“Progressing?”
“If they found anything suspicious in the wreckage.”
“You sound like you’re getting in pretty deep out there, Ty.”
“Tell Tom I haven’t forgotten about him. And thanks, Brooke. I’ll be in touch again.”
He hung up and looked back up the street, but the black SUV had moved on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Back inside, Hauck sat back down at the table. Dani stopped texting and put down her phone. “Who was that?”
“My office.”
“Okay.” She waited. “And …”
“And I don’t want you playing detective anymore, Dani. You said it yourself, when you heard what happened to me on the road. Things are heating up.”
“That’s not fair, Uncle Ty. I can take care of myself.”
“The truth is,” he said, looking at her with concern, “it would make me feel a lot more comfortable if you could head back home.”
“Home?”
“You said a few friends came up for the funeral. Any chance you can drive back with them?”
“And then what about you?”
“I’ll be along soon. In a couple of days. When I see what’s happening.”
“You can’t just shut me out of this, Uncle Ty. I’m the one who brought it to you.”
“Yeah, and look where it landed you. In jail.”
“You’re still gonna need me, if you’re intending to go back to Trey’s father. And besides, my friends already went back. They left a couple of hours ago.”
“Oh.” Hauck gritted his teeth, disappointed. “Then I want you to stay at the motel and hang out on your iPhone tomorrow. I’ve got some business to attend to.”
“What kind of business?”
“I’d rather not share it, Dani.”
“Why are you suddenly shutting me out, Uncle Ty? What’s changed?”
“What’s changed is that there’s some dirty business going on here, Dani, and it’s not just the oil. RMM is using military-trained PsyOps teams—those are people who are trained to twist behavior, interrogate bad guys, intimidate the local populations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Of which the Alpha Group is a key player.”
“Iraq and Afghanistan?” She screwed up her brow. “What would they be doing here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You think Trey was killed now, don’t you, Uncle Ty?”
Hauck edged toward her. “You mind keeping your voice down just a bit?”
“But you do …!” She dropped it a level, but the wide-eyed look on her face reflected her shock as what he just said sank in.
He nodded. “I’m starting to think that’s a possibility. Yes.”
“And you think it was this guy Robertson who did it? Right?”
He nodded again. “He was part of a black ops unit of Alpha back in Iraq …”
She sat back, and blinked. “I was right. Oh my God. I almost didn’t really want to hear this. So what are we going to do?”
“What are we going to do …? You’re going to watch TV or listen to your iPhone and chomp down room service.”
“They don’t have room service where we’re staying, Uncle Ty.”
“Then we’ll switch to somewhere that does. Either way, you’re staying put, Danielle. That’s our deal.”
“You’re starting to sound like Wade now …” She sat back, narrowing her eyes, letting it all sink in. Then she looked back at him. “You’re going to RMM.”
He didn’t answer.
“You are, though. You’re going to just walk in there? Like, Here I am? With what you now know?”
“The truth is, we really don’t know anything. Other than these people are here and something murky is going on. Besides, RMM’s a huge energy conglomerate. They won’t want to make a scene. Anyway, that’s kind of what I do.”
“What do you have, a death wish or something?” She stared at him.
“It’s sort of like navigating rapids,” he said with a widening grin, “but on land.”
“That’s really funny, Uncle Ty,” she said, sitting back. She clenched her fingers into a fist and tapped it against the table several times as if in disbelief. “I can’t believe Trey was actually murdered. I know I said it from the start, but now that things are coming out, I can’t believe it’s real. So we’re staying?” She turned to him.
“Yeah, we’re staying.” Hauck nodded. He took her fist in his hand and squeezed. “One more day.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Resurgent Mining and Mineral was in a modern, redbrick office building on the outskirts of Greeley, close to the government buildings and the courthouse.
It was a huge oil and gas exploration company, based in Denver. Hauck looked it up the night before. It did upwards of six billion in sales in the past year and was listed on the New York Stock Exchange. It operated everything from coal to mines to hundreds of oil and gas wells spread over the central mountain states. It also was a partner in various pipeline projects in Canada.
Hauck parked in the lot and went in through sliding-glass doors. The lobby was a two-story atrium with oversize photographs of the company’s interests. He went up to the woman at the curved reception desk and asked to speak to Guy Stafford, who was listed on the RMM website as the general manager of the Wattenberg region.
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Stafford is in Denver today. Did you have an appointment?’
“No.” Hauck slid across his card. “I’m a partner in a global security firm back east. I was out here on other business and was hoping to speak with someone about what we do.”