No Quick Fix (Torus Intercession 1)

There was silence as I heard more key tapping.

“Where is this computer, Fort Knox?”

“No, it’s his home computer.”

“He’s got some serious security here for a home computer.”

“That’s what I figured. I didn’t think for a second I’d be able to get in fast.”

“You wouldn’t be able to do it at all,” he snorted. “My ten-year-old niece is more techy than you, brother.”

I had no doubt.

“Oh, yeah, here we go. This is brilliant. He’s got video of you sitting at his computer.”

So the man was not so trusting, after all. “Can you delete that, please?” I said drolly.

“Already did.”

“I’m looking for a geological survey that had to have been done in the last few weeks.”

“Why?”

“Because the survey guy was murdered and then fed to mountain lions.”

Silence.

“Huck?”

“Fed to what?”

“You heard me. I couldn’t make that shit up.”

“Holy shit. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, but you get why I’m looking into it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he said with a sharp exhale. “Okay, so there’s something here about a possible carbonatite deposit, which would be interesting.”

“And why’s that?”

“Well, because if the geologist suspects some rare earth elements, like say Cerium or Promethium or Yttrium, or something even better, then that could be serious money.”

“How?”

“Well, all those are used to make processors and chips for computers, and they’re basically the building blocks for high-end tech.”

“You’re dumbing this down for me,” I accused him, because he did that to me often. And usually it was for the best. He was a hardware guy all the way. I was not.

“No, it just doesn’t matter, because according to the report I’m looking at, something is there, yes, but there’s no way to know what without getting it out.”

Which is where the mining comes in, am I right?”

“Yeah. Mining, drilling, I have no idea the specifics, but it’s invasive to the environment, without a doubt.”

“Like you’d have to cut down a fuckton of trees to make this happen.”

“Absolutely.”

“Mr. Cahill told Emery that it was a silver deposit.”

“Is Emery your client?”

“Yeah.”

“So he lied, then.”

“Yes, he did.” I sighed because already Emery thought I was second-guessing Grant Cahill. This was not going to go over well, me digging around in the man’s emails, no matter what he was hiding. “Which complicates things for me.”

“I wonder why Cahill would say it was silver instead of carbonatite?”

“I’m not following.”

“I just mean, why say anything at all?”

“Well, he has to say something. The geologist was there for a reason.”

“But if he hadn’t died—”

“He was killed,” I corrected him.

“Yeah, but either way, someone would have seen him, right?”

“Possibly.”

“I’m gonna say, in a small town, that it’s probably likely.”

“Fine,” I conceded. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that it’s weird that Mr. Cahill wouldn’t just tell Emery the truth. Why does it matter what’s there, silver or carbonatite or whatever. I’m guessing it wouldn’t matter either way to Emery. Mining is mining, and I imagine that’s what he doesn’t want.”

“Maybe the process for mining one is less invasive than the other, and he’s thinking he could sell Emery on going after silver if that’s easier.”

“I doubt it.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know.”

“True,” he agreed. And then he added, “It’s terrible that this man is going behind your client’s back like this.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Maybe he’ll come clean.”

“He had the opportunity tonight and didn’t.”

“That’s too bad, but either way, carbonatite is mentioned in the report as a maybe but not a for sure. He talks about meeting with this guy—this Peter Bannon—to discuss in more detail so that’s probably what he did.”

It wasn’t concrete and certainly not enough to get Emery to turn on Mr. Cahill. And was that for the best anyway? Just because Andrea Dodd didn’t want mining didn’t mean it was a deal breaker. And why was I thinking that the best thing for Emery was not Lydia? Who was I to say? I didn’t know either of them well enough.

“Makes you wonder how this Peter Bannon ended up dead.”

“And why?” Huck added.

“The why is the sticky part.”

“I would think so.”

“Which is why the police were out here tonight questioning him.”

“You might need to tell them what you know,” he apprised me.

“But Emery already knows Cahill met with Bannon, and that’s all I know too.”

“But you can provide a motive for Cahill to kill Bannon.”

“Maybe. It’s kinda thin if we don’t know what exactly is in the ground, or if it’s actually worth anything.”

“That’s true too.”

“Can you just monitor his email for me, and if anything more is said about the land, you’ll let me know?”

“’Course.”

“Thanks, Riley,” I said playfully, using his last name. “I appreciate it.”

He grunted.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Something,” I countered, concerned now. “What?”

“You’re fine, right?”

“What’re you—”

“I mean, you’re not doing something stupid, snooping around all by yourself.”

“No. I have you for backup.”

“I’m not close enough to be your backup unless you need me out there.”

I thought a second. “Why don’t you?”