Black Gold in North Dakota (Cooper Smith Book 2)

by Joe Field

  He spread his hands in frustration. “Again, I read and heard all those bad things you said about us roughnecks and I knew you wouldn’t talk to me. I had to get you in an environment so we could talk, just like we are doing now.”

  “How about this: I’ll promise to talk to you about anything, anytime, if you let me go. I’ll give you all of my phone numbers and email addresses. We can stay in touch for as long as you’d like.”

  “Where would you go?” asked Nash.

  “Back to Williston, of course.”

  Nash’s shoulders dropped. “That’s what I thought. I was hoping we could start a new life together somewhere where it’s warm. Maybe in Mexico or somewhere else in Latin America.”

  Gabby gave him a look of disbelief.

  “Come on, it would be fun,” said Nash. “We could live in an exotic place and really get to know each other. We’d both be so far removed from the frozen tundra of North Dakota, and away from all the oil problems.”

  “What about all of our family and friends? You just expect both of us to leave and never talk to them again?”

  He shrugged. “There are ways to communicate with them securely, once we are established somewhere remote. As for me, my parents died this year and I don’t talk to my brother anymore. I won’t be missed.”

  Gabby wanted to go off on this guy. She wanted to describe to him in detail how bizarre his fantasy really was. That she hadn’t even known him before he kidnapped her, drugged her, killed a guy, and brought her to the swamp in the middle of nowhere. Yes, Gabby wanted to lay into this guy good. But she didn’t. She decided to play his game to see where it would lead.

  “I don’t think we can properly get to know each other here in this swamp. In fact, I don’t even know what day it is down here, and I can’t think straight with the humidity and mosquitos buzzing around outside. I hate mosquito-infested areas. When are we leaving?”

  Nash’s eyes lit up. “Well, we’ve been here for almost a week, and I plan to stay for one more week while things settle down. Usually after ten days of looking, search crews give up and go back to business as usual. That is when we can make our break.”

  “One more week, huh?” Gabby looked over at the stove and saw Nash had made pasta. “Want to pass me a plate of that spaghetti?”

  Nash smiled and quickly jumped up to grab her a plate of food.

  Seven days of acting, thought Gabby. Then I make my great escape.

  Chapter 12

  Williston, North Dakota

  Cooper knew he should steer clear of a heavily lubricated Nickels at a bar in downtown Williston on a Friday night, but it had been almost a week since Gabby disappeared, and he needed answers. He wore a light disguise consisting of a baseball hat and a pair of old reading glasses that he found buried in his travel bag. He also decided to cut his beard into a mustache, partly to change his look but also to mirror Nickels. The beard trim was a tough decision, especially given the recent discovery of Fletcher’s beard oil, but he had to take every edge he could get.

  Soojin dropped Cooper off a few blocks from the bar, and he walked down the dimly lit street. As soon as Soojin was out of sight, Cooper lit up an American Spirit and fought the cold and wind as he raced to finish the cigarette before he arrived.

  He was now directly across the street from the bar, and he could see The Roughriders Watering Hole spelled out in cursive letters illuminated by bright neon-colored lights. Beside the name was an illuminated logo of a bucking bronco with a cowboy on its back. Cooper could see through the windows that the place was packed. About a dozen people stood outside smoking cigarettes and talking.

  Here goes nothing.

  Cooper stopped in the doorway to take in the scene. Country music blared overhead, and men in flannel shirts and baseball hats packed the bar. As they clinked glasses together, Cooper noticed most of the tables had two or three pitchers of beer on them. The whole place smelled like a great big beer bubble bath. The high-top tables were up front, occupied by groups of five to ten men standing around each of them. More men nestled up against a traditional long bar as they drank and ordered rounds. Four enormous flat-screen televisions playing a college hockey game hung over the bar—the Fighting Sioux of North Dakota against the Minnesota Gophers, airing live from the Ralph Englestad arena in Grand Forks.

