Matthew sized up the property as he walked up the stone path. It didn’t scream money. In fact, it was modest by Eagle Ridge standards, and the GMC Sierra parked in the drive was at least five years old. The red Audi was high-end, but it too looked several years old.
Perhaps Peter Oaks had had to pay back the money he’d squandered during his mismanagement of the company, leaving him on a tighter budget than he’d been used to. Matthew felt a twinge of sympathy for Natalie Oaks. Any donation would be made through the R&D company, not her personal account, but nonetheless he was grateful she’d agreed to talk to him.
She must have been watching out the window, because she opened the door before he had a chance to ring the bell. She was tall, willowy, and carried herself with grace and poise as she greeted him. She was wearing a simple white dress with no jewellery beyond pearl studs and a wedding ring. Her only nod to artifice was a blue streak in her hair. Yet she managed to look gorgeous.
“Thank you for coming,” she said softly as she led him down the hall. “It can be difficult for me to get away.”
“Thank you for seeing me,” he said, trying to pull himself back on track. “I’ve looked at the materials your company sent, and I like the —”
“Red or white?” She had set up a tray with wine glasses, two bottles, and a platter of cheeses. “Or would you prefer coffee?”
“Red is fine. Thank you.”
She poured them both a generous glass. “How long have you known Amanda?”
“Years. We met in Thailand more than ten years ago. She was an aid worker in Cambodia and I was an overseas correspondent.”
“And now you’ve come back to help run her company.”
“Charity. Yes. Ten years is a long time to be doing that kind of work. And there are plenty of ways to help right here in Canada. But financially, yes, we’re a registered charity and we have proper financial oversight …” He was about to launch into his pitch.
“What’s she like?”
It wasn’t uncommon for big donors to want some background information on the company and on Amanda personally, but in this case, the question was loaded with added meaning. He chewed his lip as he considered the question. In the silence, he could hear the floor creaking overhead, and for an instant, her gaze flicked toward the ceiling.
“She’s completely committed to helping people. She’s the most genuinely honest and caring person I’ve ever met, which is why I joined up with her.”
“And what does she want out of all this?”
“To give people hope. To show them there’s a light at the end of their tunnel.”
“No, I mean what’s in it for her?”
He met her gaze over the rim of his glass. That too was a question loaded with meaning, the answer far too complex and personal for him to share. What was Natalie after, he wondered?
“What we all want, I imagine,” he replied. “A sense of meaning in what we do?”
She broke the gaze and picked at a loose thread on the chair. “That’s a luxury for most of us, don’t you think? Survival is more common.”
“That too,” he added. “Only our psychoanalyst knows for sure, right? But whatever her motivation, she does good work. Fun for Families makes a difference, not just to the individuals who participate in the adventures but also to the charities we support. The bulk of the donations this time goes to Reconciliation Canada.”
“It’s a good cause, and I’m happy to commit some money. I’m just curious about Amanda. Her past, her family, what makes her tick.”
“If you like, I can arrange for you to meet her some time,” he countered.
“Oh, I have met her. She’s … very pushy.”
He laughed. “She is that. That’s how she gets things done.”
“And does she usually get what she wants?”
“Do any of us?”
She flushed. “Sorry,” she murmured, “that was too personal.” She leaned over to top up his glass. He didn’t object, although he didn’t intend to drink it all. Keeping one step ahead of her was requiring all his concentration.
“I appreciate you’re loyal to her,” she began again. “That’s a rare thing, loyalty. I hope I can trust her.”
He was about to reassure her when the phone shrilled. They both jumped. Upstairs, he heard the thump of footsteps and a moment later a man’s voice. Natalie shot to her feet and hurried toward the end table to snatch up the phone. She said hello, listened a few seconds, and hung up. Upstairs, the voice stopped.
Natalie looked at the call display. “They hung up.”
“Telemarketers,” he said. “They’re a scourge.”
“This number has called a few times when I’m not home. I hope Peter isn’t answering it, because heaven knows what they’d get out of him. All our bank account numbers, probably.”
“You should cancel the landline. Who needs it these days?”
“You’re probably right. I’ve been reluctant to go completely mobile, but with all these scammers and fraud artists about, Peter would be an easy mark. And we still get harassing phone calls. People angry with Peter or hostile to the oil and gas industry. It has died down, but people can be cruel.” She continued to look at the phone. “Although this doesn’t look like a scammer phone number.”
“Sophisticated scams can be run through any number.” When he rose to go to her side, she showed him the number. “I don’t recognize that area code. Do you?”
She shook her head.
“If you’re worried about Peter, you could Google the number or try reverse phone look-up on Canada 411. Or —” He shot her a grin, “you can just cancel the landline.”
