Peak Oil (5 page)

Alexa shrugged.

Officer Thompson unlocked the cell door. “Your bail has been paid; you’re free to go.” She slid it open with a clank.

“At last,” Alexa said and picked up her jacket from the floor. “I was running out of playmates.”

Neil lay back in his car seat. He had parked in front of the police station and waited impatiently for the minutes to tick by as the air conditioner blew noisily. He flicked through the e-mails on his phone. Laiveaux had sent them the latest Interpol update on Anderson Fitch.
 

Fitch had been awarded the Texas Businessman of the Year award. Refatex stocks had risen by thirty basis points.
The Texan Daily
featured an exclusive with Andy Fitch on the front cover. The man winked, smiling charismatically. He wore a black suit and a bolo necktie, holding his Stetson in one hand and saluting a victory sign with the other.
 

Neil glanced at his watch. The two hours were up. He climbed out of the car and walked toward the entrance.

The doors sucked closed behind him as he was blasted by the frigid air. It felt as if he was entering a walk-in refrigeration unit. An old guy wearing a thick sweater manned the reception desk. Neil greeted the guy who introduced himself as Tony.
 

“I’d like to speak to Deputy Harvey, please.”

Tony picked up a phone, punched in a number, and mumbled a couple of words into the receiver. Clouds of vapor came from his mouth as he spoke.
 

He put the phone down and pointed to the waiting area. “Please have a seat.”

A minute later a red-faced Harvey tottered from behind the counter. He motioned Tony over. “Tony, all the paperwork has been processed on Miss Guerra. Get Jenkins to bring her to my office.”

Tony nodded and shuffled away. Harvey studied Neil, fidgeting with the side seam of his pants. “Please come to my office,” he said, his eyelids fluttering.

Deputy Harvey opened a flap at the side of the reception desk and allowed Neil to duck underneath. Neil followed him down a short passage to his office. It looked large and comfortable, unlike any deputy’s office that Neil had laid eyes on before. An elegant mahogany desk had been positioned on top of a plush terra-cotta-colored carpet. At the edge of the room, Neil noticed that the carpet covered drab linoleum tiles.
 

A framed photo of Obama hung on the wall above an upholstered leather chair behind the desk. Ranks of standard, government-issued, metal filing cabinets stood against the wall.

Harvey motioned to a chair, and Neil took a seat. The deputy paced around the office for a while, his thumbs hooked into the loops on his belt. He paid Neil no attention. A minute later, Alexa was brought in by a female officer.

Harvey waved the officer away and heaved his heavy frame down into his chair with a sigh. He closed his eyes and steepled his fingers in front of him, resting his elbows on an ample stomach.
 

“Whom do you represent,
officially
?” He opened his eyes and looked at them with a humorless grin.

Alexa frowned. “What do you mean?”

Harvey leaned forward, his chair creaking beneath his hefty frame. “Your fingerprints were classified. I need to subpoena the FBI to get them.” He blinked twice. “So whom do you represent? FBI? CIA?”

Alexa slipped an ID badge from her purse and handed it to the man. “Interpol.”

He examined it closely. He looked up over the badge to Alexa and studied her face. His gaze drifted to Neil. “And you?”
 

Neil shrugged. “Same.”

Harvey motioned with his hands that he wanted proof. Neil sighed and handed him his ID.
 

Harvey nodded and punched a number into the phone on his desk. He slipped his forefinger between his collar and neck and pulled it open. “Is it hot in here or what?”
 

Neil shrugged. Alexa rubbed her arms.

He swung the chair around, sitting with his back to them. He greeted someone and read back the badge numbers. He listened to the response as he swiveled back to face them, nodded his head, and placed the phone back on the receiver. He slid the badges back to them, leaned back into his chair with a sigh, and shook his head. “You never thought of imparting this information before you were arrested?”

Alexa stared blankly at the man. “No one questioned our authority, they simply judged our actions.”