  Cooper spotted Nickels at the bar, his flavor-saver of a mustache soaked through with beer. Cooper inched behind him toward another television that was playing the news and slid into an open chair in the back. A couple of waitresses were busy running around taking orders. One spotted him and asked what he was drinking as she walked past. She was young, maybe in her early to mid-twenties, and she was in a hurry. Cooper would not be her top buyer for the night, and she knew it.

  “One tall Summit on tap, please.” Cooper was impressed they carried the Saint Paul-based beer here in Williston.

  The waitress just nodded and dashed away into the crowd. Cooper looked over at the front door, then at Nickels, and then at his phone. He sent a text message.

  Center of the bar with a green hat on and ridiculous mustache.

  Then Cooper looked up at the television, which announced a breaking news alert. He couldn’t hear it, but scrolling subtitles reported a flash fire at a drill in Watford City late the night before. A kid from Fargo was killed instantly, and another man was airlifted to Regions Hospital in Saint Paul. When they showed the picture of the second man, Cooper recognized him right away.

  Marshall.

  He had suffered severe third-degree burns and was in critical condition.

  Not Marshall, that guy was a cool dude.

  Cooper thought about sharing the Natty Ice beer with Marshall in his RV as they talked football and Texas. He made a note to stop by and see him when he was back in Saint Paul. His phone dinged with a new message.

  Is his mustache as ludicrous as yours? :) Be right in.

  Cooper smiled and looked back up in time to see Soojin walk through the front door. She took off her coat and revealed her outfit.

  She was dressed to kill.

  She wore skintight black leather pants with knee-high black leather boots. Her bright red blouse was low-cut, and her hair was piled high. Cooper watched as the men from the other tables looked over at her. Some even whispered and pointed. The fact that she was a good-looking Korean-American didn’t stir much discussion in Saint Paul, but in Williston, she was an exotic spectacle.

  Soojin walked directly to the bar with all eyes trained on her. She leaned up against the bar rail right next to Nickels. Cooper watched the bartender head her way and then Nickels said something to him.

  Of course he would buy her a drink.

  Soojin said something in response to Nickels and they shook hands.

  Come on, Soojin. It’s all you now.

  It was a simple plan that they had rehearsed that afternoon. Cooper would go into the bar first and try to spot Nickels. Then he would sit somewhere out of the way. Soojin would then come in and hit on Nickels. She would try to get him to join her at a table and then she would elicit information about Nash, Doyle, and anything he knew about Gabby. Cooper would be there the whole time in case anything came up.

  Just like clockwork, Soojin pulled Nickels by the arm and the two of them started to move. But the only private tables were located directly behind Cooper. Before Nickels had turned all the way from his bar stool, Cooper quickly slid around the other side of the table so his back was to the room. Luckily, high-top booths stood on the other side of his table, so Cooper pretended to play on his phone as Soojin took Nickels by the arm past him. They slid into the first booth directly in front of Cooper. Even though it was just a couple feet away, Cooper couldn’t see either of them over the high booths. He couldn’t hear them either, so he slid back to the other side of the table so his back was right against the booth. He couldn’t make out what Soojin was saying, but Nickels was belligerent enough he could hear everything coming out of his mouth.

  “What di
d you say your name was again?” Nickels slurred.

  A brief pause for the response. “I’ve never met anyone named So-gin before,” said Nickels. “What’s that? Not So-gin, but Sue-gin? What is that, like Chinese or Japanese or something?”

  The waitress handed Cooper his beer and he took a big swig of it.

  “What brings you to Williston?” Nickels asked, followed by another pause. “Well, if you’re looking for some fun, I think you found the right place.”

  It killed Cooper that he couldn’t hear Soojin’s side of the conversation. It sounded like it was going pretty well, though. Soojin must have asked the question they rehearsed earlier: I want to have a lot of fun, but I’m nervous after hearing a news story about a girl that was kidnapped from around here last weekend.

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that. I knew the guys involved with that, and trust me, the one in charge will not harm a hair on that girl’s head.”

