Yarlberg was spirited away at the conclusion of the press conference. Derek and his team eventually found themselves in the antechamber of his office where they were informed that he would speak with them shortly.
That was fine. They had more than enough to talk about.
“She actually spoke with Kate?” Danni asked.
Derek had to give her and the others credit – they’d kept their cool earlier when the question was asked. If any of them had reacted the wrong way, it wouldn’t have been disastrous per se, but some of the more intrepid members of the audience might have taken it upon themselves to dig deeper.
“It would seem so,” he replied after a moment.
Mitchell nodded. “That poor woman.”
“She didn’t deserve what she got,” Francis added.
Following the events of the Bonanza Creek massacre, during which her father and many of her friends were killed, Kate Barrows had been taken to a psychiatric hospital in Denver for observation. Unfortunately, she’d been driven over the edge by the ordeal. Derek had tried to intervene on her behalf, but had been ordered to stand down by his superiors and disavow any knowledge of her. With no one willing or able to come forward and back up her claims, she was declared mentally unstable and committed.
But apparently word of her story had leaked and at least some were willing to hear her out. That Wilhelm woman had done her homework and, in doing so, come dangerously close to the truth. Derek added that to the growing list of items he was going to have to talk with Norah about.
Danni momentarily averted her eyes from the rest of the group. “Nobody at Bonanza Creek did.”
Derek stepped over and put a hand on her shoulder. She had suffered every bit as much as Kate Barrows had, but he knew that, in the end, Danni had been made of sterner stuff. Where others had crumbled, she had risen to the occasion. Without her, Derek – and most likely the others, too – wouldn’t have made it out alive.
He gave the group a moment to mull that over, then pulled them back to the present. “What’s done is done. For now, it would seem we have at least one nosy reporter who hopefully isn’t smart enough to realize just how close she is to the real story.”
“I’d say we have more pressing concerns, pardon the pun,” Francis replied, indicating the door to the governor’s office. It was open and Eric Zeist was standing in the doorway, looking expectantly at them all.
♦ ♦ ♦
“I ask this with all due respect to your office and title, governor, but are you out of your mind?”
“Watch your tone,” Eric snapped.
“Or what?” Francis shot back. “Anytime you want to go, buddy...”
“Relax, Frank.” Derek said before turning back to Yarlberg. “I take it you’re unaware that what we do is best done without announcing it to the world.”
Yarlberg merely stared back at him, an arrogant grin on his wide face. “I am well aware of everything you do, Dr. Jenner.” He reached into his desk and produced a thick file. “You’ve had a number of fascinating adventures, if I might say so.”
Derek didn’t take the bait. He already knew Yarlberg had cronies in the fed. Responding with threats or histrionics would only give the man the reaction he obviously wanted. “As I am well aware. However, if you’ve read through that file, you’ll know that we typically don’t announce our presence beforehand.”
“This situation is somewhat different than those others.”
“I’ll say,” Mitchell muttered under his breath.
“Let me see if I can summarize,” Derek said, his attention on the governor. “You see, I read a lot, too. I know you’re up for reelection this fall. I also know that your approval ratings have been ... how do I say it ... less than stellar.”
Yarlberg’s face reddened, but he quickly composed himself. “It’s been a difficult few years here in the Garden State. We all do the best with what we have to work with.”
“Of course.”
“Fortunately, my main opponent in this year’s campaign isn’t exactly universally beloved. Still, I’m looking at a close race. I would prefer to not make it any closer.”
“We’re listening.”
“I’m sitting atop a potentially embarrassing situation. Not fatal in itself, but combined with all the smear campaigns being aimed at me...” Derek raised an eyebrow, but Yarlberg ignored it. “...It could have a snowball effect.”
“The disappearances?”
“Hardly,” Yarlberg replied, catching Derek by surprise.
“But I thought...”
“People disappear all the time, Dr. Jenner. That by itself is of little consequence. What concerns me is where it’s happening and the unwanted attention it could bring my administration.”
Derek turned and surveyed his team. They appeared as confused as he was.
Yarlberg paused for a moment. He seemed pleased to have his guests at a disadvantage. Derek had come into this with a preconceived notion of dislike for the man. He was almost relieved to find it being confirmed in spades. It saved him from having to spare any thoughts toward rethinking his position.
“I think it’s safe to say, governor, that you have our rapt attention. Do go on.”
“What do you know about the Pine Barrens?”
“We did our homework. We know the layout of the land, the fauna and flora to be expected, the...”
“Fascinating, I’m sure, but what do you know of the history of the Barrens?”
“The history of the sightings?”
“Forget the bloody devil!” Yarlberg snapped. “I’m talking real issues here, not fairy tales.”
Derek remained silent, which the governor seemed to take as a sign to continue. “People have been trying to develop the Barrens all the way back to before the American Revolution. At first it was just farmers, but that didn’t pan out. Damn soil is too acidic to support most food crops. Then the industries started moving in: lumber, paper, gristmills, steel...”
“Steel?” Danni asked.
Yarlberg glanced toward her, taking far too eager of a look in Derek’s opinion. “Yes, bog iron to be precise. Actually managed to get a decent toehold before the boom in Pittsburgh killed it.”
“So what happened?”
“They all failed, is what happened. Hell, the only business still going strong out there are the cranberry farmers, thanks to all the damn marshes.”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Mitchell said, “all of those industries, minus the cranberries of course, were renowned for being major sources of pollution.”
