He was probably right. We hurried on, only to stumble upon what appeared to be a manmade lake just south of the second building.
“Now you can see why I bring this bag wherever I go,” Gary remarked, while removing a jar. “Personally, I think I deserve a medal for diligence above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Would you settle for a brownie?” I proposed, secretly glad that Gary was such an obsessive maniac.
“That’ll do.”
Gary bent down, filled the container with a liquid sample, and then slapped a sticker on its surface. “Body of water south of cell building two,” he said aloud, writing the information on its label.
We continued toward the buildings when Gary flung out an arm, blocking my advance. I gazed down at where I’d been about to step.
“Well, lookee here,” he said, pointing to what could have been prehistoric bubbles preserved in a pool of dried mud. They looked like the metallic remnants of some dying creature’s last breath.
“Call me crazy, but I could almost swear that was mercury,” he observed. “Wouldn’t that just be ducky?”
“Oh God, I certainly hope not,” I said, unwilling to part with any brain cells. “But I suppose you better take a sample just in case.”
Gary pulled a clean jar from his bag and scraped a portion of mud and bubbles inside, carefully preserving the specimen.
“You’ve gotta wonder why mercury would be out here, if that’s really what it is,” Gary pondered, zipping his bag.
“That stuff is expensive.”
“I don’t know, but let’s continue on,” I proposed, anxious to get closer to the buildings.
We’d scarcely made a move when an angry voice stopped us dead in our tracks.
“Just what the hell do the two of you think you’re doing?”
Drapkin came flying toward us so fast that his feet barely touched the ground. “Unless you leave this instant, I intend to call the police and have you arrested on charges of trespassing.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I assured him, holding up my hands in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t think you’d mind if we simply walked around. Besides, I swear that I didn’t drop an endangered mouse anywhere.” The last thing I wanted was to have the Brunswick cops on my tail, especially since Drapkin had every right to order us off DRG property.
But Gary refused to let the matter drop.
“So what’s your problem, anyway?” Gary asked, scuffing his feet on the ground like a rebellious kid itching for a fight. “It’s not as if you’ve got something to hide, right?”
I glanced down and saw that he was kicking dirt toward the puddle of silver bubbles. Drapkin picked up on it as well, and the color rapidly drained from his face.
“I want you both out of here immediately,” he spat between clenched teeth.
“Okay, okay. Take it easy,” Gary pretended to placate him, all the while continuing to grind his feet into the dirt.
“Otherwise, you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”
“Now!” Drapkin hissed, nearly apoplectic.
“Come on, let’s go. We got what we need,” I urged, beginning to feel uneasy about the game being played.
Much more of this and I’d be forced to kick ass and break up a fight.
I grabbed Gary’s arm and began to pull him away. Drapkin followed along like a crazed watchdog as we made our way to the pickup. He even trailed us halfway down the drive as we drove toward the gate.
“Now there’s a guy who’s just a wee bit uptight, wouldn’t you say?” Gary snickered, peering into the rearview mirror.
“Yeah. But why did you have to go and bait him like that? It doesn’t help our case any.”
“It’s because those kind of guys drive me crazy. He thinks his money buys him the right to do whatever the hell he wants, while the rest of us poor slobs just have to deal with it. Wendell, Drapkin, Williams—they’re all alike. I’m checking out something in Florida right now that’s potentially so hot it would make your skin sizzle. Naturally, it involves another of these fat cats.”
“In other words, you’re making new friends wherever you go.” That’s what I loved about Gary. He was as popular as I was. “So tell me about it,” I said, settling down for a good story as we headed toward DRG’s gates.
But Gary shook his head. “Uh-uh. The time’s not right yet. Besides, our plate’s already full at the moment.”
“Well, in that case, you better get cracking on whatever it is that we’ve got in those vials. I’ll be damned if you’re going to start on something else without me.”
“Aye, aye Pepper. Your wish is my command,” he laughed, as we turned onto Highway 17.