  The one in charge will not harm a hair on that girl’s head. What does that mean? Cooper had a new note up on his iPhone and was transcribing Nickels’ words.

  “I’ll tell you why,” said Nickels. “Nash was obsessed with that girl. He had some master plan about marrying her or something idiotic like that. He wouldn’t talk about it much, but I got him to share some details one night when we were drinking right here at this very bar.”

  Cooper’s mind was racing. If Nash didn’t kidnap her to kill her, but instead to try to stay with her, what happened to Doyle?

  “Doyle, I knew Doyle,” said Nickels. “The man was all foam and no beer. You know what I’m saying? He couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with instructions on the heel.”

  Real classy, Nickels. Great language to use around a sophisticated woman you’re trying to pick up.

  “Yeah, well my guess is Doyle went back down to some bayou in Louisiana to lay low,” said Nickels. “The dude practically lived out of a houseboat down there in the swamp near Houma. As for Nash and the girl? I’m sure they are in his hometown of Amarillo, or somewhere else in Texas playing house. Knowing Nash, the whore is probably begging him for sex by now.”

  That’s not going to sit well with Soojin.

  “You have to be rough with women, that’s what they really want,” said Nickels.

  Cooper tensed up. He had to check on her, even if he risked blowing his cover. He peered over the booth and saw Nickels make a reach for Soojin’s breast across the table. Soojin blocked Nickels’ hand and kicked him hard under the table. Soojin stood up from the booth and started to walk away. Nickels fell out of the booth sideways clutching his groin. He made a desperate lunge toward her with his fist and said, “You little—”

  Without looking back, she planted her front foot and drove her back leg straight toward Nickels. The back kick hit him square in his mouth. The force of her boot caused his front teeth to fall out, hitting the ground less than a second before his face and body landed.

  “That was badass,” said Cooper. “Now, let’s get out of here.”

  The two of them walked briskly toward the front of the bar. By now the group that was with Nickels saw the commotion. Three men came over and met Cooper and Soojin in the middle of the bar. The big one in the middle looked like a brawler, with a smashed-in nose and strike marks on his cheeks. The one on the left was tall and scrappy-looking, while the one on the right was a short, stocky man.

  Without breaking stride, the massive brawler in the center of the group came up and tried to throw a hook at Soojin’s head. She ducked his punch and raised her right knee, quickly executing a perfect front kick into the man’s groin. He collapsed immediately to the floor, grasping his genitals.

  The scrappy man on the left moved to take a swing at Soojin. Cooper sprinted at him and speared him with the best football tackle he had in him. They ran into a bar stool, and the man lost his breath as they collapsed into a heap on the floor.

  Cooper got back up and turned just in time to see Soojin strike the short, stocky man with a powerful sidekick to his neck as he charged her. He fell on top of the brawler gasping for air as he held his neck. Cooper dashed over to Soojin, briefly noting the looks of astonishment on the faces of the other patrons. Some even started to cheer.

  The two of them sprinted out of the bar’s front door into the cold December night. They ran all the way to the car, never looking back until they reached Fletcher’s driveway ten minutes later. Cooper put the car into park and looked over at Soojin. They were both out of breath, their adrenaline high. Cooper leaned over and gave Soojin a kiss.

  “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen you do.” Cooper grinned.

  Soojin scowled, licking her lips.

  “What is it?”

  “Did you smoke tonight?”

  I forgot to eat my licorice to cover up the taste of the American Spirits.

  “Just a quick one,” Cooper admitted. “I wanted to look casual as I was walking up to the bar.”

  “Casual, huh?”

  Cooper looked away in embarrassment. “Yeah, you know . . . I wanted to blend in so people wouldn’t notice me.”

  Soojin eyed him suspiciously. “If you really want to blend in, next time just shave your hideous mustache and you’ll never have to worry about smoking again.”