He closed his eyes. His eyebrows twitched. “Do you realize that I have just arrested a member of Interpol, an organization that has political immunity and the full cooperation of the US government?” he asked, looking up at the ceiling.

Alexa and Neil looked at each other and then up at the ceiling. White, like it had been painted yesterday.

Harvey continued his conversation with the upper interior surface of the room. “Do you realize that I could be fired for not cooperating with you?” He now leaned forward, still not speaking to them directly.

“Why are you in my station?” Harvey asked to no one in particular.

Neil leaned forward. “We’re here looking for two men who went missing a couple of days ago.”

The deputy sighed. “So open a missing persons.” He lifted his hand, palm-up, indifferently. “We’ll have it checked out.”

Neil shook his head. “They were last seen with you, Deputy. Two French men.” He leaned back in his chair. “Bis Latorre, blonde, blue eyes, six foot five.”
 

Harvey nodded. “And the other guy?”

“Reg Voelkner, dark hair, brown eyes, skinny, five nine.”

The deputy crossed his arms. “Yes. I don’t remember their names, but they were taken in for the same thing as Miss Guerra over here.” He looked up at the ceiling, recalling the incident. “It was a big deal making the arrest; they knocked out three of my men before we managed to tase and arrest them.” He leaned back in his chair. It squeaked softly as he rocked back and forth. “They slept their stupor off, and I dropped them at the town limits.”

“Entering or exiting?” Neil asked.

“At the far end of town, on the way out, close to the suburbs.” Harvey raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. “Who were they?” he asked.

“Interpol as well.”

Harvey’s jaw dropped. “Damn it! There you’ve gone and made me do it again.” He flew up from his chair and paced around the office, his hands behind his back. “You want to tell me that I’ve managed to arrest three members of Interpol in a shade under three days?” He slammed the table with a flat hand. “Lord, I beg of you.”

Harvey stared at them. “Why didn’t you come to me first?” he asked, blinking three times.

Alexa shrugged. “We reconnaissanced the area first. Someone didn’t like some of the questions that we happened to be asking.” She folded her arms and leaned back in the chair. “We would have come to you next.”

Harvey stopped his pacing and stood in front of the window, staring out with dazed eyes.

Neil cast Alexa a knowing glance. She silently mouthed the words “
Oh là là
” to him.

Harvey’s left shoulder twitched twice. He nodded as if making up his mind and turned around, looking at them intently. “I guess you have your own way of doing things.” A smile spread across his face. “It seems that my department has made an error of egregious proportions. Down here, it’s a common courtesy to greet your hosts first.”

Neil frowned. “Your hosts?”
 

Harvey grinned a yellowed-tooth smile. “But of course. Dabbort County would like to welcome you as our guests.” His voice was friendly. He stuck a hand out at Neil. “We are at your service.”
 

Alexa glanced at Neil uncertainly and then back at Harvey. “Okay, how about a good place to stay?” She shook the plump hand that Harvey stuck out in front of her. “I need to clean up and have a meal.”
 

Harvey nodded and hurried to his table. He took out a notepad from a drawer and scribbled something on it. “This is the best place in town. I dropped the Frenchies close by, at a bus stop.” He tore the note off and handed it to Alexa.

She took it. “Thanks. We’ll probably need to talk again.”

Harvey nodded vigorously, his jowls bouncing up and down on his reddened face. “But off course, Miss Guerra. You knock on my door anytime, you hear me now?”

The older man examined the matrix of numbers printed on the page in front of him. He scrolled his finger fifteen columns across and went down three rows.
 

“Why not start with Manhattan?” he whispered.

He waited for the voice prompt and punched the number on the sheet into his cell as requested. The metallic voice confirmed his selection, and he looked back up at the sheet. He punched in a second sequence of numbers and nodded as he heard the confirmation from the metallic voice. “System shutdown to commence in seven days.”

He nodded and sucked on his teeth as he disconnected the call.

