by B R Snow
“How is everyone doing?” I said to Jill, who waved and smiled at us.
“They’re great,” Jill said. “The puppies just had breakfast and then dozed off. As soon as Gabby wakes up, I’m going to try to get some food in her. She’s still pretty worn out.”
“The little guy on the left definitely looks like he’s got a lot of Rottweiler in him,” Rooster said, peering into the condo.
“They’re adorable,” Chef Claire said. “How long will it be before we can play with them?”
“Long after we’re in Cayman,” I said as Josie approached the condo. “Unless it’s absolutely necessary, we don’t recommend that newborn puppies be picked up or played with until their eyes are open and they’re walking around.”
“It’s usually around three weeks,” Josie said, then glanced at Jill who was still sitting with her back against the wall near the nesting area. “Is everything good?”
“We’re in great shape,” Jill said, getting to her feet. “I’ve got a few things to take care of, but I’ll swing back in about half an hour.”
“No, that’s fine, Jill,” Josie said. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“I’ll give you a hand,” Jill said. “I love watching these little guys.”
“She’s as bad as the two of you,” Rooster said, laughing.
“That’s why we hired her,” Josie said, giving Jill a quick hug as she exited the condo and headed to registration.
“Who’s up for a little cross-country skiing?” I said.
Rooster and the Chief looked at each other.
“Let me guess, you want to go deliver the news to Jessie Friendly that the puppies have been born?” the Chief said.
“Sure, let’s go with that,” Rooster said, laughing.
“Well, she does need to know they’re here,” I said. “What do you say?”
“I’m in,” Rooster said. “The last thing we need is you going out there unsupervised.”
“I’m gonna pass,” the Chief said. “Until we get a few facts put together, my going out there without a good reason would look pretty suspicious. I think I’ll stick around here and see if I can have a little chat with Herman Billows.”
“About what?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him.
“None of your business,” the Chief said, laughing.
“Harsh,” I said. “Are you going to ask him what he was doing the day that Friendly got shot?”
“Maybe,” the Chief said. “If it comes up. At the moment, I’m more concerned about why he’s so interested in getting lease rights for something that is currently banned in the State.”
“Yeah, that still doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Rooster said. “But I guess his company is taking the long view that the ban will eventually be reversed.”
“That’s a long time to sit on something,” the Chief said.
“Not for a monster of a company that size,” Rooster said. “Those lease payments would be a drop in the bucket.”
My neurons flared, and I flinched. Josie, startled, jumped back and dropped her bag of bite-sized. Individually wrapped morsels of chocolate and caramel delight scattered across the floor.
“Don’t do that,” Josie said, glaring at me as she bent down to pick them up. “What on earth is it now?”
“I was just wondering if Herman Billows might be blowing smoke up everybody’s skirt,” I said, motioning for them to follow me to my office.
I entered through the open door and found all four of our dogs sprawled out on the couch. They woke up when we came in, but didn’t bother to move.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” I said, shaking my head at the sight of them then sat down behind my desk and fired up my laptop.
Josie wiggled onto the couch, and Chloe and Captain grudgingly made room. Chef Claire whistled softly, and Al and Dente hopped off the couch. They jumped back up as soon as she’d sat down then occupied her lap. She sat quietly stroking their heads. Rooster and the Chief sat down on the other side of the desk. I waited impatiently for my laptop to fire up and drummed my fingers on the desktop.
“Please, stop,” Josie said, nodding at my fingers.
“Sorry,” I said, folding my hands together.
“She is loud, isn’t she?” Chef Claire said, grinning at Josie.
“Between that and the flinching, I swear,” Josie said.
“Shut it,” I said, wiggling my fingers as the browser finally loaded.
“Can I ask what you’re doing?” the Chief said.
“Sure, sure,” I said, staring at the screen as I tried to come up with an appropriate search term. “Hey, Rooster?”
“Yeah.”
“Did Billows ever actually send you a proposed contract for rights to your property?”
“I believe he emailed me something, but I didn’t even bother to read it,” he said, shrugging.
“Do you still have it?” I said.
“I’m sure I do,” he said, reaching for his phone. “I never delete anything.”
“Great. Can you email it to me?”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to try to read a bunch of legalese in a four-point font on your phone,” I said, frowning at him.
“Okay, hold your horses,” Rooster said, then glanced at the couch. “Not only is she loud, but she can also be very annoying.”
Josie and Chef Claire merely shrugged as Rooster emailed me the document. Seconds later, it appeared, and I opened the attachment.
“What are you looking for?” the Chief said.
“Wiggly legalese,” I said.
“Must be a technical term,” the Chief said, glancing at Rooster.
I searched the document for natural gas references and found three. But they appeared to be in sections of the document that pertained to general references about the operations of 3E and not directly related to the specific terms of the agreement.
“That’s odd,” I said, frowning.
“What is it?” Rooster said, getting up to look over my shoulder.
