Black Gold in North Dakota (Cooper Smith Book 2)

by Joe Field

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” Lisa took a bite of her caramel roll.

  Cooper took that as an invitation to finish his sandwich.

  “It’s interesting you thought you were being followed.” Cooper scanned the diner to see if anyone was looking at them, then lowered his voice. “When I was down in Texas, I thought the same thing. I can’t say for sure, but I believe there was a vehicle following me as I went from place to place looking for clues about the kidnapper.”

  “Any idea who it could have been?” asked Lisa.

  Cooper shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. Why would someone be following me in Texas?”

  “Not sure,” said Lisa. “Say, I’m just going to wrap up a few more interviews here and then head back to Wisconsin for Christmas.”

  “Well, I’ll be around the rest of the afternoon in case something comes up,” said Cooper. “But I’m heading down to Houston tonight, and Louisiana tomorrow morning, so I’ll be gone for a few days.”

  Lisa looked up from her laptop and smiled the smile of a chess player who knew she had her opponent in checkmate. “Good luck with that,” she said sarcastically, then put her headphones back in.

  “Thanks a million.”

  ◆◆◆

  Cooper slowed Wellstone down on the highway heading out of Williston and turned his signal light on for the turn into the Hanson driveway. As he neared it, a black vehicle pulled out and turned away from him. It had the unmistakable taillights of a Dodge Charger.

  For Pete’s sake, what is with this car? First Texas, now here?

  Then he remembered where else he had seen a black Dodge Charger—when he met that private investigator at Hanson’s house.

  But why would he follow me all the way to Texas?

  Cooper parked next to Soojin’s vehicle. Popping a piece of licorice into his mouth, he smelled his jacket to make sure the cigarette scent wasn’t too strong. Then he went up to the front door. Once again, Senator Hanson opened it before Cooper could knock.

  “Hello, Cooper. Great to see you again.” Mark gave Cooper a firm handshake.

  “Nice to see you again too, senator. I hope you and Sydney are doing okay.”

  “Come on in out of the cold.” Mark slapped Cooper’s back as he pulled him inside.

  The scent of freshly baked goods wafted into the entryway. Cooper took a deep breath. “It smells wonderful in here.”

  “Syd normally bakes her world-famous annual Christmas cookies, but because of her health I took a stab at making them this year. I wasn’t going to make them with Gabby being gone, but Syd convinced me to do it anyway so you and Soojin could enjoy a treat with us before you head out on your trip.”

  Cooper took his coat off, and Mark hung it up on a hook. “That’s really nice; you didn’t have to do that.”

  Mark waved him into the living room. “Not a problem. Come on in and join us.”

  The two men walked into the living room, where Soojin and Sydney sat talking on the couch. A fire was lit, and a few Christmas lights hung over the fireplace, but Cooper guessed it was less festive than usual considering the circumstances. He couldn’t even spot a Christmas tree or any stockings.

  Sydney looked pale and fragile as she sat close to the fireplace. Cooper could only imagine the toll her body had taken from the cancer and rounds of treatment.

  “Hello, Cooper.” Sydney waved to greet him. “Please, have a seat. Care for some hot apple cider and Christmas cookies?”

  “That would be wonderful, thank you.” Cooper waved and smiled at Soojin, but she didn’t return it. Her face was drawn.

  When Sydney turned to say something to Mark, Cooper gave Soojin a puzzled look. Are you mad at me? he mouthed.

  From the couch, Sydney asked, “Soojin do you care for any more?”

  “Yes, please,” Soojin said, ignoring Cooper’s question.

  What the heck did I do now? he wondered.

  Sydney motioned for Mark to grab the drinks and desserts. Mark reached for a tray on a nearby table with a mug of hot cider and two plates of Christmas cookies. He handed the mug and one plate to Cooper, and the other to Soojin.

  “Thank you so much,” said Cooper. “Looks delicious.”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Soojin.

  “They’re not too bad for his first-ever attempt at making Christmas cookies.” Sydney started to laugh but covered her mouth as she broke into a muffled cough.

