Redemption Mountain (57 page)

Yarbrough turned white and clumsily tried to find an escape route through the folding chairs. McCord turned to the room. “And that goes for the rest of you bums.” He pointed two fingers at Torkelson and Tuthill. Red Landon, anger written across his face, stood between them, a firm hold on each man's arm, and ushered them forcefully toward the door, accompanied by several others and one of the SEC men.

Then McCord found Mulrooney, already on his way to the door between two Continental Electric Systems people and the second SEC man. Following close behind were Warren Brand and Terry Summers, escorted by Lucien Mackey.

At the front of the room, Duncan McCord didn't have to bang a gavel for attention. As soon as he started to speak, the room went quiet. “This hearing never should have happened. This is not the way the OntAmex Energy Company or its subsidiaries operates, and I apologize to the DeWitt family for the way some of our representatives have treated them. We have no intention of using our financial or political power to circumvent the laws or regulations of any state or government agency or to be a party to the environmental catastrophe of mountaintop-removal coal mining. It's not going to happen—in West Virginia or anywhere else.

“The miners in the room should know that our subsidiary, Ackerly Coal, will open a coal mine on Redemption Mountain and hire plenty of union miners to operate a slope mine to fuel the Red Bone power plant. We'll mine Redemption Mountain the old way, without destroying what God put down here to make West Virginia a special place.” He looked back toward the DeWitts. “Without destroying the history and tradition of one of your state's great families.”

Charlie followed Duncan's gaze and noticed Hank standing with his arm around Alice's shoulders.

“It'll cost us more,” McCord continued, “but it's a price we'll pay.” He crossed his arms and studied the floor for a few seconds. “You know, for a long time,” he continued softly, “for most of the last century, big companies—coal companies and steel companies and utilities—have taken unfair advantage of coal miners and the coal-mining areas of this country, with West Virginia at the top of the list, I'd guess. So,” McCord narrowed his eyes in thought as he gazed over the room, “now that the OntAmex Energy Company is getting into the coal-mining business, as an old friend of mine so eloquently put it not long ago, maybe it's time for us to just cut it out.” McCord put his hands in his pockets, looked out at the crowd, and winked at Charlie.

When it was clear that McCord was through, Hank clapped his wrinkled old hands together loudly, and then again, and then the miners joined in. Soon, the entire room, which by this time was mostly local residents, was applauding this outsider, as many of them had done at a picnic two and a half years earlier. Charlie sat watching the Dewitt celebration, with the Pie Man at his side. Then something kicked his ankle hard, and he looked up to see Duncan McCord staring down at him, an angry look on his face. “You screwed up a good vacation in the Canary Islands, Burden.”

Charlie smiled at his old friend. “That's tough.”

McCord turned to Pie and smiled at his Michigan T-shirt, then held out a fist. “Go, Blue.” Pie's face scrunched up into an instant happy face as he touched knuckles with the OntAmex president. McCord studied the boy for a few seconds, then looked back at Charlie. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Natty's voice.

“C'mon, Pie Man, we gotta go.” She stood ten feet away, and Charlie came to his feet.

“Dunc, this is—”

“We've met,” said McCord, turning to Natty. “A couple of times now.”

Natty's smile returned as she watched Charlie's eyebrows rise in curiosity. She'd let him wonder. “Goin' out to the Roadhouse for a beer to celebrate,” said Natty. “Love to have you boys join us.”

McCord grimaced. “Nothing in the world I'd rather do right now, but I've got to get back to Toronto tonight.”

“And I need to spend a few minutes with Duncan before he leaves,” said Charlie. “Maybe I'll see you there later.”

*   *   *

M
CCORD HANDED CHARLIE
one of the short dark cigars he'd bummed from a miner in the parking lot. They stopped and turned away from the wind to light them, before starting out for a walk around the athletics field. In the center of the field, the helicopter hissed and whined as it began its warm-up sequence. They walked slowly to enjoy their short time together.

“This isn't done here, Charlie, you realize that, right?”

Charlie kicked a small stone on the track. “Yeah, I know that, Dunc. But you did what you could.”