“The references to natural gas are pretty obscure,” I said. “Let’s try searching for lease rights.”
“That’s weird,” Rooster said, staring at the screen. “There are lots of references to both those terms, but they don’t show up together.”
“No, they don’t,” I said. “Let’s try drilling rights.” I hit the enter key and waited. I stared at the screen. “Bingo.” I highlighted the section and sat back in my chair. “Read that sentence.”
“For the land outlined in Attachment 1, I hereby authorize 3E, and their authorized representatives, exclusive drilling rights, including all necessary means and methods of extraction and production readiness activities, for a period of forty years.”
Rooster stared at the screen then shook his head.
“Isn’t that what you’d expect it to say?” he said. “What am I missing?”
“The reference to exclusive drilling rights doesn’t specifically mention natural gas,” I said. “I’m no lawyer, but I read exclusive to mean they can drill for anything they want.”
“Like what?” the Chief said.
“I have no idea,” I said, then read from my screen. “But wouldn’t all necessary means and methods of extraction and production readiness activities include mining?”
“I’m sure it would,” Rooster said. “And there’s certainly a lot of mining in this state.”
“Yeah, there’s no ban on that,” the Chief said. “But what do we have around here? It’s mostly sand and gravel, right? And some limestone.”
“I think that’s about it,” Rooster said. “You occasionally hear about folks coming across some garnet and other gemstones, but nothing in any quantity.”
I tapped another search term into the browser and waited for the results. I scrolled down the first page of results, then opened one. I read for several seconds, stared at the wall as my neurons surged, then continued reading. I sat back in my chair, concentrating hard.
“I thi
nk she’s about to blow,” Josie said to Chef Claire.
“Yeah, wait for it,” she said.
“Wollastonite,” I whispered.
“Wouldn’t have got that with a million guesses,” Josie said, shaking her head.
“What is that?” Chef Claire said, laughing. “The name of a band?”
“Funny,” I said. “Have you guys ever heard of that before?”
Both Chief Abrams and Rooster shook their heads. I glanced at Josie and Chef Claire.
“Really?” Josie said. “You’re asking me?”
“What is it?” Chef Claire said.
“Apparently, it’s a mineral that forms in impure limestone.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Rooster said. “What’s it used for?”
“It looks like it has lots of industrial uses,” I said, reading from the screen. “Plastics, ceramics, metallurgy. Friction products? What the heck are they?”
“Brakes, stuff like that,” Rooster said.
“That’s a list that sounds like something the military and folks in the space industry might be interested in,” the Chief said.
“Yeah, it does,” I said. “Don’t rockets use a lot of ceramic tiles?”
“I believe they do,” the Chief said. “It’s all very interesting, Suzy, but why is this worth talking about?”
“Because New York produces one hundred percent of the Wollastonite in the country from four mines in the Adirondacks.”
“Okay,” the Chief said, nodding. “It’s probably worth talking about.”
“You think Billows might know there’s a bunch of that stuff buried on our property?” Rooster said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Could a geological survey identify something like that?”
“Given the fact that the government can read my license plate from outer space, I’m gonna go with yes,” Josie said, popping a bite-sized.
“But if that’s the case, why haven’t we ever heard about it before?” Rooster said.
“Maybe nobody has ever really looked for it around here,” I said. “Since all the known reserves are in the Adirondacks.”
“Maybe they’re running out of it,” Josie said. “You know, they might have dug up most of what’s there.”
“Does 3E have a sister company that’s involved in defense contracting?” the Chief said.
“You’re on fire today, Chief,” I said, laughing as I typed. “That’s a great idea.”
“I have my moments,” he said, shrugging.
“Bingo,” I said, scanning the landing page of the company’s website. “They certainly do.”
“So, they sent Billows up here ostensibly to get natural gas rights but failed to mention that they also want to mine that stuff?” Rooster said.
“I think it’s possible,” I said. “And Billows probably assumed nobody knew what they were sitting on.”
“And thought he was dealing with a bunch of country bumpkins,” Josie said.
“Oh, I hate when that happens,” I said, laughing. “And I bet his company was throwing smoke at other companies by only talking about natural gas rights. If this Wollastonite is valuable, they might not have wanted to let their competitors know what they’re up to.”
“It sounds like an awful lot of subterfuge to go through,” Chef Claire said. “Couldn’t they just get that stuff from another supplier? There must be other countries that have it.”
“I’m sure they could,” the Chief said. “Unless it would be a lot cheaper to dig their own supply from here.”
“Or they don’t want anybody knowing about some of the things they’re using it for,” Rooster said.
“Weird,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head. “I’m so glad I spend all my time around dogs and food.” She glanced around the office. “So, are we going skiing or not?”
“We are,” Rooster said, getting to his feet.
“I’m out,” Josie said, getting up off the couch. “I have some puppies to keep an eye on.”
