by Eric Hodges
CHAPTER 14
ENEMY CAMP
Wheeler pulled the VW to the curb in front of Davies and Wix. Whether it was the legal office or accounting office he didn’t know. He waited in the bus to make sure he was mentally centered and would be able to play the right role because he never knew what demands would be made of him. At times like this, he released himself into his inner power to make sure he did not get in his own way. The hints that he gets are not enough to allow him the full ability to maneuver or manage a situation to perfection, and right now, he needed perfection. He exhaled and went in.
He followed the lights to the only office that was occupied and found a handsome, older man wearing a tweed jacket, open collar and no tie sitting behind the desk. He had short cropped gray hair in a soft version of a flattop and too much redness in his cheeks. Wheeler thought it might have been too much alcohol or a thin skin condition and would not give him the benefit of the doubt.
Wix stood up “I’m Jim Wix” he said, reaching out his hand to shake. “You must be Mr. Wheeler.”
Wheeler grasped his hand. It was limp and cold, which is never a good sign. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Please, sit down” Wix said, indicating a visitor chair opposite to his own that placed the desk between them. “I asked you here to talk about the oil that you’ve found in our little community.”
“Excuse me, but I have not actually found oil” Wheeler said with a true laboratory technician precision.
“Well yes, but that is only a technicality.” Wheeler shrugged and Wix continued “I have a little problem that I need your help with.”
Wheeler was reminded of some kind of a snake that didn’t rattle its warning or spread its neck, it just waited patiently and struck with no warning.
“I’ll help if I can Mr. Wix” Wheeler responded as pleasantly as he could.
“Please, call me Jim. What I need you to do, Mr. Wheeler, is to hold back the samples you have collected until the first of the month, and then make sure the results are not available for another month more.”
“Mr. Wix, I mean Jim, sorry, why would I want to do that? I thought the results would be wanted as soon as possible.”
“Here’s the problem, we have a real estate issue that must unfold in its proper time and I am concerned that the confirmation of oil on the property will compromise many months of preparation” Wix said, confident Wheeler would jump to solve his problem.
“I don’t see how I could help in that problem” Wheeler stalled, not knowing where he was going with his response. “It seems to me the information that is already out there will compromise your deal. As you say, the lab results are just a technicality.”
“Mr. Wheeler, trust me,” Wix said barely hiding fangs, “the results are more than a technicality to some people. This is important.”
“I am just a field technician, I’m not sure what I can really do” Wheeler stalled some more. “Mr. Boone is expecting answers soon.” He sensed there was more to this conversation.
Wix reached to a lower drawer in his desk and Wheeler took the same opportunity that Walt presented to grab a printed sheet off the desk and put it in his jacket pocket. That was too easy. Wix leaned back upright bringing two bundles with him and he put them on the desk.
“Mr. Wheeler, here is a little encouragement to help you grease any wheels you need to in order to stall the test results.” Wix challenged Wheeler to deny the request.
Wheeler feigned shock and stammered “Is that what I think it is? I don’t know if that is appropriate.” Wheeler was responding as a high morality lab tech would.
“Look at this from my point of view. This,” he indicated the bundles “is just the cost of doing business. In my line of work, Mr. Wheeler, money is always required to make more money, and that is all we are doing here, making money.” He displayed a humorless smile that he probably practiced in front of a mirror in his early days.
“This is a bit unusual. You are asking me to delay the test results for Mr. Carter’s farm and I have not been here long enough to know about relationships, but it does seem you are involved in his property.” Wheeler paused, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “Mr. Carter seemed awfully anxious, are you sure this is okay?” Wheeler had stalled about long enough and Jim Wix was using up his persuasions.
“Walt Carter does not need to know about our little arrangement” Wix said showing himself to be more of a predator than a salesman. “By the time you do have the test results, Walt will not be in the picture.” Wheeler felt a cold shiver, sensing the true import of what Wix was really saying. This was not the time for Wheeler to make any waves in the pond of Wix’s scheme, it was time to grab and run.
“Well. Mr. Wix, er Jim,” Wheeler hesitated, “I have never done this before but I think there is a way for me to add a bit of delay without anybody getting concerned. I will just take this and be on my way.”
“Excellent, Mr. Wheeler” Wix said, holding out his hand to seal the deal.
Wheeler lifted the bundles and left the office. He wanted to run out of the office to get away from Wix, but he settled for a deliberate walk down the dark corridor out to the VW. He took a deep breath when he cleared the door, and started the process of getting the Wix slime off. He had to think and use a sounding board, well, boards to get this all to make sense. Bob and Alice could give him some more background that he felt he needed because there was a tickle in the back of his mind that was not ready to come out.
He drove slowly out of town, tumbling the pieces he knew around and around, giving them every chance to fall into place. Walt Carter had given him one brick, a lot of money. Wix had just given him two bricks, even more money. Certainly the prospect of oil on the property had tantalized all the players but what was Wix real role? He was on the title to the Carter property and could legally step in if the balloon payment was not made and handily take over, but Walt would not just back away from the family farm. Wheeler caught himself driving aimlessly around, the disjointed facts fogging his brain just as aimlessly.
There was the vision wherein the casino had the black, flowing river coming in from the bottom that was the bad money, Walt wearing a tattered Indian headdress holding up a corner of the building and the other black flow going over to Davies and Wix. Then there was the expected visit by Walt carter to recruit him to test for oil next door to Alice and Bob and the unexpected intrusion of Jim Wix to delay the oil test results. There was enough money flowing to keep Wheeler going for years if was careful to only choose the good bills. And then there was little Stevie who had not been seen since the mud-fest across the front lawn of the Keefer farm. Wheeler did not usually stumble into such complication, in fact, he never had. He drove vaguely toward the farm turning the seemingly random facts over to his inner intelligence, figuring that if it could provide him with direction then turnabout was fair play.
