by Amy Allgeyer
I try to see things from her side. What was it like to be stuck in prison knowing Granny was dying, knowing she might not even see her again.
“I guess it was pretty hellish on your side too.”
Mom crawls over and puts her hands on my knees. “You did great.”
I bite my cheek, which feels like hamburger after the last twenty-four hours, and count to three. She’s never told me that before. She’s never told me anything LIKE that before. “I did my best.”
She squeezes my legs. “I’ll get school figured out,” she says. “You leave that to me.”
“Really?”
MFM taking on a responsibility, taking care of me, is totally unprecedented.
“Thanks.”
“It’s my job,” she says.
It was always your job, snarky me thinks. But I don’t say it. I just smile.
I’m trying too.
Forty-Five
Ashleigh’s dressed perfectly—ponytail, jeans, button-down shirt. She’s so cute, I want to pinch her cheeks. It doesn’t make me like her any more though, especially when Dobber tells her how great she looks.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’m nervous. You’re sure this is going to work?”
“Yes,” I say for the twelve billionth time. I don’t blame her for worrying though. If things don’t go as planned, it’s a sure bet her dad’s going to lose his job. And God only knows what’ll happen to the Dobbers. And me.
We’re waiting in the lobby of Peabody Mining, along with Mr. Dobber, who’s wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. He looks nothing like the man I met two months ago and the receptionist doesn’t seem to have recognized him. I’m undercover too, having dyed my hair with red Kool-Aid and put on an absurd amount of makeup. Dobber’s just wearing a baseball hat and trying to look small. It’s pretty hard to disguise him, but Ashleigh said the mine’s reception area is always empty, so hopefully no one will come in while we’re waiting.
We’re here, supposedly, as a group from the Future Business Leaders of America, led by his darling niece, to interview Mr. Peabody as a successful local businessman. That’ll get us into Peabody’s office where we’ll launch our plan.
Dobber leans close to me and whispers, “You look good too.”
“Liar.” But I smile a little.
A door opens, and a woman sticks her head out. “Ashleigh?”
She leaps to her feet.
“Your uncle’s ready for you, hon.” The woman watches as we all make for the door.
I try to stay in front of Mr. Dobber, who’s wheezing a little from the effort of carrying the camera. He keeps his head down as he maneuvers past her. I pretty much hold my breath until she seats us in a conference room and leaves us alone.
“Okay,” I say. “Set up the camera there in the corner. Ashleigh, you sit at the head of the table with Peabody. Dobber, you stand behind them with the mic.”
They get set up while I open my laptop and connect Ashleigh’s iPhone to it. Next I mute the computer, open Skype, and call Iris. She answers right away.
“I have your sound turned down,” I whisper. “You ready?”
She gives me a smile and a thumbs-up. A giant newsroom spreads out behind her. Typical Iris, she picked a perfect spot. It’s so good to see her, I’m smiling like a lunatic when Peabody walks in.
“Ho, what’s this?” he says, all fake cheery. “I gotta whole team o’ Plurd County’s finest!” He puts his arm around Ashleigh. “Hey there, darlin’. How’s things?”
“Hey, Uncle Robert.”
Doing my best not to gag, I hide my face. Ashleigh takes over, and I thank the gods she agreed to do this job. She has her uncle’s full attention, talking about Easter plans and Sunday dinner, distracting him completely while Dobber crouches in the corner, pretending to work on the mic stand. Mr. Dobber’s doing the same in his corner with the camera. Head down, I plug in a separate webcam, set it next to my computer, and hope like crazy Peabody doesn’t notice it.
“I know you’re busy,” Ashleigh says. “So let’s get started.”
Peabody winks and says, “Whatever you say, boss.”
I’d want to peel my skin off if I were her, but she just smiles, gives me a quick glance, and dives in. “Is there any truth to the rumor that you falsified the water quality tests from people’s wells a few years back?”
His smile slips, then goes back up. “What? Who told you that?”
“I did,” I say.
His eyebrows go up. “Ms. Briscoe.” He leans back in his chair, glancing at the camera. “I’m surprised to see you.”
Ignoring him, I spread the pairs of test results I managed to collect from some of the other failing wells on the table. “These reports,” I say, gesturing to the left row, “were mailed by the county to the property owners. But these are the ones the testing company has on file as the actual results from the test. As you can see, the ones the county sent out all show the water to be safe.” I stare at Peabody. “Which you know is a lie.”
“I don’t know anything about this.” Peabody tries to scoot his chair back to stand, but Dobber is right behind him, pinning him in.
“How do you suppose these reports got changed, Mr. Peabody?” I ask.
His face is a politician’s mask—warm smile, fake concern. “Look, this is the first I’ve heard about any of this. But I assure you, we will absolutely look into it.”
I screw up my face. “Why would the mine look into it? Wouldn’t that be the county’s job?”
His smile just widens. “Well, of course. But as an important member of the community, I will certainly encourage the county commissioners to check into this.”
“You know what’s odd here?” I say. “It’s that the mine had anything to do with the testing in the first place.”
