Soundkeeper by Michael Hervey Page B

sweating in the summer sun, the railroad ties bled chemicals into the earth for decades. The warehouse that replaced the sawmill when it closed wasn’t required to submit to the stricter residential environmental standards since it was zoned as an industrial site. When Mark Lancaster petitioned for a zoning variance, the soil and water had to be tested and his world came crashing down around him.
    Sitting in his construction trailer one night, crying in his wine over an artist’s renditions of his condos, he heard a noise outside. Peering into the darkness he saw two men wrestle a heavy box out of the trunk of a car and begin to beat on it with something. Emboldened by more than a few glasses of Chardonnay, he grabbed his pistol and a flashlight and met Arnold and Blondie who were trying to break into a safe. As drunk and despondent people often do, Mark Lancaster soon poured out his troubles to the two strangers. Soon a proposal was offered and accepted.
    The State of South Carolina was responsible for testing the soil, and Beaufort County was responsible for certifying that the groundwater was free from contamination. Mark Lancaster had bribed the county inspector during the development of two other properties. One phone call and a twenty-thousand dollar payment cleared that hurdle once again.
    But the state inspector was a prick with principles and couldn’t be bribed. A company approved by the EPA wanted over two-hundred thousand dollars to remove and properly dispose of the tainted earth, more than Mark Lancaster could afford. Arnold and Blondie promised to get rid of the dirt for fifty grand, and the deal was struck.
    The envelope Mark Lancaster handed to Blondie contained ten-thousand dollars and the key to a dump truck that was sitting outside. Mark Lancaster would drive Blondie’s car back to his hotel while Blondie did whatever he did with the load of bad dirt. Mark Lancaster didn’t care.
    “It’s going to cost a little more than I figured,” Blondie said as he took the money.
    “What do you mean?” he whispered. “We had a deal.”
    “Maybe you want to get an estimate from someone else to finish the job? I’ve removed ten truck loads so far and it looks like it will take ten more to get it all out of there.”
    Blondie gave Mark a look that chilled him to the bone. Mark had seen his violent streak once before when he pulled a switchblade on Arnold and threatened to cut his balls off for flirting with his favorite dancer. Ever since then Blondie came to their meetings alone.
    “Day after tomorrow, same time. Bring another ten grand.”
    Mark Lancaster started to protest but realized it wouldn’t do him much good. A girl with big boobs and lots of curly blonde hair climbed on top of their table and started grinding her hips to the heavy metal music blaring from the speakers. Blondie took a hundred dollar bill from the envelope and stuffed it into her g-string until it disappeared. Mark Lancaster left the bar, drove Blondie’s old Trans Am to the motel, and caught a taxi home.

Chapter Thirteen
    He was suffocating. Each breath became harder and harder until the struggle to breathe woke him fully. Through half opened eyes Hall realized Belker was sitting on his chest and staring at him. He hoped the puppy could control his bladder for a few more seconds.
    The pup scampered outside and disappeared behind a tangle of marsh elders. Hall walked out on the weathered wooden dock and checked the lines that secured his boat. The tide could rise and fall over ten feet in a thirteen hour period, and it took a good deal of thought to secure a boat properly. The challenge was to tie the boat loosely enough that the rising water didn’t swamp the boat and the falling water didn’t leave it suspended above the water.
    The boat was fine, and when he gazed out over the water he thought about Gale Pickens. He knew she was an outstanding sailor and these were her waters. The small thunderstorm the previous night