A warm breeze tumbled into the cab. Surfing on its current were a bunch of ragtag gnats that voraciously zeroed in on my skin. I swatted at my neck and arms, knocking the pesky little suckers off one by one, until they’d finally been decimated. Then pulling back my hand, I stared at the drops of blood as the realization hit me. There had been no bugs on DRG’s grounds.
We’d been so preoccupied that neither Gary nor I had given it much thought. But there hadn’t been a sound. No birds, no insects, nothing had been around. I hadn’t seen one mink running past us on the grounds, nor had any blackbirds crowed. There’d been no sign of life at all. The silence had been so complete, we could have been buried six feet underground.
A cold sweat broke out on my skin, even though the day was warm. I jumped as a squeak pierced the air. It was Gary shifting about in his seat. But the sound I’d heard was a coffin lid being closed. It came along with the growing awareness that we’d been inside a dead zone.
Thirteen
Gary went into his office to begin testing as I got in my vehicle and took off. My pulse picked up its beat, until it was in direct competition with my tires, as they sped round and round. It wasn’t a wildlife case that had my heart revving, with every cell in my body primed. Rather, it was the message that had been left on my answering machine. Santou would be home tonight.
I ran into a fancy excuse for a deli and grabbed my version of survival gear—a couple of prepared meals. My philosophy has always been, Why cook if you don’t have to? Especially when somebody has already gone to the trouble of placing gourmet fare in conveniently frozen packages?
My next stop was the wine store, where I carefully chose a couple of bottles based solely on their labels. Why stop there? I stocked up on vodka and bourbon while I was at it. A quick detour for candles and I was in the homestretch.
That is until I flew by a dress shop and Venus Monroe’s School of Woman Power popped into my mind. The next thing I knew, I was inside the store trying on outfits like Goldilocks on a shopping craze. But this was where Venus and I parted ways. I wasn’t looking for anything too short, skimpy, or tight. Nor did I have any desire to pretend I was Mariah Carey or Jennifer Lopez tonight. Instead, I simply wanted to be myself, with all that it implied. But for one exception—I planned to wear something that would drive Santou totally wild.
I found the perfect dress. Sheer and off-the-shoulder, the fabric draped itself against my every curve. Equally captivating was the color, nicely contrasting with my skin, hair, and eyes. I gazed at myself in the mirror and knew it would do the trick. Only while driving home did I realize that I’d seen the same shade of blue on Venus Monroe’s house.
I put it out of my mind as I pulled in the drive, rushed up the steps, and unlocked the front door. I quickly showered and slipped into my new frock. Then turning on the oven, I set the table, lit the candles, and uncorked the wine. Everything was in perfect seduction order. Whoever said that watching Sex in the City had no redeeming value? Hell, I even switched on those little lobster lights that Santou liked so much. Then I curled up on the couch, hiking my dress up along my legs just so.
I’ve always wanted to be a bad girl with eyes that smolder, a deep throaty voice, and lips that look permanently wet. Lauren Bacall and Kathleen Turner move over. I longed to be the type of woman th
at men adore, a sexy siren who magically made their blood pressure soar. But tonight especially, I wanted to make Jake’s heart ache with desire. So much so that he’d stop dead in his tracks at the very sight of me.
A vehicle pulled up, and my pulse began to race as a car door opened and closed. Footsteps hit the ground like fireworks exploding in the night. Then Santou walked into the house.
The man was a study in contradiction as he looked around, his eyes lighting up in surprise. Yet, I could tell something was eating away at him. The tip-off was the frown that tugged at his mouth. Then his eyes landed on me, and I knew that things weren’t all right. By now, he should have swept me off my feet and into his arms in delight.
“Hey, chère. What’s the occasion?” he asked, his lips barely brushed against mine. “You’re all dressed up tonight.”
I shrugged, not wanting to show my disappointment. “I just felt like a change, is all.”
“Great. Now if you’d only apply that same philosophy to other areas in your life,” he quipped.
