Poison Town (25 page)

At the very core of his being, Travis felt like a traitor about to sell his soul at the expense of others.

They said good-bye, and Travis put the phone down.

“Everything okay at the shop?” Daddy said.

Travis nodded. “Yep.” He crossed his arms. “Ralston Coon stopped in. Our meeting with Demler-Vargus got moved up. Tomorrow at two.”

He took a deep breath and turned his gaze to Claire. Her mouth was reduced to a slit, and her green eyes burned into him.

“Well,” Daddy said, “I suppose that’s good news. At least we’ll finally get a little payback from old Goliath. That’ll be something, anyway.”

Travis nodded and managed a smile.

But Claire didn’t say a word.

She didn’t have to.

Every fiber of her being shouted
danger.

Chapter 27

Tension filled the small space between Jack and Derrick at a lamplit table for two at Ella’s, the hip coffee shop on the square in Trenton City. Derrick had phoned Jack an hour earlier, insisting they meet, which gave Jack a second wind. Now they sat with their heavy coats draped over the backs of their chairs, sweater sleeves rolled up, sipping coffees, comparing notes, and staring at each other in disbelief.

“First things first.” Jack looked at his watch. “I’m gonna do this interview with Bendicksons, and I’m gonna confront them about everything we have.”

Derrick craned toward Jack, his eyes huge. “But what are we gonna do with all this info? Cecil’s dirty; Jenness and Amy confirmed it. He’s not printing anything about Demler-Vargus.”

“I know. Now it’s him we’ve got to get dirt on. It’ll come, it’ll come; we just need to keep moving forward a step at a time. The key is getting evidence on all this stuff; once we’ve got that, we can take it anywhere.”

Derrick took in a deep breath.

“In my mind,” Jack said, “the biggest thing is we’ve got to get Amy on the record. And the only way that’s gonna happen is in person. There’s no way she’s gonna talk on the phone anymore. She’s scared stiff.”

Derrick looked at his watch. “I’ve got the rest of the day off. I could be there in an hour.”

Jack nodded excitedly. “I was thinking that, but never thought you’d go for it.”

“I told you, I’m in.”

Jack wished Derrick’s body language lined up with his words; he looked apprehensive.

“We need everything she says on record. You got a recorder?”

Derrick nodded.

“We need her to say it was Cecil’s idea to cover up all the leads on Demler-Vargus … Better write all this down.”

Derrick was already in motion.

“We need her to say the whole pregnancy story was Cecil’s idea. Who paid Amy to keep quiet, and how much? Did the payments come from Cecil? From someone at Demler-Vargus? Who? And who paid off the Doyles? How much?”

“Slow down.” Derrick scribbled furiously.

“It looks to me like Demler-Vargus started this cover-up by trying to pay people to keep quiet: Cecil, Amy, the Doyles—”

“I wonder if anyone else at the paper is on the take. Nigel?”

“Good question. Ask Amy.”

Derrick continued writing.

“At first they weren’t hurting people,” Jack said.

“But then it started to get away from them.”

“Exactly. I don’t know if they tried to pay Spivey or not; if they did, I’m assuming he didn’t take it. But I think he’s the one who forced them to take it to the next level, because of all he knows.”

“By next level, you mean …”

“Murder. The Doyles. Maybe Spivey? That’s why I’ve been so afraid for Galen and the boys.”

“Yeah,” Derrick said. “And now they got us in their sights.”

“Not to mention Amy. Whoever knows about Demler-Vargus and isn’t on their side is getting silenced.”

Derrick shook his head and blew out a breath.

“What?” Jack said.

“I’ve never been in on anything even close to this big.”

“I know, me neither.”

“I wanna know if Amy knows anything about Merv Geddy and his son,” Derrick said. “Did she know Oliver was filing a lawsuit? Did she cover up that lead … his plane crash?”

“Write it down.” Jack nodded.

Derrick did.

“We also need her, on the record, talking about the production of Streamflex. That might be the biggest thing. Why hasn’t OSHA or the EPA caught it? Could they be in on the cover-up?”

Derrick was writing so fast and in such sloppy handwriting that Jack wondered if he could possibly decipher it later. Jack bent down to tighten his ankle holster. The tile floor had puddled where the snow had melted off their shoes.

“I got an email from Patrick, that Live5 reporter in Charleston,” Jack said.

“And …”

“Police found a fire safe hidden in the Doyles’ house. There are some DVDs in there, and one is labeled Demler-Vargus.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Uh-uh. Police have it, but Patrick is trying to get his hands on it, and some other stuff. He’ll let me know if and when they do.”

“Has his station officially called it arson yet?”

“Tonight at eleven.”

“Wonder what Cecil will think of to not cover that story …”

There was so much swirling around in Jack’s mind, he felt blotchy. He started throwing his things into his leather shoulder bag. “Look, I gotta make my way over to Demler-Vargus.” He took an enormous breath. His heart raced.

“This is big, dog,” Derrick said.

“Tell me about it.” Jack stood, put his satchel in the chair, and got his coat on. Derrick rose and did the same.

“You got Amy’s address, right?” Jack said.

“Yeah. Why don’t you call me when you’re done there. I’ll still be on the road, probably.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jack hoisted the satchel over his shoulder. “Maybe we should meet up later tonight when you get back, if it’s not too late. Compare notes. By then I’m thinking we’re going to have one heck of a story.”

Derrick blew into a fist. “Sounds good. If I get going now, spend an hour or two with her, I should be back by ten or eleven.”

Derrick looked tense—perhaps even scared. Jack was feeling the same way. They were at a turning point. The remaining hours of the day would be critical. Jack looked around at the crowded room. “Sit down for a sec. Let’s pray.”

