I directed her attention to the pool, where one of the manatees now appeared to be swimming lopsided—probably because a child had hold of its tail and was forcing the mammal to pull him around in the water like some sort of manatee jet ski.
“Oh shit,” she muttered and promptly jumped in the pool to stop him.
I felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that she was about to lose her job. On the other hand, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to put Manatee Mania out of business.
I imagined being the one to break the good news to Wendell, when I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye—a person passing by the gate. Only this wasn’t just anyone, but a man who was tall and lean, and moved like a well-oiled machine. Scratch that—make it an expensive Lexus. A closer look revealed it to be none other than Clark Williams. He had apparently been in Wendell’s office and was now heading toward the exit.
Chalk it up to my contrariness, but I was consumed by an overwhelming urge to confront the man. After all, it was due to him that the entire Service was probably now gunning for me. Besides, I’d gotten as much as I probably could out of Candi right now.
“I’ll be in touch,” I hollered to her over my shoulder as I ran out, already focused on my next target.
Williams moved briskly, each of his steps as resolute as the next, like that of a man on a mission.
“Would you mind slowing down?” I called, rushing to catch up to him. “I’d like to speak with you for a minute.”
Williams stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. Once again, he was impeccably dressed in a tailored pair of olive twill pants and a chambray ivory shirt, his feet attired in loafers made of the softest calfskin leather.
“Why, Agent Porter. What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you today?” he congenially inquired, flashing a winning smile.
If someone hadn’t known our brief history, they might have assumed we were friends. As it was, his strategy worked. I was momentarily caught off-guard, having expected him to be furious.
“I understand you managed to have that ticket I wrote up on you squashed. That’s an interesting maneuver you pulled,” I replied, internally scrambling to regain my composure. “What was it called again? Oh, yeah. The DeLorean defense.”
“I wouldn’t call it a maneuver, Agent Porter. Rather, I like to think of it as playing by the rules. You weren’t authorized to work on Labor Day, therefore you had no business issuing a ticket in the first place,” Williams responded, remaining perfectly cool.
“Right. Which brings me to another matter. Just how did you manage to learn about my work schedule so quickly, anyway?”
Williams arched an eyebrow. “I’m afraid you’d have to ask my lawyer that question. But what makes you think he didn’t simply take an educated guess? After all, it was a federal holiday, and you know how the government hates to pay overtime.”
Damn the man. I was hoping he wouldn’t come up with that. Williams continued to smile, clearly enjoying the game, while he awaited my next move. It was almost as if he were already three steps ahead. What I wanted more than anything was to wipe that smug look off his face.
“I understand you might try to further exploit the situation by requesting a Congressional oversight hearing on Fish and Wildlife Division of Law Enforcement excesses.”
“See? Now that’s something you’ve got wrong.”
I expelled an inner sigh of relief, unaware until then just how coiled up inside I’d been.
“I’m far beyond simply contemplating it. I’ve already decided to charge full steam ahead. You can fully expect to be called to testify before Congress. However, I’m also certain that you’ll charm each and every member enough to stay out of trouble.”
Was that a twinkle I saw in his eye? I could almost swear the man was flirting with me. Then I realized what was actually going on.
“You’re doing all this as a prelude to your run for Congress, aren’t you?” I charged, thinking out loud. “This is simply a warm-up to showcase your stand against any sort of government regulation.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” Williams mused, in a lightly mocking tone. “I must say, I feel flattered. And here I thought you didn’t know anything about me.”
The next moment, his attitude changed yet again. He dropped all trace of sarcasm and thrust out his hand.
“You’re a smart woman, Porter. And believe it or not, I’m beginning to like you. I actually think you could do quite well for yourself with the proper guidance. What do you say that we call a truce?”
I looked at the man, uncertain of how best to handle the situation—never mind that every fiber inside me warned that he wasn’t to be trusted.
“At least for now,” he disarmingly added.
I had little choice but to shake his hand.
“I hope you don’t mind a minor observation on my part. You need to learn how to better navigate your way through the system. So far, you’ve done a pretty lousy job of it.”
“Oh, really. And what makes you say that?”
Williams winked. Either that or the guy had a nervous tic.
“Word gets around. Besides, it’s not as if you’ve managed to successfully work your way up through the ranks.”
“It sounds as though you’ve done some research of your own. Is that supposed to make me feel flattered or threatened?” I parried.
“Most definitely flattered,” Williams responded with a roguish grin. “You know, I could be a good friend to you if you’d let me. God knows, I’ve had plenty of experience with the wheeling and dealings in government. It seems to me that Fish and Wildlife could use more people like yourself in supervisory positions at their headquarters in D.C. I’d be more than willing to help you, under the proper circumstances.”
“And what would you get in return?” I asked, immediately suspicious.
“The satisfaction of knowing there are more than just bungling dolts attempting to run the government. Let’s face it. Everyone in Washington is handpicked in one way or other. I like to think I’m one of those who has sense enough to want intelligent people filling those positions.”
“Uh-huh. And I suppose it also wouldn’t hurt if they just happened to owe you a favor or two.”