I walked to the table and poured myself a large glass of wine. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that I’d like to know what it is you’ve gotten yourself involved in this time.”
This always happened when Jake found out I was working on a case that he didn’t like. It had nearly broken us up in the past. Though Santou tried to be enlightened about things, he still couldn’t seem to keep his nose out of my business.
I looked at the candles, smelled our dinner in the oven, and tried not to destroy the night. Instead, I took a deep breath and swallowed my annoyance.
“I already told you. I gave this guy, Clark Williams, a ticket on a game violation, and then learned that he’d once been an Interior Department bigwig.”
But Santou wasn’t buying it. “Uh-uh. Something else is going on,” he insisted.
Shit! “Okay. It happened while you were away. I had another run-in with Williams over some crazy water park on St. Simons. The place not only has endangered manatees, which must have been illegally obtained, but they’re also being used as amusement rides. Williams has a stake in the place, along with his front man, Wendell Holmes. Anyway, I tried to have the park closed down and the manatees removed. But Williams beat me to the punch; endangered species be damned. Evidently, he still has plenty of friends and influence back in D.C. Before I could say boo, Manatee Mania was granted an emergency permit to stay open.”
Clark Williams’s warning once again came back to taunt me. Learn to run with the big boys, or get crushed.
I almost mentioned it to Santou, but was afraid that he might agree. Which is why I was surprised when Jake nodded, as if he knew all too well what I was talking about. However rather than empathize, he proceeded to drill me with yet another question.
“What else are you digging into?”
I was tempted to tell him about my meeting with Drapkin at DRG, along with the excessive amount of mercury in the marsh, but quickly decided against it. Knowing Jake, he’d insist that I play it safe and pass the case on to Georgia’s Environmental Protection Division. That was the last thing I intended to do. Especially since I was now aware that Drapkin and Williams were friends. Politics had already proved itself to have far-reaching tentacles. Who knew just how deeply the old boy network here was connected? Speaking of which, Santou seemed to have one of his own going when it came to knowing way too much about what I was up to.
“That’s it. Nada. Nothing more,” came my snappy response. “So, now do you want to tell me what’s up with all the questions?”
I received my answer as Jake reached into his jacket and handed me a piece of paper.
Unfolding it, I quickly scanned the contents. The first thing I noticed was that this wasn’t the original document, but a Xeroxed copy. The second was that it had been stamped CONFIDENTIAL. Then my eyes lit upon the salutation and I realized I was in very deep shit. The letter was addressed to Bob Montgomery, Fish and Wildlife’s Regional Director for the Southeast. In essence, it warned that something had to be done about Rachel Porter.
“For chrissakes Bob, can’t you keep control over your own agents? That woman is running amuck down here.”
Of equal interest were that the letters m.f. preceded each mention of my name. But the real shocker was when I reached the end and discovered the identity of its author—Clark Williams. Damn, but that man had one hell of a big Rolodex!
“It’s just a wild guess, but I’m betting those letters m.f. don’t stand for ‘my friend’ Rachel Porter,” Jake wryly noted.
“How did you manage to get this?” I asked, beginning to feel ill, even as the first stirrings of exhilaration raced through my veins.
“Let’s just say it was passed on by a friend.”
Santou pulled a toothpick from his pocket, placed it between his teeth, and began to chew on it.
Better a toothpick than me, I thought, resolutely keeping my mouth shut.
“Cut the crap Rachel, and tell me what’s really going on.”
I gave my hair a nonchalant toss, going for my best Kathleen Turner imitation. “I’d be happy to, if I had any idea.”
Then I held my breath and waited.
Santou continued to skewer me with his eyes, but I could tell that he was beginning to waver. Reaching over, he took the wine glass from my hand and polished off its contents.
“Let me give you a word of advice then. Clark Williams is a very powerful man. Back off while you still can,” he warned, his fingers rubbing a furrow into his brow. “Whatever you’re digging into, it’s not worth it.”