“What’s odd?” Peabody asks. “We paid for the test at the request of the county. They’d had some complaints about local wells, and we wanted to provide some reasonable assurance that our new mining procedures were safe.” He’s in full PR mode now. “Obviously, we want to make sure no one is getting hurt or sick. As important as the mine is to the local economy, it’s certainly not worth that.”
God, I’d love to punch him in the face right now. Watch some of his precious, perfectly healthy red blood drip over his shiny new suit.
“So aside from paying the fees, Peabody mining had nothing else to do with the test?” I ask as innocently as I can.
Peabody narrows his eyes. “None at all, to my knowledge.”
He seems to have forgotten about the camera and the microphone entirely. “So this signature here. And here. And …” I gather up the papers and pretend to scrutinize them. “Actually on all these reports. The signature that says Dewey Dobber. You have no idea who that is?”
His smile tightens. “Well, of course I know Dewey. He was an employee of mine some years back.” He turns to his niece. “Ashleigh, I’m surprised at you, getting involved in this ridiculousness.”
“When Mr. Dobber took the samples for this water test, was he employed by you then?”
“Absolutely not. You can check with human resources.” He answers so fast and so confidently, I have no doubt that’s exactly what the records would say. “His employment ended several months before the testing even began.”
“Bullshit.” Mr. Dobber lays the camera against the wall and steps forward.
Peabody’s left eyebrow twitches, but that’s the only sign of surprise. I read once that true psychopaths can control their reactions completely, no matter what’s happening around them. I wonder if Peabody has to list that on his driver’s license.
I glance at my computer screen, where Iris is taking this all in like a soap opera.
“You yerself told me to take them samples,” Mr. Dobber says. “And when the results come back, you gave me a sheet with safe water leve
ls on it and told me to pull out the ones that was outside the safe range.”
“None of that happened,” Peabody says, smiling. “I think you’re a little confused.” He looks at Ashleigh. “And I think we all know why.”
“Yeah, I know. I been on meth a long time.” Mr. Dobber reaches into his coat pocket, and for a second, I think he has a gun or a knife. But all he pulls out is a piece of paper, which seems to be his weapon of choice. “But the bank don’t lie. This here’s the record of my last paycheck deposit from the mine. Dated three weeks after the water samples was taken.”
Peabody’s face doesn’t move, but I sense a change. There’s no condescending smile. No gentle rebuttal. Just silence. He’s getting worried.
“Turn that camera off,” he says at last.
Mr. Dobber reaches over and presses a button. The shutter slides closed.
“What do you want?” Peabody asks. “Money? A job? A new house? I’m sure we can come to some agreement. You have my word.”
I glance at Mr. Dobber, silently willing him, Don’t believe it. He’ll promise you the moon and kill you the second you walk out the door.
Mr. Dobber busts out a giant belly laugh. I’ve never heard him laugh before. It’s an amazing sound, like rumbly music. “You gotta be kiddin’ me. I wouldn’t take your word for where to shit in the woods.”
I open my notebook and lay it on the table. “We have a list of demands.” I launch into it before Peabody has a chance to speak. “One hundred thousand dollars for the Dobbers. One hundred thousand dollars for Ashleigh’s grandfather. One hundred thousand dollars for—” I wrote up the demands before Granny passed away. Now I don’t know what to say, and even if I did, I couldn’t get it past the enormous lump in my throat.
“For the estate of Kathryn Briscoe,” Ashleigh says.
I blink a thank-you and get a rare half smile from her.
“Plus, the same restitution for anyone else who was given a falsified water report and develops health issues.”
He tries again to stand. This time, Dobber claps his ham-sized hands on his shoulders and forces him down. Peabody makes an effort to collect himself. “Is this a joke? I can’t go handing out a hundred thousand dollars to anybody who happens to get sick.”
I continue. “In addition, your application for the proposed mine expansion will be canceled. You’ll stop the MTR practices at the top of Tanner’s Peak. You’ll pump out and carry away the contents of the containment pond. And finally …” I pause. This was MFM’s idea and I’m a little jealous that I didn’t come up with it first. “Finally, you’ll extend city water to every house in the valley.”
There’s not a sound in the room. Then Peabody tilts his head to the ceiling and laughs softly. For a long time. It starts to piss me off. “I’ll hand it to you, Ms. Briscoe. You certainly know how to make a Christmas list. But you realize, none of that’s going to happen, right?”
“Oh really?”
“No. Because you have no proof Peabody mining had any knowledge of any of this.”
“Proof?” I look at the reports still in my hand. “What do you call this? I think the EPA will be very interested in the discrepancies in these reports.”
“Again, there’s no proof the mine had anything to do with those.”
“True,” I say. “But do you really think they’ll care who’s responsible? I think they’ll be more concerned that the drinking water at the base of your MTR mine is basically poison. That they’ll care about.”
Peabody goes still, like a fish in a bucket that knows it’s caught and is trying to be invisible. Everyone’s silent. The seconds drag by. My hopes climb with every heartbeat. Finally, “Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“Ten thousand to you, the Dobbers here, and Ashleigh’s grandfather.”
“That was one hundred thousand each. Plus restitution for anyone else who was given the fake water report.”
