Dead of Spring: An Alexa Williams Novel

by Sherry Knowlton

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Om mani padme hum.”

  Bundled up against the morning chill, Alexa sat cross-legged in a spot of sunshine on the front deck. She hadn’t slept well, besieged by jumbled thoughts of Senator Martinelli’s death, the sound of that bullet hitting the hot tub cover behind her head, and Walt Jordan’s deep voice talking about fracking. After a few hours of fitful sleep, she’d awakened to bright sunshine, Reese’s name on her lips, and a fading dream of their last time together on safari in Samburu.

  So, this morning, Alexa searched for inner peace through meditation and chanting. She regretted that she’d let her meditation practice slip in recent months.

  Scout, snuggled against her knee, jumped to his feet and looked down the lane, tail wagging. Alexa broke off the mantra when the vehicle arrived a few seconds later. She rose and greeted John as he emerged from his car.

  “Good morning, sugarcakes. Great day to be out in the woods, even if it’s on a hunt for illegal testing.” John kissed Alexa’s cheek and patted Scout’s head. “I brought some stuff for sandwiches in case we wanted to pack a lunch.”

  Alexa grabbed the cushion she’d been using and followed John into the cabin. “Where are we going to search?”

  “Jim and I want to start up on Big Flat and search from there on the dirt roads. We put together a plan the other evening at that fly-tying workshop.”

  “Melissa and Jim should be here soon. Let me run upstairs and change.”

  When Alexa came back downstairs, Scout was chasing the French bulldog puppy, Ansel, around the living room. John, Melissa, and Jim were in the kitchen making sandwiches. “That looks like enough food for a week.”

  “I was a Girl Scout. Be prepared.” Melissa laughed. “What if we get stranded out there in the wilds?”

  Jim raised an eyebrow. “You mean the vast, untamed wilderness where I work every day?”

  “Exactly.” His girlfriend nodded her head in emphasis, auburn hair bouncing.

  Ten minutes later the group, including dogs, climbed into Jim’s big SUV and hit the road. Alexa felt her spirits climb as they drove the mountain roads. “Look at the daffodils.” She pointed to a bank of yellow flowers gleaming in the late morning sun.

  “I arranged to meet a guy up on Big Flat to hear about suspicious activity he reported. He does trail rides once or twice a week, usually from Big Flat. Said he passed a big utility truck on some roads that are closed to traffic,” Jim announced. “He agreed to meet us at the end of his ride today.”

  Melissa asked, “Did this horse guy talk to the people in the trucks?”

  “I don’t think so. He said he decided to give them a wide berth. That they ‘looked up to no good.’ John and I want to question him and get more details.”

  “Most of the reports of unusual traffic come from the Adams County side of the forest, right?” John asked.

  “Yes. That makes it a little more difficult to deal with. There are still a number of private holdings that jut into state land. The border’s not straight like in Cumberland County. So we need to be careful we’re investigating within Michaux State Forest and not trespassing on private land.” Jim slowed as three deer crossed the road ahead.

  “Where were the explosions?” Melissa asked.

  Alexa hadn’t fully tuned into the conversation until Melissa’s question caught her attention. “Explosions?”

  “Didn’t I tell you about that, sugarcakes?” John’s excitement showed. “A couple of Appalachian Trail through-hikers reported they felt the ground shake. They told the park people when they reached Pine Grove Furnace. One of Jim’s ranger buddies interviewed them while they were downing the ritual gallon of ice cream at the General Store.”

  “Where were they when they felt the explosions? Could it have been construction?” Alexa leaned forward toward Jim and John in the front seats.

  “That’s doubtful. They were a little hazy on the details, but it was somewhere between the Birch Run Shelter and Dead Woman Hollow Road. There wouldn’t be much construction up there,” Jim replied.

  “Why are explosions significant?” Alexa knew she was slipping into courtroom mode.