Williams softly laughed and leaned in toward me, as though he were about to share an intimate secret. “But of course. Anyway, I can’t imagine that remaining a field agent would be very rewarding for the duration of your career. And why should it be? Especially when given a closer look at those colleagues who have already surpassed you.”
He was right. Call it vanity, but I couldn’t help but be bothered at having been left behind in the dust.
I began to fantasize about being offered a position that included perks such as respect, power, and money. True, I’d no longer be out in the field, but I also wouldn’t be booted around the country. Santou would definitely approve of such a move. We could finally have a permanent home. There’d be no reason not to get married or have a family. Maybe it was time that I did grow up and put down roots. After all, didn’t everybody?
“Who knows? You might even come to think of me as your mentor, one of these days.”
Those words rankled my nerves, like a sour note clashing against a tuning fork, causing my perfect daydream to shatter. They forced me to take yet another look at the man. Everything about him was seductive—from his voice, to his smile, to his laugh. But most enticing of all was what he seemed to be offering. I felt like a fly who’d nearly been caught in his web. I mentally shook myself free, having realized just what I’d been contemplating.
I watched him watching me, calculating what my reaction would be. Who was this guy, anyway? Darth Vader, tempting me over to the Dark Side?
“Thanks, but no thanks. You forget, I’ve recently had a taste of what you consider to be justice, and I can’t say that I much like the way your version of government works. Speaking of which, how did your meeting go with Wendell today? Have the two of you cooked up a master plan
for Manatee Mania’s breeding facility yet? Or were you hashing out details for the latest luxury condo complex?”
Williams observed me for a moment in amused silence, as if I posed no more threat than a mere flea.
“Does that mean you don’t approve of Wendell’s new plans for his water park?”
“See? Now that’s something you’ve got wrong,” I sardonically responded, choosing to echo his own words. “My approval doesn’t matter, since Manatee Mania is about to be closed down.”
“You don’t say. And why is that?” Williams asked, almost indifferently.
“For illegally harboring and exhibiting endangered species, to say nothing of condoning their harassment. You may have won our first go-around out in the marsh. But I believe this second more important round belongs to me,” I nearly crowed, ecstatic that I’d managed to one-up this guy. “I’ve informed Fish and Wildlife’s regional office about this facility and they should be taking action any day now. Oh yeah. That’s the other thing. Not only do I know about your development firm, but I’m also fully aware that Golden Dreams is financially backing the water park. Sorry, but I guess you’ll be taking a hit on this one.”
There. That ought to put a crimp in his development plans. Over half the wetlands in this country had already been destroyed, having fallen prey to the onslaught of industry and rapacious development in a brutal battle. I planned to do everything possible to keep any more in this area from vanishing under my watch.
“I guess Golden Dreams Development Corporation is just going to have to look for a stretch of marsh somewhere else to rip up,” I giddily added, unable to keep my mouth shut.
“You really are pretty full of yourself, aren’t you Porter?” Williams responded, skillfully bursting my bubble. “Do you truly believe that what you say actually carries any clout? If so, I’m afraid you’re sadly mistaken. Manatee Mania will be expanding right on target, as will the condos, houses, golf courses, and everything else that’s already in the hopper. It’s what’s known as progress, Rachel. And neither you, nor a few miserable manatees, are going to stand in its way.”
The edges of my confidence promptly began to crumble like a disintegrating cookie. I wondered if he might not be right. I hadn’t yet heard a word from my boss.
Williams voice continued to curl itself around me, his tone smooth as a leather whip. “You should consider choosing your battles more carefully. I’m not your enemy unless you decide to treat me like one.”
It was as if I hadn’t truly seen Williams until this very moment. The man standing before me now snapped fully into focus.
“You worked at Interior once upon a time. What happened to make you so anti-environmental?” I asked, aware that the same could be said about any number of former high-level Interior Department employees.
Williams deigned to bestow a condescending smile upon me. “You’ve got it all wrong, Rachel. I’m not anti-environment. I’m just pro-business. Besides, you should be well versed in what Interior’s current philosophy is by now. Compromise isn’t the answer some of the time. It’s the answer all of the time.”
“In that case, no wonder endangered species don’t stand a chance. Not when they’re being compromised to death,” I caustically retorted. “I now understand why so many rumors flew around about you, when you were Undersecretary. It was said that you could be bought. Apparently, that was true.”
Williams’s eyes flashed angry as blinking traffic lights, only to be deftly suppressed. “It’s not a black-and-white world, Rachel. The fact that you insist on viewing it as such doesn’t help your cause any. Which is why you’d be smart to consider my offer. It’s a one-time deal. Either learn to run with the big boys, or get crushed.”
With that remark, Williams swiveled on the heels of his calfskin loafers and left.
I stood transfixed, wondering what he possibly knew that I didn’t. Maybe a chat with Wendell would help shed some light.
I strode toward his office, past a group of kids that came barreling headfirst down the waterslide, screaming holy hell at the top of their lungs.
