David Rosenfelt - Airtight

Julie Somers was not used to feeling helpless.

It wasn’t her style to just sit back and watch events unfold. It’s why she went into the public defender’s office after graduating from law school; she always wanted to be where the action was.

After a couple of years, she decided she wanted to be on the right side of the action, so she moved over to the prosecutor side. It’s not that she didn’t believe all defendants were entitled to excellent representation. She just got worn down from the belief that the majority of her clients were in fact guilty of the crimes with which they were charged.

She wanted to win; she was as competitive as anyone. But she wanted to feel good when she won, and that was not often the case as a defense attorney. So she switched sides, and hasn’t looked back. In her new role, she controlled the action. She called the shots, and was on offense rather than defense. Just the way she liked it.

Bryan’s kidnapping left her in the exact opposite position. Except for finding out some information for Luke when he requested it, she was sitting on the sidelines and waiting for him to update her.

She loved Bryan and always would; whether or not she could still live with him as his wife was an entirely separate issue. She also felt guilt over having somehow caused the current situation. She was the reason that Bryan was at Luke’s that night, when Gallagher showed up.

She still agreed with Luke’s decision to not call in Federal authorities to go after Gallagher. She and Luke had access to the same information that they would have, but they had different goals. The Feds would have shared their desire to get Bryan back unharmed, but would have gone after Gallagher as well. Julie and Luke simply did not feel that was the best approach towards keeping Bryan alive.

But she knew one thing; if anything happened to Bryan, Gallagher was going down. She wouldn’t rest until that happened, though she knew it wouldn’t be easy. From what she had read about him, Gallagher was as good as they come at the art of survival. He was trained in living off the land, and could probably melt into some undeveloped area and never be found.

So she called Lou Rodriguez, an investigator she had frequently employed while on the defense side of the system. Rodriquez was smart, tough and reliable, and better than anyone she had used since moving to the prosecutor’s office. Now, whenever she opposed him, she found herself cringing at what he might find.

She asked Rodriguez to meet her away from the office, and they had coffee at a diner near the courthouse. “I need to hire you,” she said.

He was surprised; prosecutors had no need to go outside to get investigative help. “What about that army you’ve got working for you, Jules?”

He always called her “Jules,” and was the only one to do so. She had no idea why, but sort of liked it. “I meant personally.”

“Personal issues? Jules, you know how I feel about you, but-”

She cut him off. “It’s not that.” Rodriguez took pride in never working on cases involving marital problems. Getting pictures of husbands with other women was simply not his thing. “It’s not on the same planet as that, but it does involve Bryan.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Tell me about it.”

So she did, after first soliciting his promise that whatever she said would remain confidential. After describing the situation in as much detail as she knew, including the progress Luke had been making, she said, “I want you to follow Gallagher. If things don’t go well…” She stopped to compose herself. “If things don’t go well, I want to know where he is, and how to pick him up.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’m in.”

She exhaled in relief. “Great. Thanks, Lou. Just bill me at your normal rate.”

He shook his head. “This one’s on the house; you’ve done enough for me. Any idea how I find him?”

“It shouldn’t be hard. He spends some time following Luke, and even shows up at Luke’s house sometimes, mostly at night. He’s not worried, because he knows Bryan is his trump card.”

“I’ll start tonight.”

She gave him a folder with copies of all the information she had. “I’m having dinner with Luke at Morelli’s tonight at seven. Maybe he’ll follow him there.”

“I’m on it,” he said. “Just one question, Jules.”

“What’s that?”

“It doesn’t matter, but I’m curious … did Gallagher’s brother do Brennan?”

She thought for a moment. “I’ll know more tonight, but gut instinct? I don’t think so.”

No surprises, Bryan … I promise. I’m meeting Julie tonight, to tell her what’s going on. It’s driving her crazy to just sit and wait. I guess you know the feeling. Anything you want me to tell her?

I’m proud of the way you’re holding up, little brother.

Michael Oliver would have preferred being anywhere but Brayton.

He had last been there when he studied the land that his employer, Hanson Oil and Gas, was considering buying. He had recorded all the data, taken all the pictures and measurements, and gone back to Tulsa to analyze the information and write his report.

It was that report that convinced Hanson to make the purchase, and which in effect started the entire controversy. Hanson had great confidence in their chief engineer. Once Oliver said there were huge amounts of natural gas to be gotten efficiently from the shale under the ground, they relied on it without question.

Now that the purchase had just been finally approved by the courts, Oliver was brought into town for meetings with the engineers who would conduct the actual fracking process. Some of the equipment was still in place from when the tests were conducted, and the drilling that had been done put them ahead of the game.

But for all the violence that critics said the fracking did to the environment, it needed to be done with some care, almost delicacy. Mistakes could be costly, in both time and money. And despite what the citizens of Brayton claimed, the engineers also were concerned about the environmental impact. Everyone in that room, except Oliver, had children of their own, so they understood.

Oliver laid it all out for them, providing a road map for what they were going to find underground. They met for six hours, and he assured them he would be available by phone and computer back in Tulsa to answer any further questions they might have.

Oliver couldn’t wait to get back home, but felt compelled to accept the invitation of the executive in charge of the project to have dinner that evening. It would be an early one, and Oliver would get a late flight to Chicago afterwards. He’d stay overnight there, and get a short flight to Tulsa in the morning. It was not ideal, but anything was better than staying in Brayton.

When he arrived the previous evening, he had made the mistake of turning on CNN in the hotel and watching the interview with Edward Holland. The situation was dangerous, or at least Holland made it sound like it was. The only saving grace for Oliver was that he was anonymous; there was no way that anyone in Brayton knew who he was, or what his crucial role in the situation had been.

After the meetings he went back to the hotel and packed, putting his one bag into his rental car and heading for the restaurant. It was a Japanese steak house in Central Valley, one of those places where they cook for you right at the table. There were six of them there, the executive, four senior engineers, and Oliver.

His dinner companions were in a great mood, but all Oliver was focused on was getting out and on that plane. The only good thing about the dinner was that it was not in Brayton; Oliver was out of there and would never be back.