“If we’re right about this, would that change your mind about signing with Billows?” I deadpanned. “It could be worth a fortune.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Rooster said, scowling at me. “I don’t give exclusive rights to anything or anybody.”
“Just checking,” I said, beaming at him.
Chapter 22
With me in the middle of a relatively straight line, we trekked through the fresh snow. It was cold, but the sun was shining bright, and we were all wearing sunglasses. An anomaly, perhaps, to those unfamiliar with the overpowering glare that sunlight and pure white snow produce, but you can take my word for it that the sunglasses were more of a necessity than a fashion statement. But Chef Claire in her one-piece ski outfit and reflector glasses looked fantastic, and I suppressed a chuckle when I caught Rooster’s furtive glance at her.
“You old dog,” I whispered to him.
“What?” he said, not breaking stride.
“Enjoying the view?” I said, laughing.
“Hey, I’m old, not dead.”
I was still sore from my last journey aboard the two narrow strips of fiberglass that looked a lot better hanging on the garage wall than they did attached to my feet. But since I was on a mission of discovery, my mind was focused on things other than my aching back and legs, and I was determined to not only do my best to keep up with Rooster and Chef Claire but also keep my complaints to a minimum. Sadly, the paths our skis had carved the other day were long gone, now buried by close to a foot of fresh snow that continued to fall.
“So, how do you want to play this?” Rooster said.
“I thought we’d start by telling Jessie about the puppies and see what sort of reaction we get,” I said between gulps of fresh air. “And we’ll just play it by ear from there.”
“Okay,” Rooster said, then glanced over at me and noticed my discomfort. “You need a break?”
“No, if I stop, I’ll never start again,” I said, looking over to my right at Chef Claire. “How are you doing?”
“Great,” she said, beaming at me. “It’s beautiful out here. So peaceful and relaxing.”
“Relaxing?” I whispered as I shook my head. I turned toward Rooster. “She’s a freak of nature.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Rooster said, watching Chef Claire effortlessly work her way through the snow.
“What?” Chef Claire said, glancing over at us.
“Nothing,” I said, commanding my lungs to take in more air.
A few minutes later, we reached the edge of the fence that surrounded the Friendly’s cabin, and I came to a stop and looked around. If I’d been watching what stretched out in front of me on TV, I’d probably be oohing and aahing at the idyllic scene. But since I was standing in the middle of it in the wind and cold and a half-inch of fresh snow already covering my head and shoulders, my verbal expressions were somewhat more tempered.
“Language,” Rooster said, frowning at my latest outburst.
“Sorry,” I said, doing my best to fend off a leg cramp. I removed both skis, leaned them against the fence then glanced back and forth at my two fellow skiers. I removed the squirrel hat from my pocket and pulled it on over the toque I was wearing. I cocked my head and struck a pose for them.
“What do you feed that thing?” Chef Claire said, laughing.
“Smart aleck chefs,” I said, adjusting the collection of dead squirrels that actually fit much better when I was wearing the knitted hat underneath.
“You guys ready?”
“I am,” Chef Claire said with an expression that was a mixture of wonder and disbelief.
“What is it?”
“I’m just having a hard time believing anybody could actually live out here,” Chef Claire said. “No running water or electricity, right?”
“Nope,” Rooster said. “C’mon let’s get inside. I could go for a glass of Jessie’s shine.”
“She makes her own moonshine?” Chef Claire said, following Rooster through the
gate he was holding open. “This just keeps getting better. I should probably warn you guys that if I hear banjo music, I’m gonna freak out.”
Rooster and I laughed as we headed across the front yard. The front door opened, and Jessie Friendly stepped out onto the porch and waved. We walked up the steps and brushed and stamped the snow off before following the widow into the cabin. Very and Cooter hopped to their feet when they saw us and smiled.
“Hey, look who’s here,” Very said. “What brings you out on a day like this?”
“We’ve got some news about Gabby and the puppies,” I said. “I don’t think you’ve met Chef Claire before.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Very said.
“Same here,” Chef Claire said, smiling. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to say hello when you were in the restaurant the other night.”
Very frowned and lowered her head. Then she caught the look her mother was giving her.
“What is she talking about, Very?”
Very, caught red-handed, shrugged.
“I snuck out the other night,” Very said. “I had a date.”
“With the Billows fellow, right?” Jessie said.
“Yes, Mama.”
Jessie continued to stare at her daughter, then nodded.
“Well, I guess you might as well get started adjusting to normal life,” she said. “I just wish you would have told me. Now that your father’s gone, you don’t have to go sneaking around anymore.”
“Thanks, Mama,” Very said, giving her mother a small smile.
“Hi, Suzy. The hat looks great on you.”
“Hey, Cooter,” I said. “It fits a lot better when I wear the toque underneath.”
“I could make you a smaller one,” Cooter said. “I’ve got a new batch of skins drying in the barn.”
“No, that’s okay,” I said. “This one is just fine.”