“I want to have at least two of those,” Santou had recently informed me, as though he were placing an order for a couple of pies.
My response had been to wisely keep my mouth shut. What was so wrong with being consumed by my job, anyway? I’d have to have another discussion with Gary about that.
I continued on to where a yellow van sat parked near the stairs to Wendell’s office. Hmm, interesting. It hadn’t been there yesterday. Perhaps Wendell was planning a move of some sort. Walking over, I opened the van’s rear door and quickly looked inside for anything of interest. The interior was fully lined with foam rubber. Other than that, it stood empty. Maybe it was still waiting to be packed.
I vaulted up the steps two at a time, hoping to catch Wendell in the act of stashing away incriminating evidence. The cardboard manatee met me again at the top of the stairs, but with a new sign stuck in its fins today.
DO NOT ENTER. INTERVIEW IN PROGRESS.
I’d be damned if I’d knock and give Holmes prior warning. Instead, I simply barged through the door.
Wendell was sitting behind his desk with a girl in his lap, looking for all the world like the King of the Double-Wide Motor Homes. The only difference in his appearance today was the color of the shirt he wore. Lime green, it was garnished with the same pattern of coffee stains running down the front. That is, what I could see of it beyond Daisy Mae’s chest.
The babe nervously tittered upon my entry, and jumped off. Wendell’s reaction was to gruffly clear his throat.
“Thank you for stopping by, Miss Robbins. I’ll be in touch after I check out your references.”
“But I thought you said it was a done deal,” Miss Robbins primly reminded him, beginning to button her blouse.
“Of course. Everything’s in order. Just consider it a formality,” he hastily assured her.
“The job’s already mine,” she whispered, letting me know I didn’t stand a chance as she slipped out the door.
“Hiring another marine biologist?” I dryly inquired.
“As a matter of fact, I was just admiring her credentials,” he acknowledged with a grin.
It must have been tougher getting a job these days than I had imagined.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Miss Rachel? Is it possible that you drove all the way out here just to see me?”
No sooner had he finished the question than his eyes darted back to the doorway. “Just tell me you didn’t bring that cocky sonofabitch with you. What that boy needs is to find some good pussy and get himself laid. He oughta relax a little, if you know what I mean.”
Rising from his chair, Wendell sauntered around and perched his rear end on the desk, way too close to where I was standing.
“At least, it always works for me,” he said with a wink.
I promptly took a step backward.
“Now what can I do for you today, sugar?”
“I’ve learned some interesting things since my last visit,” I informed him. “One of which is that Clark Williams and his Golden Dreams development firm are the real owners of Manatee Mania.”
“Well, that’s just a buncha horseshit. Who’s filling your mind with that kinda rubbish?” Wendell questioned.
He didn’t wait for an answer, but flung the accusation off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s just one of my financial backers, is all. The fact is, I’m kinda like that fellow up in New York. You know who I mean—that Donald Trump. I believe it’s always smarter to run a business with other people’s money than your own. Of course, I also give credit where credit is due. Clark is fully in charge of expanding the water park.”
But my interest had been snagged by something he’d just said. “Then there are also other people besides Williams who have a financial interest in Manatee Mania?”
“Hell, when you put it that way, the entire county does. Do you know how many jobs we’ll provide by the
time we’re through developing this place?”
Wendell pulled at the crotch of his pants, as if construction were also going on down there.
I averted my gaze, only to spy three black-and-white photos up on one wall. They must have represented a holy trinity of heroes for Wendell. The trio consisted of George Wallace, Strom Thurmond, and Lester Maddox. Hanging from a nearby pole was the former state flag of Georgia, embellished with its large Confederate X.
Wendell saw me eyeing the banner. “I never could figure out why we had to go and change the state emblem. Hell, as one of our senators said, Pickup trucks, deer hunting, barefoot girls, and boiled peanuts—that’s what the Georgia flag represents!”
“Uh-huh. I think I read that in a history book somewhere,” I drolly responded.
“Enough chitter-chatter. I believe I know the real reason why you’re here,” Wendell informed me.
“Oh yeah? And why is that?”
“You’ve come to make up and be friends,” he coyly replied. “After all, it wasn’t very nice of you to threaten to close down my water park yesterday.”
“That wasn’t a threat, Wendell. It’s actually going to happen.”
Wendell yanked on the brim of his cap. “What the hell have you got against this place, anyway?”
“Let’s see. For one thing, you’ve got children swimming in that lagoon treating manatees like pieces of furniture. For chrissakes, they’re even trying to feed them pizza!”
“You don’t care very much for kids, do you?” he astutely observed.
“Not when they’re unsupervised. In addition to which, there’s not a properly trained person here who knows how to suitably care for manatees.”
Wendell opened his mouth to protest.
“And don’t give me any crap about Candi being a marine biologist,” I tersely warned him.
“For crying out loud, do you mean to tell me that she’s not?” he gasped, feigning surprise. “Well, how do you like that? And to think I never suspected she might be lying.” He clucked his tongue and slowly shook his head.
Coastal Disturbance Page 11