McCord blew out a cloud of smoke. “Another year or two, merger's done, we'll be selling off all this coal stuff. It's not our business.”

“I know.”

“Then Massey, or Consol, Arch—somebody else will own Redemption Mountain, and that'll be it for the DeWitt farm. That'll be it for the mountain. The economics kill you, Charlie.”

“I know. But until then … What the hell happened here tonight?”

“It was all about money,” said McCord. “Plain old greed and corruption and arrogance that, down here, nobody would care about what they did.” He spit out a piece of tobacco and shook his head angrily. “It was all Torkelson. Lining his pockets, using his position to get rich quick. That's the trouble with hiring these fucking government bureaucrats. They work at shit jobs for years, then the first chance they get in the private sector, they figure the system owes them a fat bonus and a retirement home on Jupiter Island.” They walked along the cinder track.

“Three years ago, Torkelson went to Ackerly and found a willing player in Mulrooney. He wanted five million to site the new plant in the heart of Ackerly's operations. Mulrooney knows that mountaintop removal is just about finished because of the environmentalists, so he offers Torkelson ten million for the coal contract, plus the help of OntAmex's political muscle to get a variance for Redemption Mountain. By the way, your numbers were a little off. It's about forty percent cheaper now to do a surface mine—about half a billion over twenty years. Makes ten million a pretty good investment up front.”

“So how'd you get on to him?”

“Red figured it out,” said McCord. “After your email, we started looking into the situation and realized that Torkelson and Tuthill were spending too much time down here. We put our investigator on it—the tall guy with the fedora—and he did some phone taps, broke into their emails, cellphones. All illegal, but we got what we needed. Mulrooney's got a big mouth, so we knew that's where the money was coming from. Then our guy got lucky and stumbled across Mulrooney's secretary, who he was tapping on the side. She spilled everything. Torkelson was getting the big dough, but he had to include Tuthill—he was getting two million—plus a million for that cocksucker lawyer. What's his name?”

“Yarbrough,” said Charlie.

McCord stopped and turned to face him. “Yarbrough—that was his scheme, that raid with the cops and the DEA.” McCord grimaced angrily. “Asshole. He's lucky nobody got killed that day.”

“Could've been a tragedy,” said Charlie.

McCord eyed him warily as he puffed on his cigar. “Understand someone tipped off farmer DeWitt they were coming.”

Charlie flicked the ash from his cigar. “That's what I heard, too.”

“Someone using your cellphone.”

“Gotta stop leaving it lying around.”

“Lucien told me you did a nice tap dance all over that lawyer in New York.”

Charlie looked over and saw Lucien and Mal at the edge of the field. “Where does Lucien stand now?” asked Charlie.

“He was never out. Red went ballistic when he heard what Torkelson was trying to pull.” McCord looked back toward the parking lot. “Red might be beating the shit out of Torkelson right now. I better find him.”

“What about Brand?”

“He's done. Red's going to New York on Monday. Lucien'll call another executive-committee meeting, and Red will lay it all out for them. The other kid, too, the pretty boy—”

“Summers.”

“He's gone, too. He was getting half a million. They brought him in after we announced the merger with CES and Hugo Paxton died. They sucked you into the scheme to keep me out of it. They wanted him in to keep an eye on you. They didn't think you would get so involved in things down here, and that Summers could represent DD&M.”

“What about the judge? How much was he in for?”

McCord shook his head. “Judge was clean. He was just ready to do his country club pals a favor and get a variance for the surface mine. He was on the team but not on the take.”

“So, that was just for my benefit, to get me to want the farm as much as they did, to protect you and the merger,” said Charlie.

McCord laughed. “Nice job,” he said sarcastically. “First chance you get, you screw me and go over to the farmer's team.”

Charlie laughed, too. “They're nicer people.”

McCord threw his cigar into the weeds and turned toward Charlie. “You took quite a chance sending that email, Charlie. Could have been the end of your career.”

“Had to be done, Dunc. Hundred years is long enough.”