She returned to her chair and sank back. Her second glass of wine was nearly empty, and she looked profoundly weary. “That might be safest. If Peter’s been answering, who knows what trouble he could get into?”
Hank Klassen was almost exactly as Amanda had pictured him. His massive, linebacker frame matched his booming voice, and although he had to be at least sixty, only a few glints of silver shot through his bristly hair. He had a deep tan that suggested hours of sun, fresh air, and exercise. From his expensive but casual shirt and slacks, Amanda suspected it was on the golf links.
Hank had proposed a lunch meeting at Caesar’s Steak House, an institution in downtown Calgary from the cattle baron days. “I hope he’s picking up the tab,” Matthew muttered when he told Amanda. The décor at Caesar’s was almost worthy of the Palace of Versailles: burgundy leather chairs, white linen, crystal chandeliers, marble pillars, gold accents, and a plush red carpet that muffled all sound. Hank rose to greet them with an extended hand as they approached and took control of the meeting from the moment they sat down.
“It’s real nice to meet you in person, Amanda. I been reading up on your work since I spoke to your friend on the phone. I admit I never heard of your outfit before, but I was impressed. You do good work. Not just right here in Canada but in your overseas charities. You know that world over there, you got connections, and there’s nothing like eyes on the ground to separate the glossy pamphlet crap from the outfits that make a real difference.”
“Thank you. But we seem like an small organization for a company as big as yours to bother with.”
Matthew shot her an alarmed look that she ignored. When the waiter arrived with three martinis, Amanda managed to hide her dismay. She’d never seen the appeal of the drink.
“This is just to get us started,” Hank explained. “To your point, nothing is too small. Everybody starts off small, myself included. It’s quality that counts.”
“Yes, you did start off in the trenches. Those must have been interesting days. Were you there in the boom of the seventies?”
He sipped appreciatively. “Just squeaked in at the end, but I’ve seen plenty of boom and bust. You hitch your wagon to the oil business, you’re in for a wild ride.”
“Have you always been with Norsands?”
“Started there, moved around a bit, companies came and went, but now here I am back again. And in a position to help out your enterprise.”
Matthew smiled and looked ready to make his opening pitch, so Amanda pressed on. “You’ve certainly done all right for yourself.”
Hank grinned and picked up the menu. “Before we get down to brass tacks, let’s order. And it’s gotta be steak. You don’t come to Caesar’s to eat rabbit food. You’re not one of those vegan types, are you?”
Both she and Matthew demurred and picked up the menus. Hank directed them to the main section and pointed to Matthew’s stomach.
“You look like a man who could handle the ribeye. Individually cut to size, with their signature steak spice, and charbroiled on an open flame. And you, young lady, the melt-in-your-mouth filet is made for you. Am I right?”
Amanda had to suppress a laugh at Matthew’s red face. Hank summoned the waiter with a quick glance and took over the ordering. Amanda had taken him for a beer kind of guy, but to her surprise and delight, he ordered a well-aged Spanish red. She took a small sip of her martini before sliding it subtly aside.
Once the waiter left, Hank rubbed his hands with glee like a small boy. “Every chance I get, I bring people here. It’s not just a great meal — it’s an experience. So let’s get the business out of the way so we can sink our teeth into it.”
This time Amanda let Matthew proceed. Within less than fifteen minutes they had hammered out a reasonable contribution in exchange for a opportunity to do an evening presentation and put the company logo as a proud sponsor on the Fun for Families website. Amanda was surprised at how little Hank had asked for and wondered if he had a hidden agenda, just like her.
The waiter had just whisked away the Caesar salads when they wrapped up the business portion. Amanda wasted no time in plunging back into her own agenda. “I’ve been busy too. I found the woman my uncle was seeing in Fort Mac. Shelley Oaks. As it turns out, she’s the sister of Peter Oaks, whom I’m sure you know.”
Hank managed a nod as he took a gulp of his martini. “Everyone knows Peter Oaks, but his sister’s been a recluse. Where’d you find her?”
“In the U.S. She’s been living there for years. Do you remember her?”
Hank made a show of thinking. “Yeah. Pretty little thing. Did you find your uncle too?”
“Not yet, but I did learn they were an item in Fort McMurray, and they left under a cloud. They came back to the Oaks farm near Drumheller. Do you remember why they left?”
“As I recall, she was fired. At least that was the story.”
“Why was she fired?”
“No idea. That was between her and the site boss.”
“What was the boss’s name?”
“Can’t remember. Sean somebody.”
Amanda picked her next words carefully, for Hank had abandoned his folksy charm and become wary. “Was there anything between her and this Sean?”
“Not that I heard.”
“Hank …” She leaned forward. “Those were different times, and I’m not trying to judge anyone. I know those work camps were a man’s world. A young woman — pretty and straight off the farm — would have been an easy mark.”
