by K C Gillis
“I see. But my position is the same. My marina is not for sale. I appreciate your client’s generous offer, but I intend to keep the marina in my family.”
Alex Koffman’s face froze in a mask of contempt, his gaze boring into Mike like a laser. So intense was his look that Mike momentarily felt afraid. He randomly wondered if he should consider keeping a gun in his office.
Alex regained his composure as he stood. “My client will be very disappointed to hear this. This is a life-changing opportunity for you. It’s a shame you can’t see that. I’m quite sure you’ll not see as generous an offer from anyone else.”
Mike still felt somewhat threatened but stood to meet Alex face-to-face. “I’m sure your client can find another great development opportunity. If I learn of anything, I’ll pass it along.”
Mike held out his hand, and Alex took it, but with such a hard grip Mike thought his hand would break.
“My client is skilled at getting what he wants. I’m sure that, given some time, and the right circumstances, we’ll find a solution that satisfies all sides.” With that, Alex Koffman left the marina, leaving Mike to wonder exactly what the hell his last comment meant.
Alice Banfield had seen the well-dressed guest arrive. He was a new face at the marina, and she watched him as he entered the grounds. She was a bit surprised that Mike was waiting to meet him and even more surprised when they headed inside to Mike’s office. Alice knew all the marina’s regular business contacts, and this man wasn’t one of them. And he clearly wasn’t here to interview for a job. The salaries of the few open positions at the marina wouldn’t even be able to cover the wardrobe costs for the visitor.
Alice had made sure Mike didn’t see her follow the men into the building. She had also made sure he didn’t know she went into the room beside his office. There was no way Mike would know that she was trying very hard to hear what was being said between him and his visitor. The problem was that the office walls didn’t allow sound to easily pass through. Alice could hear the men talking but couldn’t make out everything they said.
She closed her eyes and calmed her breathing, concentrating on trying to make out anything. She couldn’t hear complete sentences, but she could catch a few strings of words. In the muddle of what she could pick up was one clear message. The visitor had presented Mike with an offer to buy the marina.
Alex Koffman climbed into his Porsche 911 Turbo and started the engine. Then he made a phone call.
“Yes?” the man on the other end of the line said.
“It’s Alex. Mike Banfield declined the offer. At best, he showed only slight interest.”
There was a pause. “That’s disappointing. Do you think he’ll come around after he thinks about the offer for a day or two?”
“Honestly? No. He really wants nothing to do with selling. But he inquired about the future plans if he were to sell. But, as you said, those details aren’t to be shared with him before he consents to sell. And even then, he wouldn’t know the full scope until it was well underway.”
“It’s not the end of the world. I have a backup plan.”
“I’m sure you do. Remember, it’s in both our best interests if I don’t know the details of that plan.”
“Don’t worry. I know where to draw the line. Let me make a call. I’ll let you know how things proceed.”
“Talk to you soon.”
Nicky Carlucci’s phone showed his boss was calling. “Hey, boss.”
“Nicky. Remember that situation I said might come to pass?”
“I do. Is it time?”
“It is. I need you to get to Copper Lake today. Use the membership we had set up. Make sure our acquaintance is ready to follow through. There will be a boat rented in case you need it.”
“On my way.”
4
I really hate driving.
The drive to the town of Copper Lake took under two hours. Jordan arrived well before dinnertime. The drive should have been faster, but the rain during the first hour forced her to keep her old Subaru just below the speed limit. By the time she arrived, the sky had mostly cleared, setting up a beautiful evening.
Jordan immediately concluded that calling Copper Lake a town was a bit of an overstatement. There was a main street where, for about a half mile, one could find some of the basics. A gas station, a small restaurant, a 7-Eleven, and a few local retail shops. There was one traffic light, but it didn’t seem necessary. She had called the nearest hotel, about ten miles away, on the drive. They had three rooms available and agreed to hold one for her. Apparently, Mondays were busy for hotels out in the country.
Getting to East Bay Marina was her priority, so Jordan quickly drove through the town, continued another mile, and turned left on Copper Lake Road. According to Google Maps, the marina was one and a half miles down the road. As she approached the marina, it was Copper Lake itself that first came into view.
Jordan’s first hint at the presence of the lake was an occasional patch of water visible through the trees. But after following the curve of the road to the left, the trees mostly gave way to the lake’s shore, the lake expanding in almost every direction. To the west, Jordan estimated the far shore to be well over a mile away.
A peninsula blocked much of the northern view of the lake, but as Jordan crested a small hill and descended the far side, several large buildings that could only be East Bay Marina greeted her.
The size of the marina seemed appropriate for Copper Lake. As the lake, already wide at this location, stretched and snaked for what would be several miles to the north, the large marina appeared as its own community, occupying dozens of acres. Jordan entered a parking lot in front of a large building with floor-to-ceiling windows. Inside, she could see what had to be at least ten boats. Clearly a showroom, designed to entice people to either buy their first boat or upgrade to a new model.