  Mark sat down next to Cooper on the other couch. “So, are you guys ready for your trip down to Louisiana? Is there anything else we can do to help?”

  “We should be good,” said Soojin.

  Cooper shifted his attention from Soojin to Mark. “Thanks for letting us leave our vehicles here, and for offering to drive us to the airport tonight.”

  “It’s not a problem,” said Mark. “You guys are our best hope of finding Gabby. We are getting nowhere with law enforcement. They keep talking about limited resources, and the low percent chance of ever finding her again given the number of days she has been gone. Plus, with the holiday all efforts have basically stopped.”

  “That’s terrible,” said Soojin. “You would think your pull with the city and state elected officials would get you more resources.”

  Mark stroked his chin, gazing into the fireplace. “Well, I think Governor Simmons was behind sending that private investigator, Wheeler. I know he offered to help, but he’s not known for his pro bono work. Plus, he’s worked on cases with the governor in the past, so it only makes sense.”

  “Did he just leave your house driving the Dodge Charger?” asked Cooper.

  “Yes,” said Mark. “He didn’t have much of anything for me, other than to say he has been doing some traveling to see if he can help chase down some leads on Gabby.”

  Before taking a bite of a cookie, Cooper looked over at Soojin. When she wouldn’t meet his eyes, he turned back toward Mark. “Did Wheeler say where he went?”

  “He went down to Texas,” said Mark. “He refuses to fly, so he complained about the long drive.”

  A sweat began to break out on Cooper’s skin. Ignoring it, he bit into a cookie. “This is delicious,” he told Mark. “I never would have known it was your first time.” Cooper winked at Sydney.

  Sydney forced a smile, and her hands shook as she reached for the cookie tray. “I’m glad they turned out okay.”

  Cooper returned his attention to Mark. “Say, do you know when Wheeler left on his last trip, and how long he was gone?”

  Mark narrowed his eyes as he thought. “I guess he left about a week ago, and he just got back these past few days.”

  The timing checks out. Something smells like lutefisk here.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” said Cooper, “how well do you know Governor Simmons and Lieutenant Governor Thompson?”

  Mark readjusted himself in his seat. “Probably a little better than I wish I did. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know if Soojin told you, but we met with the two of them last night in Bismarck at a restaurant. They invited us to dinner to ask about how the search for Gabby was going, and Governor Simmons also gave Soojin a gift to give to Governor Knutson.”

  Mark’s gaze on Cooper became intent. “What else did they say?”

  Soojin cut in. “It was the strangest thing. They were talking about you, and telling us how you make up stories, and that you were having health issues. I know that’s not true, though. Why would they say that?”

  Mark glanced over at Sydney, but her eyes were trained on her mug of cider. “Those rotten, no good . . .” Mark let his voice trail off as he clenched his teeth. Then he composed himself and looked back at Cooper.

  “Do you remember when I told you I wanted to give you a story after you found Gabby?”

  Cooper set his plate of cookies down. “Yes, of course.”

  “Well, I won’t go into the details, but it involves both of them. They know what I know about them, and they clearly want to discredit
me.”

  Mark patted Cooper on the shoulder. “I won’t lie, my hands aren’t totally clean, either,” he said. “The governor knows that. When you’ve been in politics for as long as I have, you end up with some skeletons in your closet.”

  “Yeah, but what—”

  Mark waved Cooper off. “Go find Gabby, and we will arrange a time when we can meet and I can give you a story that will make waves across our state and beyond.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait until then.” Cooper nodded, then noticed that Soojin was glaring at him. Cooper’s eyes widened.

  “Cooper,” said Soojin, “can you run outside and grab my bags out of the trunk of my car? I want to transfer some of the items from my suitcase into the carry-on bag so we can get through the airports faster on our trip.”

  “Sure,” said Cooper.

  Anything to stop you from being mad at me.

  “You can use the guest room to sort your items,” said Sydney.

  “Thank you,” said Soojin.

  Cooper didn’t bother to grab his coat on the way out the door. Bracing himself against the cold, he ran out and popped Soojin’s trunk, grabbed the two bags, and hurried back inside.

