm, contracting and stretching to meld their bodies from shoulder to toe. Her hands held Marlene’s face as they kissed with passion that was almost emotional. There was no love between them to express, but that didn’t stop her desire for the deep, physical pleasure of deep, physical kissing.

  Marlene began to writhe beneath her, gripping her buttocks to grind their hips together. Between her heavy breathing and driving thrusts, it was clear their friction alone might cause her to climax. Cathryn tightened the muscles in her thigh and ground harder, aware that she too was breathing heavily.

  With a low moan that steadily grew more desperate, Marlene lurched upward, rolling both of them onto their sides, and grasped the back of Cathryn’s thigh to pull it firmly against her. Then after a long moment during which both of them held their breath, she finally exhaled with great force and went limp.

  Cathryn had never seen anyone come without at least a little direct stimulation. She tickled the hair on the back of Marlene’s neck. “That’s a nice trick.”

  “Mind over body. I actually started feeling it when we were meditating. I could teach you how to channel that if you want.”

  “Hmm…that almost makes it sound like you did it by yourself.”

  Marlene touched her cheek and looked at her seriously. “No, it wasn’t like that at all. It helps me focus on all of you and not just what your hand or your mouth are doing. The big picture. Trust me, it’s a good thing. Not that I mind the little pictures. Those are good too.”

  She was touched at how quickly Marlene responded to her feelings of insignificance. “Forget teaching me then. I was hoping it was something I could use to get off while humping my favorite pillow. The cute one with the sweet personality, of course.”

  “I never would have guessed you had trouble getting off.” She slid two fingers between Cathryn’s legs. “You certainly don’t have any trouble getting wet.”

  Cathryn hissed with excitement as a jolt of pure pleasure traveled from Marlene’s fingertips to the base of her skull. Two hundred dollars never felt so good.

  * * *

  Stacie awakened first and tiptoed to the door to retrieve the newspaper. Careful not to wake Cate, she slipped into the bathroom to read the coverage of the oil spill, which was still playing on the front page. It was no surprise Nations Oil was categorically denying an intimidation campaign against the activists. Their spokesperson even went so far as to suggest CLEAN was fabricating events to garner public sympathy.

  Ethan’s arrest and toxicology report were hardly fabricated, but PR professionals like this Cathryn Mack person weren’t interested in evidence. If they couldn’t twist the truth in their favor, they smeared their adversaries with accusations and innuendo—an age-old strategy that worked all too often. It was no accident the public thought most environmental activists were radicals who sometimes killed people for their cause.

  At the end of the article was a quote she’d given as head of CLEAN.

  “Environmental disasters like the one at Lake Bunyan happen all too often, and so do these harassment campaigns. Oil companies don’t want the public to know how reckless they are, how they put profits ahead of people, and how they leave their oily footprint around the beautiful lakes and rivers where we raise our children. Our mission at the Clean Energy Action Network is to help communities hold them responsible for the damage they’ve done and make it harder for them to do it again. We’re holding a rally at Chester Park on Wednesday at five o’clock, and we hope folks will come out and show Nations Oil how much Lake Bunyan means to the people of Bunyan County.”

  Cate called from the other room, “Did you fall in?”

  She folded the paper and walked out, toying briefly with the notion of outing herself as Stacie Pilard
i, executive director of CLEAN, and to show off her importance with the front-page quote. There were too many reasons to keep that under wraps. It might screw up their chemistry if she suddenly became a real person. That would be a shame, since Cate was the best match she’d ever found on SappHere. An even greater risk would be learning Cate didn’t care at all about the environment, or even worse, that she was one of those global warming skeptics who didn’t believe the science. That wasn’t likely, since she seemed too smart to have her head in the sand, but why take a chance?

  “Oh, we got a newspaper,” Cate said. “Anything in it?”

  “Nah, I was just killing time until you woke up.” She crawled back into bed and snuggled up to Cate. “Are you as hungry as I am? I bet I burned five thousand calories last night.”

  “I suppose I could eat again…breakfast, that is. What did you have in mind?”

  “Coffee mostly, and some toast. And then maybe I’ll put blueberries all over your belly and roll them around with my tongue. How does that sound?”

  Cate chuckled and snaked her arm around Stacie’s shoulder to pull her close. “I don’t suppose you’d let me do the same to you with bacon and eggs.”

  “That wouldn’t go well.”

  “Then maybe we should order pancakes and take turns feeding each other.”

  “Oooh, syrup could be fun.”

  “I would say you’re already sweet enough,” Cate said, “but you’d probably accuse me of shooting you a line just to get you in bed.”

  “Save your sweet nothings. I’m already in bed.” She ran her hand from Cate’s hip to the soft mound of flesh below her navel.

  “Better not touch me there. I have to pee.”

  “So get up and pee. I don’t think I can hold off much longer.”

  Cate threw back the comforter and shivered, hugging her body as she hurried into the bathroom, where she left the door slightly ajar. “Did you start your period?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been having so much sex lately, my body probably thinks I’m someone else.”

  “I think this situation calls for a very close inspection.” Cate retrieved her reading glasses from the dresser, yanked the covers to the foot of the bed and positioned her head squarely between Stacie’s legs. “Let’s see if everything is in order.”