Alexa parked the car beneath the shade of a green ash on the cobblestoned driveway of the Ocelot Inn. A flagstone walkway led up the hill to a large, three-story log building. A wooden signpost had been planted in a bed of lavender beside the walkway. A hand had been painted on it; the index finger pointed up the path with the word “RECEPTION” painted beneath it.
 

Alexa got out of the car and stretched. She noticed a curtain part slightly in a window in one of the rooms upstairs. Neil pulled his kit bag and her Rimowa rolling suitcase from the trunk, and they made their way along the flowered walkway to reception. Colorful red hibiscus and oxeye daisies were planted in raised beds to the side of the path.
 

A plump black lady sat behind the counter reading a copy of The Scientific American. A young girl stared up at them from behind the reception desk, her chin propped up on the counter. The woman hefted her bulky frame up from the chair and greeted them with a smile.
 

“We’ve howdied over the phone, but we ain’t shook yet.” She stuck out a chubby hand toward Neil. “My name is Pauline, but people around here call me Missy.”
 

She gave Alexa a motherly hug and held her at arm’s length, looking her up and down. “My, my, now ain’t you just a piddly ole thing?”
 

Alexa smiled. She had already taken a liking to the woman.

Missy insisted on carrying their bags to the room. The young girl followed behind Missy, tugging on the hem of her dress. Missy stopped in front of a door and unlocked it. The young girl gazed up at Neil, smiling shyly.

Neil knelt next to her. “What’s your name, little girl?” he asked.

She popped her thumb out of her mouth. “Mary-Lou, sir.” She popped her thumb back in. She had grey eyes. Her short dreadlocks, tied at the top with small colorful ribbons, stuck out from her head at crazy angles like needles on a pin cushion.

Missy patted the girls’ head. “Take no notice of my darling grandchild, mister. The engine’s running, but ain’t nobody driving.” She winked at Neil. “She won’t get in your way, not on my watch, no sir.” She pinched the child’s cheek, and Mary-Lou beamed up at her grandmother.

Neil stuck out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mary-Lou. You have a mighty fine name.”

The girl giggled, let go of Missy’s dress, and shook Neil’s hand. She didn’t let go.

“Now you all tell me if you need to fill some empty tummies, and Missy will whip up some vittles faster than shit passes through a goose.” She stood, watching them, her hand planted on her hip.

Neil laughed and Alexa couldn’t help but smile. She was hungry. “That would be excellent, Mrs. Missy. I am kind of starving.”

Missy hooked her arms into theirs and led them to the dining room. “You holler when you need anything at all.” She smiled at Alexa. “And just call me Missy.”
 

Alexa entered the dining room first. Three people sat at a table in a corner having an animated discussion. Their voices died down when they saw her. A man and a woman looked up and smiled at Missy. The third man sat with his back to them. He looked like the same cowboy that they had seen at the bar.

Missy’s body stiffened. “Get out,” she grunted and marched to their table. “Out, now.” She yanked the cowboy by his shoulder.

The cowboy stood up and headed toward the exit. He was tall, wiry, and walked with a comfortable, loping gait. He touched the brim of his hat and nodded as he passed them.

Missy strode back to their table, leaned in conspiratorially, and whispered. “Sorry about that. Mr. and Mrs. Beck are new in town.” She smiled awkwardly. “Wouldn’t want them to get mixed up with the wrong influences.”
 

She steered them to a table and they took their seats. “What would you folks like to drink?” Missy asked.

“Coffee, please,” Neil said.
 

Missy nodded. She looked at Alexa.

“I’ll have a Coke,” Alexa said.
 

“What kind?” Missy asked. “We have Coke, Sprite, Dr. Pepper, and Pepsi.”

Alexa frowned. “Um, Coke?”
 

Missy nodded. “Ain’t got no formal menu, as such. I’ll make lunch up with what’s in the fridge if that’s okay by you folks?” She didn’t wait for an answer and disappeared into the kitchen, dragging Mary-Lou behind her.