  “I can’t explain the whole thing, but the fracking companies place devices that measure seismic activity at various locations. Then they set off an explosion. The seismic activity from the explosion lets them find the best place to frack.” Jim laughed. “Norman Tanner, one of the rangers, has a degree in geology. He explained the details last night, but only part of it stuck. Main thing―we look for marks of explosions or these measuring devices. That gives us evidence of testing.”

  “After what I saw up in Tioga County earlier this week, just the thought of fracking here in Michaux makes me sick. I took some photos with my phone. I’ll show them to you over lunch.” Alexa sat back against the cushions as everyone became silent. Sensing her distress, Scout edged forward and hung his head over the back of Alexa’s seat.

  A few hours later, Jim pulled into an old logging road. After lurching along for a mile or so, Jim stopped the truck. “Look at that old deer trail. Doesn’t it look like there’s been some foot traffic there?”

  Everyone climbed out of the SUV and watched Jim stride around the area, looking at branches and tracks on the ground.

  Melissa grinned. “So, what’s the story, Natty Bumpo? Has a war party been through here?”

  Alexa laughed. “I loved Last of the Mohicans. The movie more than the book. I hope Magua’s not out here somewhere. That guy was one sick dude.”

  “This is serious business,” John admonished. “But, we don’t expect to actually find any of these fracking people today. If we did, we wouldn’t have brought you two and the dogs along. We’re just searching for signs they’ve been here.”

  Jim, who had ignored the entire conversation, returned to the group. “It looks like there has been some foot traffic down that animal trail. It’s worth a hike to check it out.”

  Melissa declared, “I’m not sure Ansel is up to a real hike yet. I’m just going to hang out here. Take some photos of that stream over there.”

  John looked at Alexa who said, “Scout and I will stay with Melissa.”

  “Don’t forget, she’s still recovering from a serious wound, with stitches in her shoulder,” Melissa teased.

  “I barely notice it. The stitches have dissolved,” Alexa whispered.

  The two men headed up the trail. When the path crested the top of the ridge, they disappeared from sight. Alexa and Melissa made their way down a gentle slope to the burbling mountain stream. Scout found a sandy spot and waded into the cold water for a drink. More cautious, the puppy stopped at the edge to lap up some water. Melissa snapped photos of the dogs and then wandered upstream to take some more serious photos. “I’m working on landscapes and nature shots now as a counterpoint to the people photos I’ve been doing for so long,” she told Alexa. “It’s refreshing, really. There’s a lot less misery in landscapes.”

  “Wait until you see my fracking shots. There’s a whole lot of misery in those. It’s made me think about adding solar panels to the roof of the cabin.”

  “Do you get enough light?”

  “I’ll have the professionals give me an opinion. But I’d really like to wean my energy consumption away from fossil fuels if I can. The fracking tour was an eye-opener.”

  “You said some bigwig took you on the tour?” Melissa asked as she scanned through the photos she’d taken.

  “A representative from Tioga County, Walt Jordan. He’s a great guy, not at all the image of a typical politician. He’s leading the fight against fracking in state parks. I believe he’ll ultimately work to ban all new fracking, like they’ve done in New York State. I really admire him.”

  Melissa looked up from her camera. “You admire him?” She emphasized the word admire. “Alexa, what’s going on here? That sounded just like senior year when you told Haley and me how you loved Paulo’s Spanish accent. What aren’t you telling me about this
Walt Jordan?”

  Alexa winced. “That he’s married with two kids.”

  “WTF, Alexa. You’re involved with a married man?”

  “I thought you gave up swearing.”

  “I have. You didn’t hear me say fuck, did you? I’m transitioning. Nice try, but you’re not going to get me off track, counselor.” Melissa sat on a big rock. “What’s with you and this married politician?”

  “Nothing, really.”

  Melissa tilted her head and waited for Alexa to continue.

  “Well, if he wasn’t married, there could be. He’s gorgeous, charismatic, and I truly think he’s one of the good ones. But I’d never have anything to do with a married man, Melissa.”

  “Then what’s going on?”

  “It’s John. Or, more accurately, me and John.”

  “The man’s a sweetheart, and he’s crazy about you.” Melissa’s words were matter of fact.