  “The guest room is the last door down the hallway on the right-hand side,” said Mark from the living room.

  “Perfect, thanks,” said Cooper.

  Soojin was standing in the middle of the guest room when Cooper got there. She held his jacket in one arm, his pack of American Spirit cigarettes in the other.

  Holy Hannah.

  “What are these?”

  Cooper felt his face get hot. “I can explain.”

  “No, you can’t. You smelled like a chimney the second you walked into the Hanson living room, and you’ve been smoking behind my back ever since we returned from Europe.”

  Cooper knew not to test the limits of her patience. “Soojin, I’m sorry—”

  She stopped him with a cold stare before he could go on. “No, this is not okay with me. You are quitting smoking right now, or we are spending Christmas apart.”

  Cooper’s shoulders drooped.

  “Cooper Smith. You are better than this.” She threw down his jacket and tossed the cigarettes into the trash can. “Do you want to die of lung cancer?”

  “Of course not. Things have been a little tense lately, and I’ve been using them to calm my nerves.”

  “Well, it stops tonight. Get the gum or the patch or whatever you need, but no husband of mine is going to smoke. That goes for cigars, too.”

  Cooper put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples, dreading the nicotine withdrawals he would have to face. It would be just like the last time he quit smoking cold turkey three years before. He had just left a job working for a local television station in his hometown of Duluth. He had hated that job, where all he’d done was cover high school sports at his alma mater. Then he found a job as a reporter for a popular news radio program in Duluth, and used it as an opportunity to start fresh. The tedium and unhappiness of his previous position had him smoking more than ever before, so he decided the new position would be the perfect opportunity to adopt a healthier lifestyle. Plus, giving up smoking might improve his radio voice. The focus at his new job paid off, since that experience helped him land his role as a reporter for MPR.

  His hands slid down his face before he put his palms together in a praying gesture under his chin, looking up at Soojin. She had her hands on her hips.

  Why was I willing to give up smoking when I started a new career three years ago only to start smoking again so soon after getting married? Soojin is worth so much more to me than careers and cigarettes.

  Cooper hung his head. “Cold turkey it is.”

  “Good.” Soojin gave Cooper one quick nod of her head as if the matter was put to bed forever. “Now, let’s go find Gabby.”

  Chapter 21

  Houma, Louisiana

  After a late-night flight from Williston to Houston, and an early morning connection to New Orleans, Cooper and Soojin picked up a rental vehicle and drove the rest of the way to Houma. There were literally two vehicles left at the Hertz car rental kiosk at the airport that morning, so they opted to go with the Nissan Quest minivan over the Mustang convertible, which cost twice as much. They rolled into Houma in a silver soccer mom van just after 10 am two days before Christmas.

  We just need some screaming toddlers and a barking puppy to get the full minivan experience, thought Cooper.

  Their plan was to visit the docks and marinas near Houma that accommodated houseboats to see if they could find Brock Doyle’s. With each new stop, Cooper and Soojin gleaned more information from the locals who would highlight additional marinas that may dock houseboats.

  Cooper felt another nicotine-withdrawal headache coming on. He was eating licorice nonstop, and munching on Juicy Fruit chewing gum—three pieces at a time—between bags. He was also starting to get irritable.

  “Maybe this is all a big waste of time,” he barked at Soojin as he drove.

  She glanced up from her phone, where she was following Google Maps to the next marina. “Hold it together; it’s been what, one day since you gave up smoking?”

  Cooper smacked down on his gum. “I’m being serious. What if she isn’t even here? We could just be wasting our time.”

  “Just keep chewing your gum and drive,” Soojin said.

  Cooper fumed. Easy for you to say; you’ve never tried to quit smoking.

  “Turn left at the next stop sign,” said Soojin. “Then, it’s the first road on the right. Should be called Leroy’s Landing.”

  When Cooper turned down the designated road, he saw a worn-down sign that read, Leroy’s Landing: Fairly Reliable Fish Guide and Dock Services.

  This should be interesting.

