Chapter Seven
The files Lauren emailed Olivia last night regarding the history of the resort’s development along with updated information on the New Dawn Revolution provided much-needed clarity, but they didn’t come close to answering all their questions.
“It looks like the town council of Rising Rock used eminent domain to seize the land used for the resort,” Olivia said from the passenger’s seat of Eli’s truck as he drove northwest to their destination.
“On what grounds?”
She scrolled through the file she had opened on her laptop. “Infrastructure and private economic development designed to increase taxes and jobs.”
“You told me NDR was upset about weasels.”
“Black-footed ferrets. They’re an endangered species. One of their last breeding grounds was on the land. Chip Whitney and the other investors were aware of that fact and simply didn’t care, according to the file.”
“That may be, but I’m sure someone caused a stink about those ferrets before the eminent domain was approved. Didn’t the EPA have to investigate?”
“The US Fish and Wildlife Service is responsible for implementing the Endangered Species Act and protecting the animals listed.” She scanned the pages until she found the part she was looking for.
“They collaborated with the Montana department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks and FWP handled the investigation due to state expertise.”
“Anything in your little file to indicate whether that was unusual?”
“No. But the odd thing is, according to the FWP report, there were no ferrets on the land, and the breeding ground was supposedly located miles away.”
“Do you believe it?”
“NDR was so certain the breeding ground was destroyed they were willing to kill. I believe the report was falsified. But I need to prove it.”
“Doesn’t proving it only help NDR?” Stopping at a traffic light, he glanced at her. “I thought they were the enemy we were hunting, not helping?”
“I might be able to use proof as bait. NDR would love to use concrete evidence to drag the investors through the mud. Various environmental organizations would line up to file lawsuits. Criminal penalties.”
He turned left down a residential street.
They’d been in the car for ninety minutes, but according to the GPS they were close.
“All of that sounds like trouble,” Eli said. “A lot of powerful people would be willing to go to great lengths to ensure that evidence doesn’t see the light of day. It’s dangerous. I don’t like it.”
“Some of those powerful people are clients of Aegis, like Chip Whitney. I’ve signed a nondisclosure agreement.
I couldn’t legally leak evidence that would harm the clients.
” No matter how much she wanted to, and she did want to see those greedy titans of industry held accountable.
Right along with the members of New Dawn Revolution.
“But to bait them, to do it effectively, I need to know for certain whether the report was falsified and who paid to have it done.”
“What’s the name of the FWP officer who wrote the report?”
“Reggie Purdom.”
“I can have someone at Ironside look into it,” he said, “if you really need the information.”
Better to have it and not need it. “I do.”
“We’re here.” Eli pulled into a driveway of a one-story house and parked behind a nondescript, American-made sedan.
A typical Bu-car.
Sure enough, the driver’s door opened, and an agent, who looked to be a decade older than them, stepped out wearing his FBI windbreaker. He was average height, on the lean side, with salt-and-pepper hair and a trim mustache. Squinting against the sun, he eyed them.
“We better not keep him waiting,” she said.
“Hey, are you Lane or Adani with this guy?”
“I never use my real name out in the field.” None of the field operatives at ASIG did. Their work was risky. Exposing their true identity could make them targets or vulnerable to being compromised.
“Isn’t it illegal to give a false name to a law enforcement officer?”
It depended on the specific circumstances of the interaction, the state where it took place, and the nature of the alias itself. At Aegis, they were acrobatic artists when it came to walking legal high-wires. “Generally, only when being lawfully detained or arrested. Not the case here.”
She was well trained in staying within legal boundaries while still protecting any operation. In dire straits, Lauren had the means and connections to get one of her operatives out of a sticky situation.
They climbed out of the truck. She smoothed down her blazer, glad she’d packed jeans, slacks, and her tactical boots, to be ready for any eventuality.
“Special Agent Ricky Trujillo.” He offered his hand, and they shook.
“Olivia Lane with Aegis.”
“Eli Easton. Ironside Protection Services.”
“Let’s be clear from the get-go,” Trujillo said.
“This is my case and I’m allowing you to sit in on this interview as a courtesy.
A courtesy that I don’t think I should have to extend, but your boss and my boss had a little chitchat, and in the spirit of cooperation among intelligence professionals, here we are.
Don’t step on my toes in there, or this experiment in cooperation will quickly sour. Got it?”
