Before heading down to his meeting with Vicky at the Mescalero Ranch, Garrett swung by the house to pick up Asadi, who was more than a little rattled given the day’s sad and unexpected turn of events. Not only had David Sanchez been a constant fixture in his life, but the fact that Asadi was present when the visiting inspector passed away had naturally hit the kid doubly hard.
Hoping that Savanah might offer some much-needed cheering up, Garrett dropped Asadi off at the horse barn, where she worked, and then drove to Vicky’s office in her mansion home. At the top of the ridge, he parked between her white Range Rover and a silver Mercedes AMG.
Garrett had just exited his black GMC pickup when he saw a very familiar face coming out of the front door. It wasn’t just familiar because it was his sister. It was familiar because she was the spitting image of his beautiful mother. Same silky black hair, high cheekbones, and slender frame. In fact, Grace was probably around the same age now that their mom was when she died.
It should’ve made for some warm feelings, but seeing the woman who’d abandoned their family when they’d needed her most produced a shock wave of emotional pain. Garrett was about to start the conversation with some trite saying like you’ve got a lot a nerve when she beat him to the punch with a wallop of kindness.
“My baby brother.” Grace’s eyes twinkled just liked their mom’s. “Handsome as ever.”
Garrett didn’t believe a word of it but smiled anyhow. He still wore the same look as he’d had during his days undercover with the DEA. It was a rodeo rogue kind of style that included Howler Brothers pearl snaps, Twisted-X cowboy boots, and Lone Star Dry Goods trucker hats. With his sleeve tattoos, thick beard, and long dark hair that fell well past his collar, he could blend in with ranch hands, rig hands, and modern-day outlaws of every sort.
Grace, on the other hand, had always been into high fashion, even when the Kohl family barely had the money to make ends meet. Garrett didn’t know anything about couture, as his girlfriend, Lacey, called it. But he’d run in enough wealthy circles during his days with the cartel to recognize a few iconic patterns and emblems on Grace’s outfit, like Burberry and Chanel.
Disarmed by her dewy sweet charm, Garrett softened as she brought him into a full embrace. “Hey there, sister. How are you?”
Grace stepped back and took him all in. “Your timing couldn’t be better. I was just about to call you.”
Garrett glanced over at Vicky, who was standing at the front door with a drink in each hand. The martini no doubt belonged to Grace. That had always been her drink of choice, even in high school. Whenever everyone else was drinking Natty Light and Boone’s Farm, she was preparing her palate for a more sophisticated lifestyle.
Before Garrett could ask what was going on, Vicky walked out and handed him a highball of bourbon. “A little Garrison Brothers Balmorhea?” She added in a throaty whisper, “Think it’s time we celebrate.”
Given the circumstances surrounding the explosion and the protesters, Garrett had naturally assumed Vicky would be in the foulest of moods. But cocktails before noon meant something was up. Something big. Of course, she would take almost any occasion to clink glasses, he’d learned. In fact, she’d once had him make a toast on Boxing Day. Whatever the hell that is?
After they moved inside to the office, their conversation unfolded in the most pleasant of ways. Come to find out, Vicky’s happy disposition was prompted by the fact that Grace had returned home bearing generous gifts, which centered on a pipeline connecting major petroleum-producing fields in the Panhandle to the Permian Basin, which would ultimately be converted into liquefied natural gas, or LNG, at a facility on the Texas Gulf Coast.
“To be clear, this isn’t just any pipeline,” Grace explained. “It’d be a major artery. The biggest in regional history.” She stood and walked over to an easel, supporting a large map of Texas. There was a legend indicating which pipelines were in existence, and which were proposed. “We’d link up around Midland and run southeast to Brownsville, where it will be converted to LNG for the European market.”
Garrett had so many questions he barely knew where to start. The Kohl Ranch was sitting above the Anadarko Basin, one of the largest natural gas formations in the United States. But the Permian oilfields were flush with it too. He found it unlikely any mineral owners or operators working exclusively in that area would ever want to spread the wealth. The devil was always in the details, and he was sitting in an office with two of the dark lord’s most devious minions.
Garrett cocked his head and turned to his sister. “Why do you need us? The Permian should be covered on delivery.”
Grace looked to Vicky and back again before speaking. “This is no ordinary deal we’re making. This is bigger than just us. We’ll need to pool our resources to meet demand.”
Given what he knew about the vast natural gas reserves in the Permian Basin, Garrett doubted that was true. And he suspected she had an ulterior motive. “Well, that’d be a big deal for sure. What are we talking about here on terms?
“This is a fifty-year contract, Garrett. With the loss of Russian natural gas, the European Union is looking for a long-term stable source to replace it. Obviously, they’re moving toward renewables, but they’re not going to get there overnight. This would bridge that gap. We’re talking tens of billions of dollars in contracts for LNG. And that doesn’t even cover the infrastructure investment, also in the billions. This deal is going to change everything.”