He shifted in his chair. “Not that easy. She was a playful little thing. There were lots of guys sniffing around her.”
“Including the site boss?”
Hank drained his martini. “Could be. So what?”
“I haven’t been able to find my uncle. No one has heard from him, or of him, since those days thirty years ago.” She considered telling him about the baby but decided to respect the Oakses’ privacy. “He quit in sympathy with her, didn’t he? What exactly happened?”
Their wine and steaks arrived, providing Hank with the perfect distraction. He had Matthew rhapsodizing over their ribeyes, and even Amanda had to admit her filet mignon was exquisite. She allowed them all a few minutes of ecstasy before retrieving the thread.
“I don’t know what happened to him, and frankly, I’m worried. I’ve reported him missing. So what happened between them all?”
Hank studied her as if weighing his options. “You haven’t heard anything in thirty years?”
She shook her head. “Neither has Shelley or Peter Oaks or my family. You know something, don’t you?”
Hank sliced through a piece of oozing red meat. “Okay. I don’t know much, and most of it was just talk, but I don’t suppose it matters now after all these years. I never liked the guy much anyway. Sean O’Regan, I remember his name now. And yeah, he was after her. Not much else to chase up there, and she had that fresh, farm girl beauty. No make-up, no airs, just sweet. Jonny fell head over heels, and so did half the camp. Guys looked for any excuse to drop by the site office just to hear her laugh. But the boss was at the head of the line. He figured he was owed. He didn’t take too good to being turned down.”
Amanda felt a chill at the thought of a young girl all alone in a work camp miles from nowhere. “What do you mean?”
Hank looked up from his steak. “What do you think? He made advances, she turned him down, the more she turned him down, the more he wanted her. Followed her back to her dorm and hung around outside. Turned up at bars where she and Jonny were.”
“You saw all this?”
“Some of it. Heard the rest. Jonny got upset. Jealous. He wanted her to quit, but she was a little firecracker, that one. She wanted to prove to —” He broke off abruptly.
“Prove what?”
“She wanted to make her own money, not depend on her big brother.”
“So what happened? Why was she fired?”
“The thing is, she was giving Sean mixed messages. Trying not to piss him off too much, because he was the boss, after all. Lots of guys thought she led him on. I guess it blew up. She had a showdown with him — the boss, that is — and next thing we knew, she was out on her ear. And Jonny right on her heels.”
“What was the showdown?”
He shrugged as he chewed. “No idea,” he mumbled through a mouthful of steak.
Amanda mulled over what he’d revealed. None of it surprised her. Even today, men’s work camps in remote regions were notorious for their caveman attitudes. Alcohol, isolation, and male bonding could turn even decent men into jerks. Nothing Hank had told her was out of the norm.
“Why didn’t you want to tell me this?”
“Because of Shelley. Back then, I mean. Guys were spreading all kinds of rumours. That she wanted it, that she teased. You know the drill. Peter Oaks asked me to keep it all under my hat.”
Amanda couldn’t hide her surprise. “Peter Oaks? Why?”
“To stop the rumour mills. Protect his sister’s reputation. Like I said, those were different times. None of this Me Too stuff up there.”
“And how did you know Peter Oaks?”
“He came up to the site a couple of months after Shelley left. He was expanding his oil business, putting some more wells on his property. He said he was looking to recruit, but I guess he was looking to make sure things stayed quiet.”
“So did he recruit you? What was your reward for helping him?”
Hank shoved aside his empty plate and looked across at her. His eyes flashed. “We made a deal, just like you and me did. That’s the way the world turns. You got something I want, I got something you want.”
Her gaze drifted over the opulent restaurant at the hushed waiters and the quiet glow of money. “Peter Oaks has been good to you.”
Matthew shot her a furious look. Hank’s shoulders bunched like a linebacker about to defend the line. “I made my own way. Yeah, Oaks and I have given each other a helping hand, but I got here because I’m good.”
She held up her hands. “Sorry, Hank. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m frustrated and worried about my uncle, and sometimes my big mouth gets the better of me. I appreciate everything you’ve told me.”
Hank’s shoulders relaxed. “Fair enough. Now maybe we can put all this away and think about dessert?”
“Great idea!” Matthew said, but Amanda wasn’t done.
“Only if you can tell me one last thing. What happened to the site boss? Did he face any flak?”
Hank looked genuinely surprised. “Why should he? No, life moved on. So did he. I think he left before Peter Oaks turned up.”
“Do you know where he went?”
Hank shook his head. “But the oil business was beginning to tank. Lots of guys were getting laid off.”
“Have you heard from him since?”
“No, but like I said, I was never a big fan. He was an east coaster, like half the guys. Guys come, make a pile of money, and leave.” He nodded to the waiter, signalling they were all moving on.