You don’t know, you don’t know, you don’t know, I silently thought.
That message branded itself in my brain, along with the rush that always comes with starting out on a high-stakes case. I could already feel the thrill tunneling its way deep into my bones. This was the one that would kick me up the career ladder where I belonged. I was suddenly giddy with excitement—until I took another look at Santou and realized that something was still wrong.
“Okay, it’s my turn. What’s going on with you?”
He shrugged and a renegade curl tumbled down onto his forehead.
“Oh, come on. You just gave me the third degree. I deserve some information in return,” I cajoled.
Santou didn’t say a word, but I could sense the darkness coursing through him, as dangerous as an undertow. This was precisely what had attracted me to the man in the first place. His eyes settled upon me with their predatory gaze, as though he knew it as well.
“I’m doing some undercover work and think I might have been made.”
My stomach twisted into a sickening knot. How could I have been such a jerk as to assume that all his worries had to do with me? I should have known there were other issues at play.
“Then you have to pull out of the case right away,” I flatly stated.
But Santou stubbornly shook his head. “I can’t. I’m not absolutely certain, and it would only destroy all our hard work.”
“Isn’t that going to happen anyway if your cover is blown?” I edgily questioned. “Not to mention that you could be killed.”
“You know perfectly well that’s what comes with the territory,” Santou reminded me. “Besides, aren’t you the woman who loves to take risks?”
He held my eyes until I blinked and looked away.
“So, who is this guy who might have recognized you?” I finally asked, the words sticking like cardboard in my throat.
Santou’s hand crash-coursed through his hair, and the lines in his face deepened. “Someone from my old drinking days.”
There it was—the tantalizing hint of a past that had still barely been revealed. I was tempted to ask if it was a man or a woman, when the realization hit me.
“You wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if you’d taken that job offer in D.C.”
This must have been why the FBI had never wanted him in Savannah. Santou knew too many people around the area for his own go
od.
“But then I wouldn’t be here with you,” Jake said, and flashed a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. It’ll all work out.”
Santou had sacrificed more than I’d imagined by coming along to Georgia. A layer of guilt snuck up from behind and firmly grabbed hold of me. My way of working it out was to get some more wine. But Santou gripped my arm and pulled me against him.
“Hey, you haven’t yet given me a proper welcome home.”
The words merged with the pounding of my adrenaline.
“And just what do you think this dress was for?” I retorted, my voice resonating so deep that it could have made Lauren Bacall sound like a soprano.
“It’s what’s under the dress that I’m interested in.”
Santou proved it as his hands now played hide-and-seek, causing the garment to fall from my breasts to my feet. I twined my fingers in his hair, and held on for dear life, as the career ladder I’d begun to climb was swiftly kicked out from under me, swept away in a wave of passion. All that mattered at this moment was satiating the hunger that ravaged me. That, and letting Santou know just how much I loved him.
I wrapped my legs around the man and slipped ever closer to the edge of the abyss. Then gathering all my courage, I released control and let go, knowing that Santou was more than just my soulmate. He’d become part of my very soul.
The room was black when I awoke, and the bed felt cold beside me. I tried to roll over to see if Santou was there, but found I couldn’t move a muscle. I lay flat on my back, beginning to realize that my arms and legs were paralyzed. I broke into a cold sweat, feeling more frightened than I’d ever been in my life.
Thank God for Santou. He’d know what to do. I began to call his name, only to discover that I had no voice. My fear now turned to panic.
It was then I remembered Eight-Ball’s story about the hag who had ridden him through the night. Either that’s what this was, or I was experiencing a full-blown panic attack.
An invisible weight began to cut off my breath, as the implication of Clark Williams’s letter now fully registered. If Williams and Fish and Wildlife’s Regional Director were in cahoots, then I was completely on my own except for Gary. The two of us would have to uncover whatever was going on together. That was, if I didn’t suffocate here tonight.
Coastal Disturbance Page 16
