Tainted Mountain by Shannon Baker

easy to manipulate. Now that her husband was gone, she’d need strong guidance. Who better than a wealthy mentor? She shouldn’t pose much trouble.
    And the Hopi had agreed to recommend mining on their lands, but he couldn’t count on them absolutely until their X was on the line.
    â€œBarrett.” Cole Huntsman’s voice startled him out of his plans.
    â€œJesus.” He had a meeting and he’d completely forgotten about it. I must be losing my fucking mind. He never used to forget anything.
    Barrett rose from the desk and waved Cole in. “Just finishing an overseas call.”
    â€œThought it might be something like that when no one answered the door. Hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.” Cole had a country bumpkin face that made him look harmless. It didn’t fool Barrett.
    â€œGlad you did,” Barrett said. “I’ve been working on our testimonies for the hearing.”
    One eyebrow arched on Cole’s forehead. “Our testimonies? I figured on speaking for myself.”
    â€œOf course. These are just some thoughts to coordinate our message.”
    â€œRight.” That sincere drawl and perpetually friendly face would play nicely at the hearings.
    Barrett picked up a stack of papers from his desk and handed them to Cole. He lowered himself back into his chair. “Sit down and we’ll get to work.”
    Cole took the papers and wandered over to the window, his eyes on Kachina Mountain. He acted as if he had all the time in the world, like he operated on Navajo time. Cowboys and Indians—with their disregard for time, it was a wonder the West was ever settled.
    Cole glanced at the pages Barrett prepared for the hearing. “Releasing those claims might be a tough sell to the committee.”
    Another shovelful of coal was added to his heartburn. Goddamned Interior Department withdrawing lands he needed for expansion of uranium mining. “That’s why we’ve got to coordinate our efforts.”
    Cole nodded. “Be easier if we had a champion.”
    Barrett could ease Cole’s mind by telling him about a guaranteed vote or two, assured by Barrett’s behind-the-scenes tactics. But the less Cole—or anyone else—knew about that, the safer for Barrett.
    Cole read silently for a moment. “What do you know about a Charlie Podanski?”
    Barrett’s neck hairs bristled. “He’s a kook. Why?”
    Cole shrugged. “I hear he’s a radical and can disrupt things like hearings. And that he doesn’t like you. Is there anything he can use against you in this?”
    Despite himself, Barrett laughed. “He’s past his prime. Keep tabs on him, but I doubt he’ll amount to much.”
    Cole didn’t seem to mind chunks of silence in a meeting. Finally, he said, “I’ve got a concern about the groundwater.”
    Barrett’s balls sucked into his belly. “Groundwater? How so?”
    Cole continued to look at the mountain.
    Does he know something? Impossible. Does he suspect?
    â€œI’m not convinced about the stability of the breccia pipe formation. Even with the in situ method, there is risk of crumbling and some of the debris leaking into the groundwater. I’m wondering if anyone on the other side will challenge it.”
    Barrett leaned back in his chair, the well-oiled springs silent. “This has all been researched. Hell, you did most of it yourself.”
    The shaggy head nodded. “Might be something I missed someone else caught.” Cole moved in slow motion to a leather Morris recliner and sat. He slouched, his long legs stretched in front of him. “When’s the last time you logged the water? Wouldn’t mind updating our records.”
    No one needed to find what Abbott’s logs revealed. “We’ve got surveys up the ass, most of which you conducted, that say mining uranium up here is perfectly safe. We had functioning test