Even though Olivia wanted to roll her eyes, she smiled instead and decided to handle this exactly the way she’d been taught. “You’re in charge. Got it.”
Eli slid her a questioning glance.
Trujillo looked Eli over from his boots to his Stetson. “Am I going to have any trouble out of you, cowboy?”
“From me?” Eli chuckled. “I won’t be the problem.”
“Good.” Trujillo turned around and marched up the walkway of the house.
They followed behind him.
Eli leaned close to her. “You’re going to be the problem, though, aren’t you?” he whispered.
She elbowed him in his side. There was a distinct possibility. “Depends on his definition of cooperation.”
“What was that?” Trujillo stopped at the front door.
“I was reminding the cowboy to cooperate,” she said, and Eli frowned at her.
Trujillo knocked on the door. He gave it a few seconds and banged louder the second time.
Rustling came from the other side. “Who is it?” a groggy male voice asked.
“FBI.” Trujillo held his badge up to the peephole. “Open up.”
The security chain slid to the side and the door opened. Yawning, a man stood in a T-shirt, boxers, and a loosely tied bathrobe. “What’s this about?”
Trujillo kept his badge raised. “George Maben?”
“Yes.”
Most of Olivia’s lingering questions centered on NDR. The Aegis analysts couldn’t dig up any new information about the group. Maben was a natural place to start.
Trujillo introduced them. “We have some questions for you. May we come inside?”
“Got a warrant?” Maben asked.
“You have two choices,” Trujillo said. “The easy way. You let us in. We have a conversation and see how it goes. Or the hard way. I get a warrant in an hour, handcuff you in front of your neighbors, haul you to the station, hold you until I’m ready to ask questions, which might be sometime after dinner, or late breakfast tomorrow.
Then we have the same conversation and see how it goes. ”
Groaning, Maben stepped aside. After he let them in, he shut the door and plodded into the kitchen. “Mind if I have a beer?”
“It’s only nine in the morning,” Trujillo said. “A little early for a drink, don’t you think?”
Scratching his thinning white hair, Maben opened the fridge and pulled out a can of beer.
“Listen, man, I got off a twelve-hour shift at six and just got to sleep when you started banging on my door.” He sipped his drink.
“Your morning is my night. Let’s get this over with.
It’s not my first rodeo. I know how it works. ”
“You were at work from six p.m. yesterday evening until six this morning?” Trujillo asked, and Maben nodded. “Where’s that?”
“Town Pump. I’m store clerk. I was the only one on shift, but there are cameras and surveillance to prove I was there.”
Trujillo wrote it down in a notepad he’d pulled from his pocket. “Walk me through the hours before you went to work.”
“Got off my last shift at the same time. Six. Home by six thirty. Watched the news. Went to bed around nine. Slept alone. I was up by four. Yesterday was um, Wednesday, so I went swimming at the senior center on Main Street. I checked in at the front desk. Cameras cover the entrance and the exits. Afterward, I ate at the diner across the street and walked to work.”
“Nice alibi,” Trujillo said.
Olivia agreed. It was neat. Well prepared. Easy to verify. Either Maben wanted to be ready for this interview, or it was simply as he already admitted—this wasn’t his first rodeo. He knew it was probably a matter of time before someone came around asking questions.
“Alibi for what?” Maben asked.
“Last night, the New Dawn Revolution conducted an orchestrated attack at the Rising Rock Resort over in the Rising Rock Valley. Know anything about that?”
“No, sir.”
“You don’t know anything about the fires your organization set at the hotel?” Trujillo gave the older man a skeptical look. “I find that hard to believe.”
Maben shrugged. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Any idea why they did it?” Trujillo asked.
“Nope.”
“For the leader of NDR, it’s odd you know so little,” Trujillo said. “Maybe we need to go to the station. You’re still on probation, aren’t you? It wouldn’t take much to send you back to prison.”
“I’m not going back.” Maben set his beer down. “I no longer have any ties with NDR. Can’t. It would violate my probation. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
All of that was in Maben’s file Olivia read. None of it meant he didn’t stay in contact with the group.
“Guess it’s the hard way,” Trujillo said. “Call your boss and let him know you won’t make it in to work for the next couple of days.”
Olivia was done keeping quiet. She didn’t have days to waste playing Trujillo’s game. “Did you know about the black-footed ferrets?” she asked point-blank, and Trujillo gave her a narrowed-eye glance that could strip paint off a wall.
Maben stiffened. His gaze lowered.