  Chapter 13

  Saint Paul, Minnesota

  Cooper begrudgingly left Wellstone at an auto garage in Williston for repairs while he and Soojin took a flight back to Saint Paul. Soojin had some important meetings with the governor this week so Cooper volunteered to head south to see what he could find out about Nash and Gabby. Cooper also made a point to shave his mustache off and start fresh on what he hoped would eventually turn into a decent beard so he could use his new beard oil.

  Soojin dropped Cooper off in front of MPR headquarters in downtown Saint Paul the morning after their return. Cooper stopped across the street from work for his daily ritual of reading the top headlines on the LED-lit scrolling ticker that ran across the length of the headquarters.

  Wednesday, December 10, 2014 – Millennials Developing a Reputation as Workplace Divas...

  Sounds like something Bill Anderson would have the banner engineer put up just to make a personal point, Cooper thought. Bill couldn’t stand millennials, even though they made up most of his staff. Cooper headed through the lobby and up the stairs to the third floor.

  The newsroom was a massive cubicle farm. The desks had low wall partitions so you could see and yell across the room to your fellow reporter or producer. People used to call it the gopher pit, because reporters would occasionally pop their heads up and call out a breaking news story. With Wild Bill around, it was a little more like whack-a-mole, since he could smash your head in at any second with his verbal attacks.

  Cooper worked in the general assignment reporting section, but had aspirations to work with the secretive and selective investigative reporting team. They sat in a different section on the other side of the third floor. The team was comprised of one senior editor and four investigative reporters, and rumor had it they were looking to expand the team.

  Need to get on that team soon, thought Cooper. Better stories and no more reporting to Wild Bill.

  Cooper got to his desk and threw his messenger bag on his chair. There was a post-it note on his screen.

  Come to my office before you do anything else, but leave your hair gel. -Bill

  Real funny, Bill.

  Cooper marched over to Bill’s office, but the door was closed. Cooper gently knocked.

  “Come in,” said Bill.

  Cooper opened the door and Bill waved him in.

  “Shut the door behind you,” said Bill.

  Sitting in front of Bill’s desk was Lisa Larson, Cooper’s adversary on the general assignments team. Lisa was the one person who stood in Cooper’s way of getting the next investigative team position. She was a solid reporter, and she wanted the job as much as he did.

  Cooper viewed his interactions with Lisa similar to how Jerry
Seinfeld and his antagonist, Newman the mailman, used to interact on the television show Seinfeld—it was comprised of a mutually shared wariness and constant sizing up of each other.

  Lisa turned and grinned at Cooper. She wore her signature fiery red glasses. Those things could be used by a matador in a bullfight instead of the traditional red cape. Lisa was the same age as Cooper, and tall and thin with long brown hair. Bill treated Lisa the same as Cooper because of the millennial “diva” stereotype he subscribed to.

  “Hello, Lisa.” Cooper eyed her suspiciously before looking over at his boss. “Bill, you wanted to see me right away? I can come back if you guys are in the middle of something.”

  “This concerns you both,” said Bill. “Take a seat.”

  This can’t be good.

  Cooper sat down next to Lisa, who didn’t acknowledge his greeting. Instead, Cooper turned his attention to Bill. Still on the good side of fifty, Bill’s lack of movement over decades combined with a bald head and chubby frame made him look about ten years older than he was. He wore his standard tight sweater vest, always and forever showcasing his potbelly.

  “Cooper, I’m adding Lisa as a second reporter on the North Dakota story.”

  “Woah,” said Cooper. “I know some things have come up this past week, but don’t you think it’s premature to—”

  Bill silenced Cooper with a wave of his hand. “No, this story is too big for even two reporters, let alone one who has a personal interest in it. I mean, I appreciate you checking in with me on a near daily basis, I really do. Your email updates helped me realize you have a couple major stories developing here. There is the oil-boom-turned-bust story with all the repercussions tied to that, and then there is the story of the kidnapping of the senator’s daughter. Lisa is going to help with the first story, and you can concentrate on the kidnapping story. In fact, I’m sending Lisa to interview some of the victims and families of the workers hit by the flash fire the other night in Watford City.”