CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
"Not just EVs. Grid-scale battery storage, portable electronics, renewable energy infrastructure.
The technology was emerging, the patents were being filed, the research was happening.
" Paul spread out articles from tech journals dated fifteen to twenty years ago.
"Some investors saw the trend before the general market did.
They understood that lithium demand would eventually explode, even if they couldn't predict exactly when or how much. "
James leaned forward, studying the articles. "So Devco discovered this deposit back when lithium was relatively cheap, but they saw the writing on the wall. They knew it would become valuable."
"They made a bet," Paul said. "A very expensive, very patient bet.
They started acquiring land, building the corporate structures to hide their involvement, positioning themselves to control the deposit.
And anyone who threatened to expose their land acquisition scheme - even before the lithium market exploded - they eliminated.
Because they were protecting not just what the deposit was worth then, but what it would be worth in the future. "
"And they were right." James pulled up current lithium prices on his laptop. "Look at this. Prices have increased by a factor of ten or more in just the past few years. What would have been worth maybe a few hundred million twenty years ago is now worth tens of billions."
"Which is why they're moving now," Paul said.
"Ben saw active mining equipment. They've waited twenty years for the market to mature, for prices to reach a point where the investment pays off massively.
And now that they're finally ready to extract, they're more dangerous than ever.
Because they're not protecting a potential fortune anymore—they're protecting an actual fortune. "
James froze. "Kari. She's still investigating. Still asking questions about her mother's death, about the Naalnish case."
Paul hurried to allay his former partner's concerns. "If they wanted to remove her, they would have tried so by now," he said. "They only targeted Ben because he had the opportunity to see things they didn't want him to see. Kari hasn't seen anything."
James grunted. "Not for lack of trying. She's a danger to them—you know it and I know it."
"Yes," Paul acknowledged grudgingly, "but use your head.
It's all about risk management. Is she a risk to them?
Absolutely. But would eliminating her be a risk to their operation, too?
What if they make a mistake, leave evidence?
Even if they didn't, they'd have to realize that every dead body just brings more attention. "
"They've been dropping bodies for years, and they've still managed to stay in the dark. The cockroaches."
"They weren't killing detectives," Paul said patiently. "And there wasn't a team of people ready to make the connection."
They both fell silent. Paul had given his best pitch, had tried to allay his friend's worries, but ultimately it was outside his control. He just hoped James wouldn't do something rash in the name of protecting his daughter.
"Regardless," James said, sweeping aside Paul's carefully constructed argument, "we have to do something. We can't just sit here and wait for Kari and Ben to sort it all out."
"We need to be smart," Paul answered, growing impatient. "If we push too hard, too fast, they'll know we're onto them. They've got people inside law enforcement—that's the only explanation for how quickly the Naalnish investigation was shut down. Anything we do has to stay below their radar."
"So what do you suggest?"
Paul considered the question. James was brilliant at analysis, at seeing patterns, at building cases from scattered evidence.
But he'd been out of the field for years, disconnected from the practical realities of investigation.
He needed guidance, direction—a framework for turning his insights into actionable intelligence.
"We keep working through Anna's files," Paul said.
"You focus on the corporate structures, the shell companies, the financial connections.
I'll cross-reference with federal databases, see if I can identify the real investors behind Devco Holdings.
We build a timeline, document every suspicious death, every land acquisition, every piece of evidence that connects them. "
"And then?"
"And then we figure out who to trust with what we've found.
Someone with enough authority to act on it, enough integrity to resist pressure to bury it.
" Paul met James's eyes. "That's going to be the hardest part.
Whatever this conspiracy is, it's got reach.
It's got protection at levels we haven't identified yet.
Going to the wrong person could get us killed. "
James absorbed this, his jaw tightening. "It's not my own life I'm worried about—or yours."
"I'm touched."
"We should call Kari. This is what she asked for—a thread."
"Not yet." Paul held up a hand to forestall James's objection.
"I know she said she wanted to hear from us the moment we found something.
But what we have right now is a theory, not evidence.
We call her with half a picture, she drops everything to chase it, and whoever's behind Devco sees her coming. "
James stared at him silently, thinking. He clearly didn't like this plan.
"I know you want to help her," Paul added, "want to make up for everything you feel you should have done before."
"That's got nothing to do with—"
"But we don't need any family drama interfering with this investigation, no more than it already has. We'll talk to her when we have something worth sharing. A real lead."
"So what do I do? Just wait?"
"You do the work. You prove that you're committed to this, that you're not going to bail when it gets hard or complicated or dangerous. And when the time is right, when we have something substantial, then we swap notes."
James shook his head, disgusted, and went to the window. "Funny. I didn't know you were moonlighting as a babysitter."
"You need to understand something. Kari's not looking for a father, not right now. She's looking for a colleague, a resource, someone who can help her finish what her mother started. If you can't accept that, if you're hoping this will magically repair your relationship—"
"I'm not hoping for anything." James's voice was quiet but firm. "I lost the right to hope for that a long time ago. I just want to help her find the truth about Anna. I want to do what I should have done years ago."
Paul studied his old friend—the gray hair, the lined face, the weight of regret that had become a permanent fixture in his eyes.
They'd worked together for over a decade at the Bureau, had built the kind of trust that came from surviving difficult cases and watching each other's backs.
James had always been the thinker, the analyst, the one who saw patterns where others saw chaos.
Paul had been the actor, the one who turned insights into action.
They'd made a good team, once. Maybe they could be a good team again.