To the right of the showroom parking lot was a gated entrance to a much larger parking lot. This lot provided access to the marina’s docks, as well as another large chalet-style building. In the distance, beyond the interior parking lot, Jordan could see many large trees, a playground, barbecue pits, and picnic tables arranged across the property. At the far end of the interior parking lot was a boat launch, though there were no boats going in or out as Jordan pulled in.
Jordan wasn’t sure exactly how she’d get to the interior of the marina to meet Kasey. She checked her phone and saw that she had two text messages. The first was from Travis. He had called Kasey’s brother and told him to tell Kasey that Jordan would come up today. The second was from Kasey. She said she was working at the marina bar and had arranged for Jordan to have visitor access. She just had to check in at the gatehouse.
It was always a bonus when someone thought ahead to prevent a problem from arising. Jordan got out of her car into the warm air. She could see the gatehouse and walked over, smiling at what was obviously a high school student manning the gate. He was trim and muscular and sported board shorts and an official East Bay Marina golf shirt.
“Hi there,” Jordan said, sounding much more upbeat than she actually felt.
“Hey,” the gate boy responded. “Can I help you?”
“I bet you can. I’m here to visit one of the staff. Kasey said she put me on a visitor list. Can you see if I’m on it?”
“Sure can. What’s your name?”
Jordan hesitated a moment, recalling Travis saying that she was a minor star. She hoped it hadn’t gotten to the point where people would actually recognize her name. “Jordan Reed.”
“OK, let’s see.” The gate boy repeated Jordan’s name a few times as he looked on the list. No sign of name recognition.
Jordan, sometimes you can be so stupid. Of course some high school kid won’t know your name.
“Here it is,” he said. “You’re good to go. I’ll open the gate for you.”
“Thanks. Is the marina bar easy to find?”
The gate boy smiled. “Sure. It’s on the close end of the
next building, facing the lake. You can’t miss it.”
Jordan got into her car, drove through the open gate, and parked in the large parking lot.
Getting out of her car and seeing the main grounds for the first time, one thing was for sure: the owner or manager made sure the grounds were in good condition. The landscaping was beautiful, with lush green grass, several beds of flowers and plants, and dozens of tall oak and maple trees. Hardly a leaf or blade of grass seemed out of place. Jordan followed a walkway that headed where she needed to go, and within a minute, she rounded the corner of the building and saw the marina bar. It looked to be a bar and restaurant, with both interior and patio seating. At the far end of the patio was a long rectangular bar that served from all four sides. It was an impressive layout.
There were two bartenders working, one male and the other female. Jordan approached the side of the bar closest to the female bartender and took a seat. When the bartender glanced her way, Jordan spoke first.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Kasey, would you? I’m Jordan and am supposed to meet her today.”
“That’s me,” the girl said with a big smile. Jordan thought she was barely old enough to be able to work at a bar. But maybe it was just her stunning good looks that made her look young. Long, straight blond hair framed a face that should have adorned magazine covers. From what Jordan could see, Kasey’s body was fashion-runway worthy, though her feminine curves might not fit the traditional model stereotype. Kasey wore loose-fitting board shorts and a red tank top with the marina logo on the left side.
“Great, nice to meet you,” Jordan said.
“Likewise. Would you like a drink?”
“I’d love one. How about a gin and tonic? No ice and a slice of lemon.”
“Coming right up.”
A moment later, Kasey brought the drink and a bowl of pretzels.
“Thanks, Kasey.”
“Actually, thank you. I couldn’t believe it when my brother told me that there was actually a reporter coming to investigate the dead fish. Things are pretty dull around here, so it will be cool to have some excitement.”
Jordan didn’t like the sound of that. It was always easier to do her job if no one knew she was actually doing her job. She hoped this bouncy post-teenager didn’t Instagram her arrival for all to see.
“Well, your brother knows a good friend of mine, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to come take a look.” Simple, harmless lies like that one flowed easily for Jordan. “I’m not sure how much you know about how reporters work, but usually the fewer people who know what I’m doing, the better. How many people do you think know I’m here?”
“Just two. Me and Derek. He’s the one who found the fish and is also a water-sports instructor here. My brother, Karl, obviously knows, but he lives in Marlborough, so we won’t see him around. He has other plans for the Fourth.”
Jordan recalled Travis mentioning that someone from the marina had found the fish. Now she had a name. “OK. How many people know about the fish?”
“Funny you should ask. In a small lake town like this, you’d think everyone would know in a day or two. But when Derek found the dead fish, he told his dad. His dad said he’d look into it and told Derek not to talk about it to anyone. The next day, the fish were gone. He couldn’t even see any evidence that they had even been there. That was two days ago.”
The hair on the back of Jordan’s neck stood up. She had been down the cover-up road before and knew what it looked like.
“You’re right, that sounds strange. But why would Derek tell his dad?”
“Right. How could you know? His dad’s the police chief.”
“For real? So Derek told his dad, the chief, and then the dead fish disappeared?”
“That’s what happened.”
“If Derek was supposed to keep quiet, why tell you?”
