13
The iridescent green of the alarm showed 3:00 A.M., and the sound of the bathroom fan reminded Dan that he had gone to sleep listening to its comforting hum. He got out of bed, went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, where he got a beer on his way to the den. There was by now an even greater clutter of maps, news clippings, and lists. The bulletin boards were full of scribbles. But nobody, not he, Maria, nor the sheriff, was making any real progress.
Although it was another long shot he had learned that Corey Schneider was indeed a single woman, thirty-six years of age. Interestingly, she was an environmental activist, although in these parts that wasn't unusual. Maria knew who she was and commented that she was a loner, an extremist, and weird. Two years ago she and Maria had gotten into a screaming match over invading a congressman's field office and chaining themselves to furniture, but Maria was certain it wasn't this woman who had robbed them. Robbery and political statements were two different matters.
Dan had been lobbying for Maria to have someone call this woman, perhaps the fund-raiser person at Wildflower who knew Schneider as someone who was wealthy, occasionally gave money, and often wanted information. He was determined to discover whether Schneider had an explanation for her whereabouts on the day of the robbery.
The other clue that he had done nothing about was the helicopter. In northern California timber companies, public utilities, or the government usually owned the jet helicopters. Amada had one, but he had never seen it. Perhaps a look would give him a clue as to whether the copter that emitted the radio signal belonged to Amada. One easy way to see the chopper was to fly over the compound. But there was a much more compelling reason to do that, and that was in preparation for another trip inside. Something was going on behind that fence. Somehow it all related to the missing money, the break-in at his house, and the guys who almost killed them on the road.
Dan wanted to do the flyover next Sunday morning at daybreak. He had a growing certainty that the all-white unmarked helicopter had emitted a radio signal precisely because it contained the missing money. It also followed that if it had been landing it would have come down on the pad near the compound.
If it was the same aircraft, it would further link the compound and Amada with the missing $500,000. That information plus what he might discover on a second trip inside would perhaps help convince Jeb Otran and Hutchin that Amada and their compound were not as benign as they claimed. And it would get him one step closer to the men who had invaded his home. His fingers tapped nervously on his knee. There was no way that he could not tell Maria, especially since she was back in town. Obviously, she would want to come along for the flight. That was a complicating factor because a contract logger by the name of Anderson was harvesting Otran's land immediately adjoining the Highlands. So far, it seemed that his preparations were undiscovered by the enviros. By commencing on a weekend, Anderson hoped to get a jump on any court order the enviros might obtain. If the enviros had known about this cutting in the old growth immediately adjoining the Highlands, they would have sought a court order before the weekend-they still might. So by flying Maria around the area, he was potentially inviting a Monday- morning court appearance for an emergency temporary injunction. It would look really odd if the Wildflower Coalition discovered Anderson's harvesting on Otran's land while flying around with him.
Dan knew he could wait until another day, after she found out about Anderson's harvesting another way. Or he could just go without her-without saying anything-but she would be furious. Tortured by indecision, he picked up the phone and called the Palmer Inn.
'Hello,' the sleepy voice answered.
'This is the Republican Central Committee and we would like to know if for a mere three hundred dollars you would like to join the Voice of Congress Club.'
'It's almost four in the morning,' she said. Then in a more good-natured tone: 'It must be awfully important. Either that or you're drunk.'
'It's important. I want to take a plane over the Amada compound on Sunday and look at that helicopter to see if it might be the one that emitted the signal.'
'You sure that's the reason you want to fly over the compound?'
'Uh-huh.'
'Dan, you're not back on your idea of going in there?'
'It's just a consideration.'
'Your boss and your client said no. It's stupid. You heard that guy on the phone. You could get killed.'
'Maria?'
'Yes?'
'It means a lot to me that you're open-minded about this.'
'Damn you.'
Dan chuckled. ''It's important to me to see that chopper.' He said it warmly in a confident basso.
'I have meetings Sunday morning. Important meetings.'
'I know. And you should attend them-'
'What's that mean?'
'It means I'd like to go alone.'
'I liked you better as the Republican Central Committee. I'm going. What time does the plane take off?'
'I want to go at six a.m. I don't know when I'll be back.'
'Call me when you get the exact departure time.'
''What about the chemist and the bat guy? You mentioned that Patty McCafferty was working on it.'
''She is. I'd like to go in person and talk to these people.'
'How about the Corey Schneider gal?'
'I talked with the fund-raiser and got her to call Schneider.'
'So what did she say: 'Where were you on the morning of June fifteenth?''
'No, no. They got all cozy. Schneider offered a small donation. Small for Schneider at least. She likes to donate to the legal-defense fund for sit-in protesters that have been arrested. Anything in-your-face she likes.'
'So what happened?'
'Well, Penny gave her the inside scoop that we were supposed to get a big donation, but it never arrived. Penny said there was even a rumor that it was stolen by a woman. Then Penny said this: 'The only woman I know who would be gutsy enough to pull that off would be you.' There was a silence on the line, then Schneider said, 'Couldn't have been me because I was at the conference in Portland.' I checked and she was there. Several people saw her at the beginning and the end, and she was registered. So I'll see you at the plane, you just tell me when.'
Damn. Maybe they could somehow avoid flying over the area where Anderson was logging. With luck, they could fly low, straight to the compound.
Regrettably, Corey Schneider wasn't a whore. Oddly, Groiter had always been attracted to her.
Now as he sat looking at the wooded drive that led to her house, he thought carefully about his plan. It had amazed him that Corey's extended family had spoken with him so freely. But then it was a long time ago and she hadn't spoken to them in years.
The attorneys had become even more aggressive and were amassing quantities of information. Although he didn't admit it to Kenji, at this point no one really knew what they knew. Now they were going to fly over the compound taking pictures. Kenji had been furious about that. His failure to locate the device until just prior to landing the helicopter had been an incredible blunder, and Groiter knew it. Now was not the time to make a similar mistake.
He was driving a Mercedes with heavily tinted glass.
Taking his foot from the brake, he let the big car roll down the redwood-lined lane, until he came to a barely graveled and mostly overgrown side road. Turning off the motor, he coasted down it, listening to the barely audible sound of his tires crunching little stones and later the duff of the forest floor. He put on his full-face knit headpiece and donned a ski mask that left no hint of his hair or his skin revealed.