“Fine.” He’s too calm. I realize he thinks he’ll find a way out of this. Like always. But our sleeves are still packed with aces.
“And,” I add, “assurance that Ashleigh’s dad won’t lose his job.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” Ashleigh smiles. “I had a nice conversation with Donna Pruitt yesterday.”
This is Ashleigh’s ace.
“I’m sure Aunt Karin would love to know more about your ex-secretary’s new baby.” The disgust on Ashleigh’s face is about ten times the hatred she’s ever shown me.
Peabody’s jaw is clenched so tight, I swear I can hear his teeth cracking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.”
Peabody turns back to me. “You have no idea what you’re asking for. Extending the city water system will cost millions.”
“Probably,” I say. “But since Peabody Mining is so concerned about the safety of Ebbottsville’s residents, I’m sure the cost is the least of your concerns.” I smile brightly. “Right?”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine.” I can hear the wheels spinning in his head. He’ll get rid of the Dobbers and me—car wrecks, fires, disappearances. And maybe he can bribe Ashleigh. Clothes? A new car? College?
“One more thing.” I spin my computer around. He stares at Iris’s face and the newsroom behind her. I hold up the webcam. “This is my friend Iris. She works for the Washington Recorder.”
His face turns white under his fake tan.
“She has our entire conversation recorded, plus copies of these reports. She’ll hold on to them for safekeeping. But if anything—I mean anything—happens to the Dobbers or Ashleigh or me—”
“Or Daddy or Granddaddy,” Ashleigh adds.
“Right. If anything happens to basically anyone we know, Iris takes the tape to her boss and all hell breaks loose,” I say. “Forget about the EPA snooping around. You’ll have CNN, ABC, MSN, all the letters you can imagine poking their noses in at the mine. With that kind of scrutiny, God only knows what they might come across.” I cross my arms. That’s my ace played.
“Sounds fun, huh, Uncle Robert?” Ashleigh’s enjoying this even more than I am.
Peabody glares at her, but he looks different now, like something inside, something that used to be straight and unyielding has been broken.
“I think we’re all done here,” I say.
“We’ll take them checks now though,” Mr. Dobber says. “Save you a trip later.”
“This is extortion,” he says.
“It’s a drop in the bucket compared to what you owe Granddaddy,” Ashleigh argues.
“That was business,” Peabody replies.
“Call it what you want.” She takes out a pair of scissors. For the second time this afternoon, I’m pretty sure there’s going to be bloodshed. And for the second time, I’m wrong. Ashleigh just snips off a piece of Peabody’s hair. “I call this insurance. DNA doesn’t lie.”
“I suppose you want some money too,” Peabody says, eyeing the scissors.
“Nope,” Ashleigh replies. “I want that city water extended right away.” She holds up the lock of hair. “We’ll have DNA results from Donna’s baby in two weeks. If construction hasn’t started by then, I’m taking them straight to Aunt Karin.”
Peabody explodes. “Projects like that can’t get started that fast.”
“You’ve got all those diggers and employees sitting up on Tanner’s Peak that can’t do anything now.”
“We need permits and county approvals. It takes time!”
“I’m sure you’ll work out something.” She smiles. “Checks, please.”
There’s silence in the room for a minute. Then, to my surprise, Mr. Peabody pulls out his checkbook and writes three identical checks with a freaking astronomical amount of zeros, tears them out, and hands one each to Ashleigh, Mr. Dobber, and me.
“Thanks, Unc. See you at Eas
ter dinner?”
Peabody glares at her. Ashleigh folds the check, shoves it into her pocket, and walks out.
We gather the equipment and head for the door. Dobber stops next to Peabody.
“You can get up now.”
The man stands, straightening his coat.
Dobber sets the mic on the table. “Just one more thing,” he says.
Peabody’s head snaps back before I realize Dobber punched him. Blood pours from the man’s nose, dripping on the front of his white button-down shirt. He’s gasping in pain, his hands held over his face.
“That’s for my daddy,” Dobber says.
Outside, we toss our stuff into the trunk of Ashleigh’s car and climb in. Dobber’s bent nearly double in the backseat with me. Everyone’s high-fiving and congratulating each other. Considering our plan worked, I should be celebrating too. But I can’t stop thinking about Granny.
“It was a good plan.”
I look up to see Ashleigh staring at me in the rearview mirror.
“Thanks,” I say. “You did great.”
“Ever’body did,” Mr. Dobber adds.
We drive under the shadow of the billboard. Coal Keeps the Lights On. It’s funny that a company that keeps the lights on also keeps so many people in the dark.
Funny but not.
Ashleigh drops us off at Granny’s drive. As Mr. Dobber heads for the springhouse to pack up their stuff, Dobber walks up the driveway with me.
“Where will you go?” I ask.
“Straight to the bank,” he says, grinning. “Then to the hotel. Cousin Burnett’ll put us up for a couple weeks till the check clears.”
I think of how much his life has changed in the last thirty minutes. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. You okay?” he asks.
“I guess?” I’m not sure how okay is supposed to feel right now. If it’s empty and sad and tired, then yes, I’m okay.
He puts his arm around my shoulders. “Your granny was a heck of a lady. I’ma miss her a lot.”
