Chapter 27

When Orville had said the DA would meet us Tuesday morning, I was expecting something like ten or eleven, not at eight while I was still at the station chatting with Al, who Orville had scheduled for the day shift so we could both go up to Dixon.

I was also surprised to see Orville in uniform, since he rarely wore it when he wasn’t working. Although, seeing Orville in uniform next to a man in his mid-forties wearing a nice suit made it easy to work out that our visitor was Fred Stokes, the district attorney.

“Henry Brewer, right? I’m Fred Stokes,” he said, coming up to the partition and extending his hand.

“Mr. Stokes,” I said, cautiously.

“Al, it’s good to see you,” he said, letting go of my hand.

Even though I still had my suspicions about him, I could see how he was so popular. The man exuded personality, making eye contact with each person he was talking to, but not in a confrontational way, making it seem like he was interested in whatever you were about to say, even if it was just good morning.

“Before we head up to Dixon, would you mind stepping into the back room for a few minutes so we can talk,” he said after finishing his good mornings.

“Sure,” I said, looking at Orville for some kind of barometer.

“I’ll be out here when you two are done,” Orville said, basically telling me I was on my own.

I led the way to the small back room that was the closest thing we had to a place to meet privately, holding open the door for Stokes.

“I wanted to take a moment and personally apologize for how things happened the other day,” he said as soon as the door was closed. “I know Orville explained the reasoning for it already, but I also know how that kind of thing can leave a bad taste, and I thought you should hear it from me. I instructed Danny, before he came out here, to grill you hard and make sure everything was on the up and up before I signed off on the shooting. We’ve had a few rough incidents over the last few years, and the last thing our office can afford to do is be seen signing off on a shooting only later to have a cell phone video crop up and show a different scene than the one we reported.”

“I understand,” I said.

I still thought there was a better way it could have been handled, but I understood their predicament.

“I also wanted to thank you for the investigation notes and incident report on the barbershop fire. You did first-rate work, and I’m pretty sure we’re going to have a plea deal in place with Jeremy before the end of the month. He’s not getting as much time as I would have wanted, but we’re getting full restitution without having to wait several years for the trial to wind its way through, maybe more with appeals, which will help your Mr. Cooper.”

That part I wasn’t surprised about. I’d never witnessed a DA, no matter how much they talked about being hard on crime, who’d choose a trial over getting any kind of plea deal in place. I didn’t even necessarily blame them, since juries could be really unpredictable, and I’d watched obviously guilty people walk, even with mountains of evidence against them.

“Good,” I said.

“Now, about this Dixon business. Orville has walked me through it, and honestly, I’m not terribly surprised. They’ve been really hurting the more natural gas has pushed its way into their market share, and some of their site managers have been skirting the line a lot more to make up for it, since their jobs are on the line. This has gotten them into some hot water recently, so we have some leverage, but we have to play this smart. I told Orville to bring you along partly because I felt I owed you something after the other day, but mostly because once we manage to come to some sort of agreement to get them to back off, it will be on you to uphold our end. Legally, there’s not much we can do until they actually step over the line, and I think we can both agree that’s what we’re trying to avoid in the first place. So, keep your ears open and try to say as little as possible, and I think we can get you and your friend out of this situation. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said.

We went back out to get Orville and the three of us went out to Orville’s car. I knew Dixon had their regional headquarters in Charleston, so I thought that was where we’d be headed. Despite what Stokes had said, I seriously doubted anyone working at the mine would be able to keep the company from continuing to pressure Rosita, and yet he turned in that direction, driving past the end of main street and heading up the winding road to the mine.

When I’d been a kid and come up to the mine with Dad a few times, mostly so he could pick up something he’d forgotten, all the operations had been run out of portable buildings. I remember Dad saying they had built a larger, longer-term facility when I was in college, but I hadn’t been up here since then, so I’d never seen it in person. It had been a big deal for Dad, because it meant the company believed this mine had long-term possibilities, since it was investing in permanent structures.

When he’d described a more permanent building, I’d assumed something made out of concrete and glass, maybe not ornate, but solid. The building we drove up to, however, was barely a step above the trailers they had been using. Sure, it was an actual building, but just barely. The walls were corrugated metal and there was a complete lack of any ornamentation. Aside from the concrete pad it sat on, there was barely a trace of brick, concrete, or glass in sight.

Orville led us through the front door, where a receptionist was waiting for us. She escorted us to a bare-bones conference room, where a man in a suit and two other men in more standard, although suspiciously clean, work gear were already waiting. I recognized one of the men as the lead mine supervisor Gary Flowers, basically my dad’s boss’s boss. Dad had always complained that the guy didn’t get into the mines enough to actually do his job well, and from the state of his clothes, I couldn’t disagree.

“Mr. Stokes,” the man in the suit said, as he came over to shake his hand. “We received word that you wanted to meet with us, but your office was very vague on details. As I told them, we are of course happy to cooperate with you in any way we can, but there isn’t much we can do up here. Are you sure you shouldn’t be talking to someone in Charleston?”

