“Modesty, or Destiny as she reinvented herself, tried to remove herself from a situation far more concerning than being raised within the confines of The Grove. As we know, treachery happens when seeking wealth.”
“Yes, sir.”
“As it happens, this case has some ties to your social activities this week. You will be attending Christen Davidson’s wedding.”
I pushed to sitting.
“The Hydra includes Sylanos, who owns many ships from the times when he engaged in software pirating. And some Assembly men, since the data dump that sent many into hiding and others into prison, have sought a new relationship with Sylanos to engage in a new way to rob Uncle Sam’s pockets.”
“Christen’s dad, William Davidson?” I curled back into Striker, who held me close.
“While William Davidson walks a fine line between the criminal and the innocent, it is his son who displays the black heart.”
“Karl,” Striker said.
“Exactly.” Spyder laced his fingers, steepling his index fingers, and pressing them into his chin.
“So Karl is into energy monies, especially around fossil fuels and natural gasses,” I said, thinking back to the debacle where Gator and Christen had met last July. “including helium.”
“Exactly.”
“And this goes together with The Grove and Modesty Blackburn?” I asked.
“Indeed. Allow me to explain. A little history first. In the 1970s, well before you were born, there was a petroleum crisis. It was quite disruptive to America. There were long gas lines, and drivers were only allowed to fill up their cars on certain days.”
“I studied that.” I nodded.
“As a response to our dependence on foreign oil, the U.S. government thought that it would be wise to mandate the use of biofuels, those made from soy and corn oils, for example.”
My brows pulled together with concentration.
“The science of creating biofuels has a place in understanding the current crimes. Vegetable oils and oils taken from restaurants cooking vats—for example, from your beloved Burger Go! restaurant.” Spyder sent me a wide smile. “All of these oils are high in triglycerides. To make them useable in vehicles, one mixes the vegetable oils with an alcohol such as methanol as the beginning of the transformative process. This is very expensive to perform.”
“Okay.”
“And as you well know, our planet is facing an emerging catastrophic state due to the levels of carbon monoxide in the air, among other issues.”
“Yes.”
“To try to combat this, and here is the crux of the issue, Congress decided to subsidize the biofuel market by creating billions of dollars in incentives.”
I scowled. I could see how Karl Davidson would both be knowledgeable about such subsidies and have the Assembly help manipulate things behind the scenes. But The Grove and Modesty?
“B100 is the name of the fuel stage where the vegetable oil has been treated with some form of alcohol. A step in the process of being able to use the fuel in our vehicles. Those who produce B100 are compensated by the government.”
Striker and I nodded.
“In order to claim subsidy money, every gallon of B100 that is produced is provided with a specific number so that it might be tracked. Big oil producers, such as the Davidsons, are required to buy biofuel. They are supposed to mix the B100 with diesel to make B99.”
“I’m following. Sort of. The Grove? They’re in California near Hollywood.”
“Patience, Lexicon. One must take all of the steps on the path to proceed without mishap.”
“Yes, sir.” I shifted against Striker, and he rubbed his hand up and down my arm, which helped me calm my impatience.
“A gallon of B99 creates a dollar in tax credit, which is paid directly from the IRS. Skipping to our friends in California. Barnabas Blackburn was welcomed back to The Grove and offered the first of his wives when he came up with the scheme of producing B99. Even with the enormous governmental incentives, he was barely breaking even.”
“I’d imagine shipping costs were eating into his bottom line. He’d have to ship the oil from the mid-west, right?”
“Precisely. One would have to do that to be legitimate.”
“Ah.”
“From what information I was able to glean, Karl Davidson approached Blackburn with a deal that included Sylanos.”
“Selling your soul to the devil,” I muttered under my breath.
“If one believes that such an entity exists.” Another broad smile. “Barnabas Blackburn, who was Modesty Blackburn’s uncle, agreed to work with the Hydra. And it was quite lucrative for him and those who lived at The Grove. He brought in millions, which meant that many eyes followed him and became curious. This is especially so as The Grove is protected from taxes and other requirements as The Grove claims to be a religious order.”
At the mention of Modesty, I needed a moment. Holding up a “please pause” finger, I asked, “Can I get anyone anything in the kitchen? I need a cup of tea. My throat.”
Both men shook their heads.
I had called Striker from the SUV on the way home from being cleared at the hospital. Jack and I updated him about the status of the mission, the apprehensions. It seemed like Striker had decided not to be a mother hen. He said nothing to my throat comment.
I was glad to have a long moment while the microwave heated the water. But having dunked in a tea bag, it was time to hear the reason behind Modesty’s murder.
“Are you ready?” Spyder asked.
I curled back into my place under Striker’s arm, pressed up against his chest, my tea mug balanced
