The Height of Secrecy. J. M. Mitchell. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: J. M. Mitchell
Издательство: Ingram
Серия: Prairie Plum Press
Жанр произведения: Ужасы и Мистика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780985227265
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visitors ahead on the trail, looking at something on the river. He paused, not wanting to intrude on their solitude, and for a moment regretted choosing this way into headquarters. People deserve their moments, but they do not typically mind a minute with a ranger. He made no assumptions. Quietly, he approached a man and woman, binoculars to their eyes, looking elatedly at something stirring in a backwater margin of emergent marsh. Jack started to glance over, but they had neither heard nor seen him. He slipped quietly past.

      At headquarters he stopped at his office, dropped off his canvas briefcase, and headed down the hall to dispatch. He pulled his cup off the shelf and poured himself some coffee.

      “Morning, Molly.”

      “Someone must’ve been talking last night at Elena’s. Our local conspiracy theorist heard about that plant getting torched. He’s letting everyone know.”

      “You’re kidding.”

      “No. And check the newspaper. There’s some new player getting involved with the Coalition. Says you need to be kicked out of the process.”

      “That’s odd.” Jack took a sip of his coffee and picked up the paper. “What’s their name?”

      “Can’t remember.”

      Reading, he slipped out and went to his office.

      “. . . Coalition will meet later in the week, but a new player says he plans to force a change, or bring an end to the effort . . .”

      He plopped into his chair and held the Gazette closer.

      “Knock, knock.” Marge, the superintendent’s secretary stood at the door. “Joe wants to see you, in his office” She headed back up the hall.

      Jack dropped the paper and followed after her.

      He fell behind, but slipped around the corner, through her office, into Joe’s, stopping at the door.

      “Have a seat,” Joe said. He spun around from the computer and stared across the desk. “I’ve only got a couple of minutes before my nine o’clock shows up. This Foss character we sent home. Was there more you didn’t tell me?”

      “It was a discipline and performance problem. On the verge of becoming a sexual harassment case.”

      “And this same fellow helped on the rescue?”

      “Yes, he did. I didn’t mention that, did I?”

      “No. He’s being characterized as one of the heroes of that action. And yet we fired him and sent him home?”

      “Hero? I wouldn’t exactly say he was. . .” Jack shook his head in disbelief. “Awkward, isn’t it?”

      “Yes.”

      “You sent him home?”

      “Johnny did. No, I guess I did.”

      “Which is it?”

      “I did. He was giving Johnny trouble. I asserted myself to protect him.”

      Joe sighed. “I may end up doing the same for you. I’ve been called to Washington to meet the Director. This and other business. Not sure why this would rise to the importance of a trip to D.C., but apparently it does.”

      “No!”

      “Yes.”

      Jack felt his heart pound. “Can’t believe it. Foss’ brother is pulling strings with the Director.” He wrung his hands.

      Joe set his glasses on his forehead and rubbed his eyes. “Document what happened. Email me something by day’s end. I leave this afternoon.”

      “I will.” Jack shook his head. “Email’s been jammed with rumors about the Director pulling research funding from Sand Dunes. Looks political. Now this! We’re gonna get hammered.”

      “Calm down. You’ve got enough to worry about. Read this morning’s paper. You’ve got a guy showing up at your meeting to-morrow, plans to give you some trouble.”

      “That’s what Molly said. I’ll read it. I’m sorry you’re getting pulled into this.”

      “Comes with the job.”

      “Knock, knock.” Marge stood in the door. “Your nine o’clock.”

      Jack stood to leave.

      Marge slipped away from the door and another woman stepped in. Tall, slender, and blonde. Impeccably dressed, navy blue suit, a profile that looked strangely familiar. She extended a hand. “Hi Joe, I’m Erika.”

      Joe shook her hand. “This is Jack Chastain, one of my staff. Chief of Resource Management.”

      She slowly turned. “Nice title, Jack.”

      “Jack, this is Erika Jones, regional office.”

      She looked different. Hair shorter. “I know who she is.”

      Joe glanced between them. “You do? How do you know each other?”

      “Past lives.”

      Erika cocked her head. “Yes, we were on a team that . . .”

      He cut her off. “Montana.”

      “I see,” Joe said. He gestured Jones toward a seat.

      “What a coincidence,” Jack said. “We were just talking about your boyfriend’s little brother. Did you know he has a brother?”

      “I don’t know who you’re talking about. I don’t have a boyfriend. No clue what you mean by a boyfriend’s brother.”

      “I need to get back to my office.” Jack moved to the door.

      “Jack, I need you to stay. There’s obvious tension between you two, but I ask that you be adults. Erika, when you set up this appointment, I expected to be here all day. That’s no longer the case. I’m leaving for the airport. Jack will have to be the one to answer your questions.”

      “I’m fine with that.” She flashed a look his way. “We can work together. We have before. Many days of good work. There seems to be a little misunderstanding, but we can work that out.”

      Joe turned to Jack. “Can you give her some time today? Maybe the next few days.”

      “I have the meeting to prepare for, and things I need to do in the field, but I can give her whatever time I have left.”

      “Find the time,” Joe said. “Jack, take a seat and I’ll give you both a few minutes.”

      He settled back into a chair.

      Jones transformed into cool confidence, her chiseled but attractive features focused on the superintendent. A dark suit like hers rarely made an appearance in Piedras Coloradas, and when it did, the skirt was typically longer. Jack glanced again at the blond hair, clipped almost short. Such a different look than the Erika Jones he remembered. What was confidence before now seemed catlike.

      Morgan pointed at Jack. “Before we turn to Erika’s business, I meant to ask about the fire.”

      “She’s fine, a good fire. Johnny’s plan is good, and he’s got good people monitoring spread north and west.”

      “She?” Erika asked. She smiled.

      “It—I mean it.”

      “Must be a dainty little thing.”

      “No, she’s not. I mean, it’s not. Has the potential to get large and complicated.”

      She dangled a shoe. “Complicated. What’s her name, Jack?”

      “Why?”

      “Just wondering. Do you name your fires after women you know? Complicated ones. Hot, wild ones. Tame and controllable ones.”

      Joe threw his head back and laughed. “Careful.”