Garrett looked to Vicky, who couldn’t seem to contain her grin.
There wasn’t much to think about in terms of the financial upside. When he’d partnered with Vicky’s Mescalero Energy, they’d come up with an arrangement whereby his company, Savage Exploration, would share in the profits from any drilling in unexplored zones. In exchange for resources from Kohl Ranch, such as groundwater, frac sand, and road materials, he could participate in joint operating agreements on any oil wells considered new production.
The bottom line was that the more they drilled, the more money he made. The downside was that it further depleted his land’s natural resources. And they were dwindling already. He knew though that beggars couldn’t be choosers. And he still owed Vicky for getting him out of debt.
Doing his best to only see the upside, he replied, “Well, I think this would provide a permanent market. No worries about price fluctuation. We’d lock in a deal that would keep Mescalero Energy and Savage Exploration in operation for at least two generations.”
“Savage?” Grace asked, looking confused.
Garrett had once overheard one of Vicky’s henchmen, an on-the-payroll local sheriff named Ted Crowley, refer to him as “the offspring of a savage.” It was an ugly dig based on his Comanche heritage, which didn’t faze him in the least. In fact, he took it as a compliment.
Garrett shrugged. “Just thought it was catchy, I guess.”
“Well, it’s sure to become a household name. Assuming we have your full support.”
“Support for what exactly?”
Grace pointed to the map again. “Here on our ranch is where we’d want to put in a connecter. It’s right in the fairway of the best natural gas fields around. Perfect nexus for other pipelines around the Panhandle. We’d have to beef the Washita Compressor Station but that won’t be a problem. Crews will be out here anyway getting the Mescalero unit repaired.”
There were three things in her statement that didn’t sit well with Garrett. He was all for letting bygones be bygones with Grace, but she’d used the term our ranch. Sure, she was family, but she hadn’t stepped foot on the place in years. Her plan also meant there would be more trenches and construction. There was already enough activity given the drilling operations. And lastly, there was still the chance of an accident, as they’d only just witnessed.
The Kohl Ranch had only recently recovered from the damage done by a rare earth minerals mine and a devastating wildfire. How much more could the land possibly take?
Garrett further wondered what Grace’s official role would be in all this. Her husband owned a bank in Midland-Odessa that had several locations around West Texas, which were filled with oil and gas money. He suspected that Grace was sent up as some sort of Permian Basin envoy to the Texas Panhandle since she was an acquaintance of the Kaisers and a member of the Kohl family. Before he could inquire about that, Vicky changed the subject.
“And don’t worry about those filthy hippies, Garrett. Smitty and Bo are seeing to that.”
Garrett braced for impact when he asked, “Seeing to what exactly?”
He hadn’t seen the “hippies” yet, but Garrett had gotten an earful from Ray Smitty when he’d called about the trespasser Tony Sanchez had mentioned at the hospital. Apparently, some protesters were blocking the road leading up to the compressor station and chanting slogans in front of news crews that were there to film the fire.
Vicky smiled, looking coy. “Oh . . . I sent them over to see what all the fuss was about. Make sure there wouldn’t be any more accidents.”
Garrett’s first reaction was to put an immediate stop to whatever schemes she was hatching, but her comment took him by surprise. “Sounds like you think these protesters were behind it.”
“Ecoterrorism,” Vicky stated with confidence. “These people are getting more and more radical every day. You should see what they’re doing over in England.”
Garrett had to admit that some of these groups were doing some disturbing things to get their messages across. But he doubted Smitty and Bo had the skills to do a thorough arson investigation. With Tony’s revelation of a trespasser on the site before the explosion, they couldn’t rule anything out. But Vicky’s plan, particularly now that she thought this was an act of environmental terrorism, had corporate scandal written all over it.
“Call off Smitty and Bo for now and let me do a little digging. I’ll see what I can find out.”
Vicky seemed reluctant but didn’t argue. “Okay . . . I’ve got another job for them, anyhow.”
Garrett looked to Grace. “So, are you headed back to Odessa?” As soon as he asked, he regretted it. It was meant to be idle conversation. But he should’ve known better.
“Was planning on sticking around to hammer out a few of the finer points.” Grace looked to Vicky. “What’s the best and nearest hotel around here these days?”
Garrett hoped Vicky would chime in with an offer of one of the seventeen extra bedrooms on the Mescalero grounds. But when no invitation was forthcoming, he was left on the hook. With nothing short of herculean effort, he rallied to smile.
“Well, of course you’re welcome at the house, Grace. Just, me, Dad, and Asadi these days. The boy took your old room, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind camping out on the couch.”
His sister’s face beamed in a way that looked like genuine gratitude. “If it’s not a bother, that’d be wonderful. I think it’s been years since I’ve been home.”
As they wrapped up the rest of the meeting, Garrett didn’t know what to fret about first. The fact that they were potentially a target of ecoterrorism was one thing, but breaking the news to Butch about their new houseguest was going to be a helluva lot worse.