Kasey started to blush, the red rising in her cheeks standing out against her otherwise pale skin and light-blond hair. “We’re kind of together.”
“Kind of?”
“Well, we are together. But we keep it quiet. Derek doesn’t think his dad would be too happy.”
“Sorry. I don’t mean to pry, but why would that be? You seem nice enough to me.”
“That’s nice of you to say. It’s a bit of a long story. The short version is that Derek’s dad and my dad don’t exactly get along.”
“Got it. Does Derek know if his dad reported this to anyone else? Maybe the EPA, or MassDEP?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so. We can catch up with Derek later. He gets off work at five.”
“That would be perfect.”
Jordan sipped her drink while Kasey excused herself to see to another customer. When Kasey returned, Jordan had another question for her. “You mentioned the chief and your dad don’t really get along. Can you tell me anything about that? It’s OK if you can’t. Or don’t want to.”
“It’s practically common knowledge anyway, so you may as well know. They went to high school together, and when they were in their senior year, the chief’s girlfriend left him for my dad. The chief thinks my dad stole her from him, but she really just preferred my dad.”
“Wow. And the chief still holds a grudge?”
“Oh yeah. I guess he had given her some sort of promise ring or something. Thought they were going to get married. How many high school sweethearts actually get married?”
Jordan thought about her and Travis. They had come close. Real close. “Few, I guess. So whatever happened to this girl, anyway? I’m sure she never actually married your dad.”
“Actually, she did. She’s my mom, Alice Banfield.”
Jordan choked on her drink. “Whoa. Are you telling me your mom broke up with the chief in high school to date your dad, and they actually ended up getting married?”
“You got it.”
“Did you say your last name is Banfield?”
“Not directly, but, yes, Banfield is my last name.”
“Isn’t the family who owns the marina named Banfield?”
“Sure. It’s my dad’s. Didn’t you know that?”
“It’s starting to come together now.”
5
Chief Brian Foster stood at the gate and pressed the intercom button, eliciting a buzz that should have been heard at the other end. No response. He pressed it again, longer this time. No response. He pressed it a third time, holding the button for at least five seconds. Still no response. The chief paced along the front of the gate, peering in through the gaps in the fencing, trying to spot an actual person. No luck on that front either. The chief pushed the button again, holding it for ten seconds. Nothing. He looked up to where he knew there was a camera. “Open the damn gate, MacGregor. I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”
After about thirty seconds, the chief heard the click of the gate unlocking, followed by the rattling of the chains as the gate opened. The chief climbed into his police cruiser, a Ford Explorer and not the typical Crown Victoria or Taurus, and pulled into the compound. The vehicle skidded to a stop on the dirt, the ground still damp from the recent rain. The chief strode toward the door of what looked like a small office building. He didn’t know much about what went on inside and didn’t really want to, as long as they controlled their shit.
The door to the building opened before he reached it, and a tall, slim man came out. He was dressed like some kind of backwoods scientist, wearing tall rubber boots caked with dried mud, knee-length cargo shorts, pockets loaded with crap, and a dirty white lab coat. A pair of goggles pulled up on his forehead completed the look.
“Jesus, Chief, give me a heads-up before you come over. It’s not like we have someone sitting by the intercom waiting to buzz you in. It’s usually just me here.”
“I can come by any damn time I want. You know that. It’s one of the perks of being chief of police. We need to have a talk.”
The man, Drew MacGregor, walked over to the chief and stood in front of him. Towered over
him, really. The chief didn’t like to look up at people. It made him somehow feel less in control.
“What’s so important you felt compelled to come up here and interrupt my work?”
“We need to talk about your little dumping event.”
MacGregor’s face betrayed the slightest hint of surprise. So little that most people might have missed it. But not the chief.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t waste my time. We both know you dumped hundreds of dead fish in the lake. Up near Martin’s Point.”
MacGregor tried to deflect the accusation one more time. “Sorry, but I’ve never dumped any fish anywhere.”
“How about we drive out to where I moved them, grab a couple, and bring them back here to compare with whatever you’ve got in that big building over there? Maybe we get one of your bosses to join us. I’m pretty sure I could arrange that.”
MacGregor gave up. “Fine. Yes, I dumped the fish. But I had no choice. I had to do something with them. There were too many.”
“I assume you never had so many to deal with before?”
“Not even close. We were testing something—think of it as a treatment—and we thought we had the right formulation and dosing. So we scaled up the test. We have a big deadline coming up. Anyway, something went wrong. They all died. I guess I panicked. I figured if I dumped them in the lake, no one would care. Dead fish must show up now and then.”
“Now and then? Sure. But by the hundreds? Never. You’re fucking lucky it was my son who found them, otherwise you’d be in deep shit.”
MacGregor hung his head. “Sorry. I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“Next time you have a problem, don’t think. Call me. Got it?”
“Yes. Is that all?”
“Mostly. You mentioned something about a treatment. Is there anything specific I need to know about what you do up here? Just in case you have another incident?”