“Good thing you did, or the merger probably would have blown up, once the SEC got wind of Torkelson's hanky-panky. And that would have been it for me.”

McCord stopped walking. “You're doing okay, Burden, aren't you? Ellen told me all about your new house. She was real excited.”

“Yes, Dunc, financially we're—”

“That's not what I meant, Charlie.” McCord studied his friend's face. “You break your nose again?” He squinted to see better. “You definitely get uglier every time I see you.”

Charlie shrugged. “Took a high stick in a bar one night. It's a rough town.”

McCord scowled. “What's up with you and Ellen?”

Charlie guessed that McCord had received some information about Natty and him during the investigation. “Ellen and I are going to split up,” he said. “We're … moving in different directions. Have been for a long time.”

McCord nodded. “That's a huge break for Ellen. You've been holding her back for years.” Charlie smiled and nodded in agreement.

“This have anything to do with the girl,” McCord nodded back toward the school, “and the kid?”

Charlie gazed over toward the parking lot. “Yeah,” said Charlie, “it's got a lot to do with them.”

“Can't turn back the clock, Charlie. Can't make up for past mistakes,” he said.

“I know that, Dunc. Not trying to. It's not about me.”

McCord studied Charlie's face for a moment before he was satisfied. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I'm not sure yet. Think we might find some small town somewhere. Maybe Vermont or Wyoming. I was thinking about becoming a carpenter.”

McCord stared pensively at Charlie for a few seconds, then glanced toward the helicopter. “I have to get going.” He smiled at Charlie. “You're an idiot, Burden,” he said, shaking his head, “but … Jesus, Charlie, I envy you.” The two friends hugged before McCord turned and darted toward the helicopter. A minute later, it disappeared into the black sky, heading north.

 

CHAPTER 33

 

T
he new field was already firm, and if the weather stayed warm through the rest of November, it would need mowing soon. Natty couldn't help smiling as she recalled the uneven dirt and weed patch that they used to play on.

It wasn't lined, and the new goals wouldn't arrive until next spring, but the Bones didn't need them to practice for their opening game of the tournament on Friday. Natty watched her players dribbling balls from one end of the field to the other and back. Out in front, Emma was with the Bones' new assistant coach, Gabe, the midfielder from Welch. They always seemed to have fun when they were together, which thrilled Natty. It was a wonderful new experience for Emma.

Natty looked uphill and saw Charlie's blue Lexus coming toward her. She wandered over to the side of the road as Charlie slowed to a stop. She could see a small suitcase and Charlie's briefcase in the backseat. He opened his door and faced her over the car. “Looks like this is getting to be our regular way of meeting,” he said.

Natty smiled. “Probably a good idea to keep a car between us at all times.” She looked down into the car again. “Taking a trip?” she asked.

“I have to go up to New York for a few days—some meetings to sort the fallout from the hearing. Then we're going up to Vermont for Thanksgiving.”

“Coming back?”

“Sunday night,” said Charlie, watching her closely.

“Gonna miss the tournament.”

“I know,” said Charlie wistfully. He looked over at the Bones, who were running. “But my daughter and my son are coming up.…” He hesitated. “And I need to have some time with Ellen.”

Natty drummed her fingers on the top of the car. “Charlie, you know when I called you after Woody died, well, maybe that wasn't real fair to you, and if you want to think it over some more…”

Charlie smiled and shook his head. “No, Nat, I don't have any doubts.” He tilted his head slightly to look into Natty's eyes. “How about you?”

“God, no, Charlie,” she almost whispered. “Best thing ever happened to me. Best thing ever happened to my kids, too. Hell, I've been dreamin' about this my whole life.” She looked away as the excitement drained from her face. “Just that … I ain't said anything to Buck yet. Hasn't been a good time for that.”

“How's he been?” asked Charlie.

“He's been, you know … okay. Different. Since he started working and the day he spent with you cuttin' the trees, he's been … better.” She shook her head. “Don't change a thing.” Natty chewed her bottom lip. “Just makes it, you know, a little harder, that's all. I'm going to tell him, Charlie,” she said forcefully. “This week, before we go to Charleston on Friday.”