Gray Mountain

“No. Let’s go!”

Jeff turned on the lights and they were moving again, much faster now, and were soon on a paved county road. The fear was fading, replaced by a bit of relief. Each mile took them farther away, they thought. Five minutes passed without a word. Vic was texting away, his rifle still in his lap.

Finally, Jeff calmly asked her, “Why did you leave the cabin?”

“Because I heard gunshots, and I thought I heard someone scream. I thought you were hurt, so I panicked and went to the trail.”

“What the hell were the gunshots?” Vic thundered from the backseat.

Jeff began laughing and was quite amused with himself. He said, “Well, I was racing through the woods, pitch-black, you know, and I ran into a black bear. A big one. They’re hibernating this time of the year so they’re practically brain-dead. This guy wasn’t moving too quick, but he was irritated anyway. Figures it’s his neck of the woods, you know, so he takes offense at getting run over by a trespasser. We had words, he wouldn’t move, I had no choice but to shoot him.”

“You shot the bear?”

“Yes, Samantha, I also shot a human, though I suspect he’s okay.”

“Aren’t you worried about the police?”

Vic laughed loudly as he cracked a window and lit a cigarette.

“No smoking in here,” Jeff said.

“Sure, sure.”

Jeff glanced at Samantha and said, “No, dear, I’m not worried about the police or sheriff or anyone else, not for shooting an armed thug who was stalking me on my own property. This is Appalachia. No cop will investigate, and no prosecutor will prosecute because no jury will ever convict.”

“What will happen to the guy?”

“I guess he’ll have a sore leg. He’s lucky. The bullet could have hit him between the eyes.”

“Spoken like a true sniper.”

Vic said, “He’ll show up in an emergency room with a tall tale. Did you get everything?”

“Every piece of paper. Every scrap so skillfully confiscated by my dear brother.”

“Donovan would be proud of us,” Vic said.

In the town of Big Stone Gap, they turned in to a Taco Bell and waited in the drive-thru. Jeff ordered a sack of food with drinks, and as he was paying Vic opened the door and got out. He said, “We’re headed to Bristol.” Jeff nodded as if that was expected. He watched closely as Vic opened the door to his pickup, a truck Samantha recognized from her excursion into Hammer Valley with Donovan.

She said, “Okay, what are we doing now?”

“He’ll follow us to Bristol and watch our tail. He also has the documents we hauled out last Saturday, the first batch.”

“I thought you said Vic has a pregnant girlfriend and wanted no part of this.”

“It’s true. She is pregnant, but they got married a week ago. You want a taco?”

“I want a martini.”

“I doubt if you can find a good one around here.”

“What, may I ask, is in Bristol?”

“An airport. Beyond that, if I tell you then I’ll have to kill you.”

“You’re on a rampage, go ahead.”

The aroma hit them, and they were suddenly starving.

There were only five airplanes parked on the general aviation ramp at the Tri-Cities Regional Airport near Bristol, Te

One of the three men said to Jeff, “Mr. London would like to see you.” Vic shrugged and said, “Oh why not? Let’s check out his little toy.”

“I’ve actually flown on it,” Jeff said. “It’s a step up from the Skyhawk.”

“Well aren’t you the big shot,” Vic snarled.

They were led through the empty terminal, onto the ramp, and to the jet. Jarrett London was waiting at the top of the stairs with a huge smile and a drink in hand. He waved them up and welcomed them to his “second home.”

Samantha had a friend at Georgetown whose family owned a jet, so this was not her first glimpse at one. The massive chairs were covered in deep, rich leathers. Everything was trimmed in gold plate. They sat around a table while a flight attendant took their drink orders. Just take me to Paris, Samantha wanted to say. And come get me in a month.

It was clear that Vic and London knew each other well. As Jeff gave the details of their escape from Gray Mountain, the drinks were served. “Would you like di

“Oh no, Jeff treated me to Taco Bell. I’m stuffed.”

Her martini was perfect. Jeff and Vic had Dickel on the rocks. London explained that the documents would be flown right then to Cinci

“Do we have friends in Washington to thank for this, Samantha?” London asked.

She smiled and said, “Perhaps. I’m not sure.”

He took a sip, rattled his cubes, and said, “What are your plans now?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, it would be nice to have another lawyer on the ground in the Krull case. You’re obviously familiar with it. Donovan trusted you, and his firm is still in the hunt for some serious money. There’s a fifty-fifty chance Krull will surrender when they learn we have the documents. A settlement is not unlikely, albeit a confidential one. If they play hardball, then we crank it up and push for a trial. Frankly, that’s what we want—a spectacle, a grand exposé, a two-month-long production in which all of the bad stuff gets hashed out in open court. Then, a spectacular verdict.”

Shades of Donovan. Shades of Marshall Kofer.

He was on a roll: “There’s plenty of work for all of us, including you, Samantha. You could join my firm in Louisville. You could hang out your shingle in Brady. You could take Donovan’s office. A lot of options. My point is, we need you.”

“Thanks, Mr. London,” she said properly, then knocked back another gulp. She was on the spot and didn’t like it.

Vic sensed this and changed the subject by quizzing him about the jet. A Gulfstream V, the latest marvel. Virtually unlimited range and so on, cruises at forty thousand, far above the airlines. Very quiet way up there. As the conversation lost steam, London glanced at his watch and asked, “Could I drop you guys off somewhere?”

Ah, the perks of a private jet. Drop-offs here, pickups there. Anything’s possible.

They declined and said they had places to go. He thanked them profusely for delivering the documents and walked them back to the terminal.

40

Mattie arrived earlier on Monday, and they huddled in her office with the door closed. Samantha reported that the documents had been delivered, somewhat safely, and that if all went as pla

At any rate, the documents were now in safer hands, where they could be fought over by other lawyers. Somebody else would make sense of them. Samantha speculated that the FBI was now on the sidelines. There was even a hint that the investigation might turn 180 degrees and begin probing into the actions of Krull Mining. Nothing definite as of yet, just a word or two out of Washington.