  “All that’s true. Trust me, I want to be crazy about him. And I just can’t. He just too frigging nice. With John, what you see is what you get.”

  “That’s not so bad. John’s one of the truly nice guys, not to mention stalwart, brave, steadfast.”

  “I care for him a lot, but I’m never going to give him my heart. And, I suspect, down deep, he knows. The more I push him away, the harder he pressures me to commit. He wants me to visit his family. He wants to move in.” Alexa squeezed onto the rock next to Melissa. “I just can’t do it.” Her voice dropped. “I’ve been dreaming of Reese.”

  The two women sat in silence for a moment watching the dogs. Scout had tired and now stretched out on the forest floor. The French bulldog tugged at the mastiff’s ear, trying to get him to play.

  “Reese is in Africa, Lexie, and he might never come back. The two of you agreed to end the relationship when you visited him in Kenya. Are you sure this dream of Reese, a man you’ll probably never have, isn’t what’s keeping you from John? And trying to blow up the relationship by running after a married man? None of it makes any sense. Damn, girl. You may need therapy if you can’t get your act together.”

  “Let me say it one more time, Ann Landers. I am not running after a married man. But I can’t deny I’m attracted to him. Just knowing I could so easily be drawn to another man―that confirmed what I already knew, deep down. I like John. He’s good. He’s kind. He’s cute and great company. He’s always there for me.”

  “Damn, Alexa. You sound like you’re describing your dog, not your boyfriend.

  “I know. He’s everything I should want. That’s why I feel like such a shit for breaking it off.”

  Melissa walked over to Ansel and picked him up. “Leave Scout alone for a few minutes, shrimp.” She came back to Alexa. “So you’re really serious. It’s over?”

  “I’ve been coming to this decision for a while. But my mind’s made up. I need to do it before I say something I’ll regret. I want to part on good terms. But every time he calls me sugarcakes, I want to scream.” Alexa shook her head.

  “When are you going tell him?”

  “I don’t know. Soon. I’m sort of waiting for the right time.”

  “Is that fair to John? Waiting, I mean.”

  “Probably not. I’m just a coward.” Alexa rose, her expression strained.

  “Suck it up and tell him. Don’t wait,” Melissa advised.

  “I am such a disaster when it comes to men. When I want them, they don’t want me or they’re taken. If they’re really into me, that turns me off. And the rest turn out to be psychopaths and deviants.”

  Still holding her Frenchie, Melissa comforted Alexa with a one-armed hug and murmured in her ear, “You are a disaster. But I love you anyway.”

  Giggling, the two old friends broke apart. Scout rose and trotted over to check out the joke.

  “I’m thirsty. Let’s go back to the car for a drink,” Alexa suggested. Melissa put Ansel down on the ground to scamper behind them on their hike up the hill.

  Soon after, Jim and John came walking back down the trail. As they approached, Melissa muttered, “Talk about awkward. Now that I know, every time I look at John, I’ll wonder when you’re going to dump him.”

  Alexa’s reply had a sharp edge. “For God’s sake, Melissa. It’s a secret, so don’t say a thing. Don’t tell Jim. For sure, it won’t be this afternoon. And he’ll still be a friend.”

  “I’m not so sure about that, sugarcakes,” Melissa murmured.

  “Did you find anything?” Alexa turned her back on Melissa and yelled to the two men.

  When they reached the SUV, the guys buzzed with excitement. John waved his hand toward the hill. “We’re pretty sure this is one of the sites. There’s some equipment attached to bags, maybe sand bags. We took some pictures on our phones.” He passed his cell phone to Alexa and Melissa. “And we got the GPS coordinates.”

  Jim scrolled through his phone, looking at his photos. “We have to do the research to see if these things are seismic monitors. And to verify this is state forest land. Then we can set up surveillance to get whoever comes back to claim it.”

  “What about setting up one of those remote cameras they use to track wild animal activities? I saw this TV show about tigers in Nepal where they used them,” Melissa suggested.

  Jim reached into the cooler for a soft drink. “Not a bad idea. John, a drink?”

  “Water, please.”