“I see at least one of you reads up on things other than what bigfoot shit smells like,” Yarlberg replied.
“I think I get where you’re going,” Francis said. “You think the Jersey Devil is some sort of east coast Toxic Avenger. Some kind of mutant running around who...”
“Tell me something, son,” Yarlberg commented. “When you’re not lugging around that camera, do they keep you locked in a dog crate?”
“What?! Listen, you pork rind eating son of a...”
“Frank,” Derek warned, cutting him off. “Let’s save the political discussion for later please.”
Francis glared at him for a moment, but then gave a quick nod.
Derek once more turned to Yarlberg. “Thank you for the history lesson, governor. Your point, though?”
“My point was, all of those industries shut down years ago, in some cases well over a century. It didn’t take the forest nearly that long to reclaim most of it. There’s just one problem.” He pushed a button on the intercom. “Myra, please send Mr. Krychech in.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Donald Krychech could have been the Stan Laurel to Yarlberg’s Oliver Hardy. Where the governor was large, dark haired, and had an aggressive attitude, Donald was thin, balding, and of seemingly nervous demeanor.
Upon introduction, he gave each of the team a limp handshake before moving to an empty seat.
“Mr. Krychech is the current director of the NJAEP.”
“Agency for Environmental Protection,” Donald clarified before going quiet again.
“I assumed as such,” Derek replied. “And does Mr. Krychech...”
“Yes, he knows all about what you and your lot do.”
“Wonderful. And, if I may ask, who else have you told?”
“Whoever I thought needed to know,” Yarlberg said, locking eyes with Derek – the two in a standoff of wills, each practically daring the other to say the wrong thing.
Finally, Derek said, in as judicial a tone as he could muster, “If I may, I’d like to request a full list of all the people who have been made aware of our undercover operative status.”
“I’m not sure I appreciate your tone, Dr. Jenner. You may have grandiose ideas about being some sort of secret agent, but I’m sure some could argue that you’re little more than a poacher on the government payroll.”
“Some?”
“No one I’m associated with, of course.”
“Of course not, governor, and I apologize for my tone. However, there is still the fact that our status is not public knowledge and, in fact, requires a security clearance of at least...”
“I’m a publically elected leader, Dr. Jenner, with powerful friends. In four years I’ll most likely be running for a seat in the Senate, which I fully expect to win. After that, who can say? It would behoove you to not worry about what clearance I might or might not have. Know that, should I ever obtain the seat which I truly have my heart set upon, I will be sure to remember those who played ball with me.”
“As well as those who didn’t?”
“Precisely.”
As far as Derek was concerned, this conversation was rapidly crossing the line from annoying to maddening. He was a conservationist when he could afford to be, and a hunter when he needed to be. This crap held no interest for him. That didn’t mean he liked being dicked around, though, which was exactly what Yarlberg was doing. The man was a skilled politician, so Derek wasn’t going to win a war of words. The fact that he was also a spoiled asshole, obviously used to getting his way, was merely exacerbating the situation. It wasn’t enough to bring his team in to do whatever job he wanted done – he had to pound it into their heads who was in charge.
Fortunately, Mitchell, the consummate researcher, spoke up before Derek could voice his opinion. “Mr. Krychech, the governor was telling us of some sort of problem related to the area’s history. What kind of problem are we talking about?”
Derek gave him a small glance of gratitude for steering the conversation back to business. They could always sort out the pissing match later.
“Donald, please,” the man replied meekly. “We have a potential ... situation in the Pine Barrens.”
“Situation?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Six months ago, we started getting disturbing readings from one grid deep in the Wharton State Forest. Nothing conclusive, mind you.”
“What kind of readings?”
“Concerning toxicity levels in the groundwater. That area has been a problem on and off. Seems every twenty or thirty years...”
“So what you’re telling us,” Derek said, “is that you have an environmental disaster in the making. Is that correct?”
“I prefer not to use that word, Dr. Jenner.”
Derek ignored him. Turning back to Yarlberg, he asked, “Exactly why are we here, governor?”
“Very well, I’ll be frank with you. However, be warned that this doesn’t leave this room. I don’t need to remind you of the consequences.”
Derek somehow bit his tongue. He was happy to see the rest of his team do likewise, Francis especially. The big man didn’t suffer bullshit artists lightly. If not for Derek’s earlier intervention, he would have most likely told the good governor to kiss their collective asses.
No doubt taking their silence as agreement, Yarlberg said, “To put it concisely, the good ole boys who used to do business out that way were some pretty big players in those days. When they closed up shop, they did a shit job cleaning up after themselves, and their pockets were deep enough to ensure that nobody made any stink about it.”
Donald nodded and added, “There are at least a dozen major abandoned facilities scattered throughout the region, that we know of anyway.”
“That you know of?” Mitchell asked.
“You have to understand, some of these go back centuries. Many of the original business entities no longer exist, and those that do aren’t particularly eager to air their dirty laundry. Once something is reclaimed by the forest, oftentimes you wouldn’t even know it’s there unless the floor rotted out beneath you and dropped you into a subbasement.”
“And, hypothetically speaking, what would one find in such a subbasement?” Derek asked.
At this, Donald looked highly uncomfortable. Finally, he answered, “That’s the problem. We don’t really know.”