  After growing up in northern Minnesota, Cooper felt incredibly culture-shocked in Texas and Louisiana. He took notice of the slow Southern drawl, the sweet tea and barbeque, the hot and sunny weather, the jazz and blues music, the cowboy boots and deserts in Texas, and the shrimp boots and swamps in Louisiana. In Minnesota it was Scandinavian phrases like uffda mayda, coffee and Tater Tot hotdish, cold and dark weather, Bob Dylan and Prince, Red Wing boots and lakes.

  Cooper slapped his neck after a mosquito bit into him. He pulled his hand away and saw it was covered in blood. Well, I guess the north and the south have that in common, he thought.

  Cooper wiped his hand on his pant leg as he pulled the minivan up to what looked like the marina’s office. Beyond a cluster of small buildings, he could see a series of docks with several boats tied to them, including what looked like houseboats. The skies were clear, and it was a comfortable sixty-five degrees. But the air was heavy and the water was high following a recent rainstorm. The local radio news had been talking about the storm for the past hour. And although people back home in Minnesota could talk about the weather all day long, Cooper finally had enough and turned the radio off.

  He exited the minivan and walked around to the office door. Soojin was already knocking and waiting for a response. Cooper peered into the windows.

  “Hello?” she said. “Is anyone here?”

  Cooper saw a door at the back of the office open, and a short, black man with a cane hobbled to the front of the building. He unlocked the door, swinging it open. He wore a tattered baseball hat with a fishing lure sticking out of it and a shirt that read, Leroy’s Landing: EST 1971.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “We hope so,” said Soojin. “Are you the owner of this marina?”

  “Sure am; I’m Leroy. Been running this place for forty-three years now.” Leroy pointed to his shirt. “What can I do you for?”

  He had a thick Southern drawl, and a couple of his lower teeth were missing.

  “Great, we’ve come to the right man,” said Soojin. “We are just wondering if there is a houseboat docked at your marina that is owned by a man named Brock Doyle.”

  Leroy raised his eyebrows. “You guys know Doyle?”
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  Cooper’s bad mood immediately lifted as excitement coursed through him. “Wait, do you know Doyle?”

  “Well, sure. What do you want with him?”

  Soojin jumped in. “We are trying to find him because we have a few questions we hope he can answer for us. It’s very important.”

  Leroy shrugged. “Come on in and have a seat.”

  Cooper and Soojin exchanged relieved glances as they walked into Leroy’s office.

  “I’ve got some Abita’s beer in the fridge.” Leroy motioned to an old fridge in the corner. “Or, if you prefer a soft drink I think I also have a few Abita’s vanilla cream sodas.”

  The office was small, with two windows and an overhead fan that was spinning directly above them. Pictures of Leroy with happy clients who had caught big fish, presumably on one of his guiding tours, lined the walls. An old metal desk sat in the center of the room, with two visitor chairs facing it. Leroy limped behind his desk and sat down, but Cooper and Soojin remained standing.

  “Thanks for the drink offer, but I’m okay,” said Cooper.

  “Me too,” said Soojin. “We’re sorry to burst in here unexpectedly, but we really would like to speak with Doyle. Do you know where we can find him?”

  Leroy laughed. “Good luck with that.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Cooper.

  “Well, I’m assuming he is still up in the Dakotas doing his oil gig, so you’ve got a ways to go.” Leroy paused and scratched his head. “Then again, about two weeks ago I did my daily checks on the boats in the marina. Doyle’s boat was gone. I’m not surprised; he always comes in unannounced at all hours of the night, takes out his houseboat and heads out to the bayou to go off the grid for a while. Sometimes he is gone for a month at a time. Of course, it could have been a friend or someone else that took it. Who knows with that guy …” Leroy shrugged.

  “That’s a long time to be out on the bayou, isn’t it?” asked Soojin.

  Even though they had yet to see anyone else in the whole marina, Leroy glanced out the window before he leaned in closer to Cooper and Soojin. He held his right hand up alongside his mouth and whispered, “The only time he ever makes quick trips is when he is paying a hustler to go out there to fornicate with him.”