Derrick hesitated, but when Jack sat on the edge of his chair, Derrick did the same.

Jack put his head down, not waiting for Derrick’s response. “Father, Derrick and I need You now,” he said quietly. “Please keep us and our girls safe. Give us wisdom, discretion, understanding. Put your angels around us. Help us get the information we need, and help us know what to do with it. Amen.”

They stood.

It was the first time Derrick had smiled since they’d met up, and Jack wasn’t sure why. Was he making fun of Jack’s prayer, or did he approve?

Jack led the way out of Ella’s.

They stood beneath the large brown awning, immediately able to see their breaths. Cars streaked by in a blurry haze of rain and snow.

It was time.

They shook hands, patted shoulders.

“Good luck,” Jack said.

“Good luck, dog.”

They jogged into the rain in separate directions, unsure what the rest of the day, and night, would bring.

Chapter 28

Pamela hadn’t felt so excited in weeks, perhaps months. She tried on dresses and shoes and even new coats at Marshalls, and her mom insisted on picking up the tab for a rust-colored sweater dress for her date with Jack. They looked at perfume and makeup at the Ulta store in Trenton City, then bundled up and dashed several doors down to the neighborhood Starbucks.

“You needed a few hours out on the town.” Margaret sipped her caramel macchiato.

“Did I ever,” Pamela said. “Thanks, Mom. I mean it—this has been fun.”

“It’s done me wonders too.”

The place was hopping. Nearby were two women talking intimately over a small table, several people tapping away at laptops, and others reading and listening to music. It was the ideal place to cuddle up on a blustery afternoon.

“How are you feeling?” Margaret smiled and eyed Pamela’s tummy. “Any symptoms?”

“I feel fantastic.” Pamela took the lid off her Zen tea to let it cool. “The first three months with Faye were awful, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Your dad felt so bad for you.”

“Were you sick with me?”

Margaret’s head tilted as she thought. “Not much. Maybe a little queasy over certain foods and smells.”

“I’m so excited about tonight. I can’t even remember the last time we went on a date.”

“Don’t you have a good babysitter in the neighborhood?”

“You remember Tommy and Darlene next door? They watch the girls every once in a while. They used to do it more.”

Every time Pamela thought of Tommy Sweeney she was reminded of the day Granger broke into their house almost two years ago. She’d whisked the girls to the Sweeneys’ house and barged right in, seeking safety.

Margaret was talking, but Pamela was no longer listening.

She found herself searching the Starbucks for Granger … for the man who’d run them off the road the day before …

Her heart kicked up a notch.

Calm. Be calm.

She breathed in deeply, set her shoulders back, and exhaled without her mom noticing.

Every now and then, fear just ravaged her, shook her entire being.

It was usually just for a moment, like that.

And she was better.

She’d come a long way, but she had a long way to go.

But tonight, nothing was going to interfere with her date with Jack. They were going. And they were going to have fun, just like old times.

“Pam … did you hear me?” Margaret leaned toward her, snapping her fingers. “My goodness, you’re in another world.”

“Sorry.” Pam chuckled. “I was daydreaming.”

“I said, what time do we need to leave to be home for the girls? Isn’t it about time—”

Startled, Pamela looked at her watch. “Oh! We’ve got to go! My gosh.” She was on her feet, ready to run out with coat in hand.

“Honey, okay, calm down. Get your coat on.” Margaret stood.

“What was I thinking? They’ll be home in fifteen minutes.” She threw her coat on and grabbed their bags. “Hurry, Mom.”

“I’m coming.” Margaret got her coat on. “Now, we’re not going to fall on the ice or something. Just take it easy.”

Look who was telling whom to take it easy.

* * *

“Finally!” Daddy got right on Dr. Beezenhour when he entered his hospital room. “Good golly, I thought you’d gone ice fishin’.” It sounded funny, but his father’s jaw was locked and his face was a deep shade of scarlet.

Travis had just about fallen asleep in the vinyl chair in the corner, and it looked like Claire had been helping Daddy with the crossword.

“I apologize for the delay, Mr. Randall.” The doctor pulled up a chair, licked his fingers, and flipped through the pages on his handy clipboard. “We’ve had an influx of patients today. Forgive me.”

“Yeah, yeah, so give me the good news and send me home,” Daddy said.

Beezenhour was thoughtful before he spoke. “Mr. Randall, I want to keep you awhile longer—”

“Dadgummit.” Daddy tugged the sheets up around his shoulders. “I knew this would happen. A person can’t come in here without gettin’ nickeled and dimed to death. What’s wrong now? I feel good.”

“I’m sorry you’re agitated, sir.” Beezenhour blinked relentlessly. “What’s happened is, we did find some traces of the synthetic chemical Fenarene in your system.”

Travis’s heart sank.

Claire frowned and crossed her arms.

“Now, it’s not an enormous amount by any stretch, but I want to know how well your body is getting rid of it, and to do that we need to do more tests.”

“Now wait a minute, Doc.” Travis stood. “Is this necessary, or are you just wantin’ to use Daddy as your guinea pig?”

“Travis!” Claire said.

“It’s okay.” Beezenhour held up a hand. “I told you of my interest in the chemicals used in manufacturing and how they affect the body, so it’s a fair question. What I want to find out is this: is your father’s body eliminating the Fenarene, or could that chemical be sticking around, possibly causing harm?”

“How long would Mr. Randall need to stay,” Claire said, “and what would you do?”

Travis was sure glad she was there; otherwise he’d have blown a gasket.

The doctor nodded, as if to say,
At least there’s someone in the room who has some sense
. “He could probably go home by this evening; latest, tomorrow morning. It depends how fast I can get a neurologist here.”

“Neurologist … a brain man?” Travis said.