Blue Gold (NUMA Files 2)

Later that morning he pulled off the Hollywood Freeway into a typical California maze of close-built residential blocks interspersed with commercial plazas. Zavala wasn’t sure what he expected, but after the explosion in Baja and the bizarre deaths of Hanley and Pedralez, he was surprised to find a well-marked office in a professional building sandwiched between a Staples office supply store and a Pizza Hut.

The lobby was open and airy. The cheery receptionist who greeted him was the same one who had given him directions on the phone. He didn’t have to exert his Latin charm. She readily answered questions about the company, showered Zavala with brochures, and said to call if he ever needed hydraulic engineering services. He went back out to his rental car and sat behind the wheel staring at the unassuming façade, wondering what to do next. His cell phone buzzed. Austin was calling from his office at NUMA headquarters.

“Any luck at your end?” Kurt said.

“I’m sitting outside the Mulholland Group as we speak,” Zavala said. He filled him in on his findings. Austin in turn told Joe about his visit to the Garber center, his conversation with Buzz Martin, and the revelations from Max.

“You’ve accomplished a hell of a lot more than I have,” Zavala said.

“All blind alleys so far. I’m heading to upstate New York this afternoon to see if I can clear up the mystery of the flying wing pilot. While you’re in L.A. maybe you can poke around on Gogstad.”

They agreed to compare notes back in Washington the next day. Zavala hung up and called information for the Los Angeles Times. He got through to the newsroom, where he gave his name and asked for Randy Cohen in the business section.

Moments later a boyish voice came on the phone.

“Joe Zavala, what a nice surprise! How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. How’s the best investigative reporter west of the Mississippi?”

“Doing what I can with the limited brain cells left from our tequila sunrise days. Are you still keeping NUMA afloat?”

“As a matter of fact I’m in town on NUMA business and wondered if you could give me a hand.”

“Always ready to do what I can for an old college pal.”

“I appreciate that, Randy. I need some information on a California-based company. Have you ever heard of the Gogstad Corporation?”

The other end of the line went silent. Then Cohen said, “You did say Gogstad?”

“That’s right.” Joe spelled the name so there would be no mistake. “Does it ring a bell?”

“Call me back at this number,” Cohen said, and abruptly clicked off. Zavala did as he was told. Cohen answered. “Sorry to cut you off. We’re talking on my cell phone. Where are you?”

Zavala described his location. Cohen was familiar with the neighborhood and gave him directions to a nearby coffee bar. Zavala was sipping on his second espresso when Cohen walked in. The reporter saw Zavala sitting at the counter and gave him a big grin. He strode over and pumped his hand.

“God, you look great, Joe. Haven’t changed a bit.”

“Neither have you.” Zavala was telling the truth. The reporter looked much the same as when they had worked together on their college newspaper. Cohen had put a few pounds on his lean frame, and his black beard was tinged with flecks of gray, but he still walked like a giant crane, and the blue eyes blinking from behind horn-rimmed glasses were as intense as ever.

Cohen ordered a double latte and herded Joe to a table removed from the others. He took a sip, pronounced the coffee a ten, then leaned forward and said in a low voice, “So tell me, old friend, what’s NUMA’s interest in Gogstad?”

“You probably heard about the pod of gray whales that was found dead off San Diego.” Cohen nodded. “We’ve tracked the possible cause of death to an operation on the Baja peninsula. There was a link to the Mulholland Group. Gogstad is the parent company.”

Cohen’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of operation?”

“Don’t laugh. It’s a tortilla plant.”

“I don’t laugh at anything having to do with this outfit.”

“Then you know it.”

“Intimately. That’s why I was stunned when you called. I’ve been on an investigative team digging into Gogstad for almost a year. We’re going to call the story series ‘The Water Pirates.’ ”

“I thought piracy went out with Captain Kidd.”

“This is bigger than Kidd could ever have imagined.”

“What turned you on to the story?”