Since I’d had the same thought as we drove up here, I was very interested in hearing the answer to this question myself.

“I’m sure. My goal here today is to take care of this issue without it becoming something larger or needing the intervention of the company itself. I think once I lay out the situation, you’ll agree that handling it here, locally, is the best choice for everyone.”

“Could you at least explain what the issue is?”

“Certainly,” Stokes said, taking a seat at the table, which prompted the rest of us to follow suit. “Recently your operations team has been attempting to acquire some land on the edge of town from one of the local residents. I couldn’t find any filings or anything specific on it, but I assume it’s for some kind of expansion of the mines?”

The guy in the suit looked at Gary, who said, “The west vein expansion.”

I assumed that meant something to the guy in the suit, who just nodded and said, “Yes. That land is sitting atop a new vein we discovered separated off the main veins. It’s closer to the surface than some of the other areas we’ve targeted and the owner maintained mineral rights over it, so we’ve been in negotiations with them to acquire the land.”

“My understanding was the land owner rejected your offer,” Stokes said.

“Initially, yes, but we are still in discussions with them,” the man said.

I couldn’t help but notice both Gary and the other guy in work clothes shift a little bit, their eyes darting to Stokes before going back to focusing on their hands.

I was pretty sure Stokes picked up on the byplay as well when he said, “I think it might behoove you to have a deeper conversation with your subordinates about what constitutes their further discussions with the land owner. My understanding is that some of your employees have been making overt threats to the land owner, specifically comments indicating that not selling would be very dangerous to their health and long-term well-being.”

“I can assure you...” the man in the suit started to say before being interrupted by Stokes.

“I have no doubts, and I am very clearly not pointing any fingers at the moment. I will point out that these comments have been overheard or made in the presence of witnesses, including members of the sheriff’s department, which is how my office became aware of them. Now, as I said, I would prefer if this whole situation could be cleared up in house, to keep us from having our own version of the incidents up at McKinley.”

I hadn’t recognized the reference to an ‘incident up north’ back at the station, but now that he put a name to it, the incident clicked. There’d been a bunch of news reports spread out over the last few months of some conflicts between employees of Dixon’s McKinley mine up near the Pennsylvania border and some of the local residents that resulted in one of those residents getting shot. It ended up generating both criminal cases and a bunch of lawsuits that ultimately caused the whole operation to shut down.

The guy in the suit clearly read between the same lines because his agitation levels, already pretty high, seemed to jump through the roof and he was doing his absolute best to both make eye contact with his subordinates, who were doing their best to avoid it, all while trying to remain nonchalant. If this didn’t involve Rosita, I might have found the whole situation funny.

“I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding. We would never...”

“Of course not,” Stokes said, interrupting him again. “Which is why I’m here. I understand subordinates can sometimes become overzealous in trying to exceed expectations and I want to ensure we’re all on the same page. The property owner has made it clear they unequivocally do not want to sell and want any attempts to pressure the sale of the land to end. Now, I know this will upset some of your expansion plans, but I think we can all agree that is better than the alternative. I also want you to understand this is a one-time trip. While I would prefer we keep things from escalating and am willing to let you handle this in-house, if this problem crops up again, I’ll have no choice but to take things to the next level. Clear?”

“Absolutely,” The guy said, looking relieved now that he knew this wasn’t going to escalate. “I can promise you we’ll have a talk with our people and make sure we don’t have any more misunderstandings.”

“Good. I appreciate the help.”

Stokes apparently liked a dramatic exit, because he stood up and walked out of the room, ending the conversation there and causing Orville and me to have to scramble to catch up. I was almost to him when Gary came out of the conference room at a brisk walk and caught up with me.

“Henry,” he said, grabbing my shoulder, causing me to stop. “I just wanted to let you know how sorry I was to hear about your father.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, not really feeling anything of the sort, since this guy had always given Dad a hard time.

“I want you to know that I know you’re dating the person who owns the land, and I would consider it a personal favor to me if you could talk to her for me. Tell her I’m sorry some of our people got out of hand, and we’ll take care of it. We owe your family that much, after all.”

I knew he didn’t care one way or the other what happened to my family or anyone I knew, but I also knew he was about to catch a mountain of shit from the guy in the suit. Everything in the man’s body language suggested he didn’t know how far Evan, who almost certainly reported to Flowers, had gone. Although the suit guy probably wouldn’t have cared last week, a visit from the DA made everything different.

“Just make sure she doesn’t get any more threats, and I’m sure everything will end here.”

“You have my word on it.”

I had no reason to believe him, but I didn’t push it. I gave him a small nod and hustled to catch up to Stokes and Orville.

Having worked the previous night and then spending the morning with Orville and Stokes, I was wiped out. Since I didn’t work until the next night shift, I went home to get some sleep so I could spend the evening hanging out with Rosita, like we always did on days I didn’t have to work the night shift.