  Alexa asked, “Did you see any markings to indicate the company?”

  “Just the manufacturer name for the monitor. That might help us track down the owner of the equipment. But we need to make sure we’re on solid ground before we proceed.” John threw his backpack into the SUV.

  “That guy with the horses really helped us narrow the search area,” Jim said.

  John laughed. “He did. But I would have driven around these dirt roads all day and never have spotted that animal trail. You really are the last of the Mohicans, man.”

  The group piled back into the SUV and headed toward Route 233.

  “What do you think is going on? One of these natural gas companies is trying to get a jump on the competition, right?” Melissa asked.

  Alexa leaned forward. “Right. Someone’s hedging their bets that this legislation will pass and let them drill on state land. If they have everything mapped out in advance, that gives them an advantage in leasing the gas rights.”

  As they approached Alexa’s cabin, John and Jim discussed their next steps. John said, “Let me talk to the corporal, and you talk to your people. I’d like to come back out here with a team. Maybe next week. And nail these bastards.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  March 31 -April 2, 1979

  I Survived Three Mile Island . . . I Think.

  ―T-shirts sold after the Three Mile Island incident

  Randi spent her weekend in the maternity ward in a cocoon of bliss, cuddling little Walden and learning how to feed, bathe, and change him. Will had spent the entire time on tenterhooks, devouring every announcement about the situation at Three Mile Island.

  The crisis with the hydrogen bubble had continued throughout the day on Saturday. At a morning press conference, a Met-Ed spokesman assured reporters that they’d reduced the bubble and it was no longer dangerous. Only minutes later, the NRC guy, Harold Denton, said the danger was still significant. When Will drove home to shower and change, he turned on the radio to hear a frightening announcement from the NRC Chairman in Washington. He told all residents within a twenty-mile radius of TMI to be prepared to evacuate.

  Will packed some clothes in a bag. Although he wasn’t really sure what a baby as tiny as Walden would need, he rummaged through Randi’s shower gifts and packed some baby clothes and diapers. On his way back to the hospital he gassed up the car so they could hit the road directly from the hospital when the NRC gave the order to evacuate.

  Between visits with Randi and the baby, Will hung out with the two floor nurses, listening to the radio for updates. Night had fallen when the public radio
station broke a news bulletin from the Associated Press. The bubble had reached a danger point and could soon explode.

  “We should all get out of here,” Will cried to the nurses.

  The older nurse, still on duty, put a hand on his arm. “Calm down, son. Let’s wait to see if there’s something more from the governor or the NRC. You don’t want to put your wife and day-old baby in a car and subject them to a long ride if you don’t need to. They’re in no shape for it.”

  Blanching, the younger nurse looked at her watch. “It’s time for young Walden to be fed.” Before she left for the nursery, she addressed Will, her voice quavering. “I know this is serious. The hospital is now closed to everything but emergency admissions. I don’t want to blow up or get radiation poisoning any more than you do, Mr. Armstrong. But I agree with Nurse Murphy. None of us, especially your wife and child, want to be caught up in a mob of people and traffic running for their lives―unless there’s no choice.”

  “You’re right. I’ll come with you while Randi feeds the baby.” Will bit his lip. He’d been so selfish to only think of his and Randi’s situation. He gave Nurse Murphy an apologetic look. “You’ll let us know if there’s any news?”

  Less than an hour later, Nurse Murphy came to the door of Randi’s room and asked Will to step out. She whispered, “That last news report was wrong. Although the situation still isn’t good at TMI, the bubble isn’t going to explode. That man, Denton, says things are not critical. And President Carter is going to visit TMI tomorrow.” She gave Will a tremulous smile. “It can’t be dangerous if the president is coming, right?”

  “I guess. He’s a nuclear engineer, so he’ll be able to tell if they’re lying.”

  When Will climbed into the narrow hospital bed he’d used the night before, he clung to that shred of optimism. Nurse Murphy was right. No one would let the president of the United States visit a nuclear power plant on the brink of a meltdown. Maybe they really did have the hydrogen bubble under control.