She settled behind her desk and reached for her pen. “When did you see him last?”
“Three weeks ago. He was supposed to come home for some R & R yesterday, but he never showed up. I’ve called his phone countless times. I tried calling his best friend on the rig, and Mike said he didn’t show up to take the chopper off the platform. He hasn’t seen him since after breakfast on Saturday.”
Two days ago. “Did Mike report Keith missing to security or anyone?”
“He says he did, but I haven’t spoken to the rig manager myself. Mike talked to him and said that a search of the platform failed to find him.”
“They probably called the Coast Guard to help search.” She didn’t want to mention that a man lost at sea would be difficult to spot from the air or from a boat. Accidents on oil platforms happened all too frequently.
Ruby gave a jerky nod. “They’ve been searching the sea.” She wadded her hankie in a tight fist. “I know you’re wondering why I’m here.”
Jane wanted to show compassion, so she’d kept the question inside. “Well, finding a missing platform worker isn’t in my jurisdiction.”
Ruby’s eyes filled with tears again. “I think he might have been murdered.”
Jane stilled. “Why do you say that?”
“He sent me an email. I got it two days ago.” Ruby reached into her purse and pulled out a folded paper. “I printed it out. He said if anything happened to him that it wasn’t an accident.” She slid the paper across the desk to Jane.
Jane unfolded it and the words tumbled into her head.
Dear Mom,
I know this email is probably going to scare you, but I have to tell you something just in case. I stumbled across some information, and I’m not sure what to do about it. If something happens to me—if I come up missing or you’re told I died in an accident—go see Chief Hardy. I believe I’m in danger. I’ll try to get home and talk to her in person, but I’m not sure if I’ll make it or not.
I think an attack on the oil rig is being planned. Terrorists maybe, but I’m not sure who is behind the plot. I was in a storage room, and the door was open just a crack. I heard two guys talking about turning off security to let in a hacker. They said something about each of them coming away with a hundred thousand dollars. I didn’t recognize their voices, but it sounded like the real deal.
Since I’m a resident of Pelican Harbor, I thought Chief Hardy would be the one to talk to first. She can call in Homeland Security or whoever would be in charge of this kind of thing.
I hope I’m not putting you in danger by telling you all this. Be careful and stay safe. Love you!
Keith
Frowning, Jane put down the printout. “Has anyone else seen this?”
Ruby shook her head. “As soon as I talked to Mike, I came straight here. I didn’t mention the email to Mike. I don’t know who to trust.”
Jane didn’t, either, but she would have to figure it out. “I’ll need Mike’s full name and anyone else you know there I can contact.”
An oil spill would decimate the area. Lost wildlife, destroyed wetlands, lost jobs. She had to help.
Two
Zeus. Even the name of the oil platform looming about a mile from shore inspired awe as it rose from the pristine blue waters of the Gulf.
The crane on Zeus lowered a metal cage to the boat where Reid Dixon and his videographer, Elliot Hastings, waited. The boat captain steadied the cage as Reid stepped in and moved out of the way to let Elliot crowd in behind him with the gear. With the clang of the door closing, there was no backing out now, and the cage began to rise over the pelicans riding the whitecaps below.
Wind buffeted the cage, and Reid grabbed the bars with both hands as his stomach did a slow roll. It was like a roller coaster without the safety precautions, and he hated amusement parks.
Elliot’s blue eyes laughed at him. “Scared, boss?”
Twenty-five and single, Elliot never met a stranger. His blond curly hair touched his collar, and the youthful style made grandmotherly types nearly coo at him. Reid liked his can-do approach to anything he’d asked of him in the past three weeks since he’d been hired.
Reid forced an answering grin. “It’s like a zip line, right?”
Elliot squinted in the bright sunshine and pointed. “Dolphins. Wish we had time to swim with them.” He pulled his camera to his face and snapped off several shots. “Good backdrop for the article.”
This trip was going to be an hour-long documentary for Discovery Channel and had been instigated several weeks ago when he’d had a disturbing email from Keith McDonald, a crew member. The invitation to board the oil platform to investigate hadn’t been easy to obtain, but here he was soaring over the Gulf to the noisy, clanging platform above.
A burly guy with massive, tattoo-covered biceps snagged the metal cage. His grin revealed a gold tooth. “Got you, guv’nor.” His accent was all cockney without a hint of a Southern drawl.
Reid stumbled out of the cage and onto the more solid footing of the platform. He looked around as Elliot joined him. The platform vibrated under his new size-twelve steel-toed work boots, and the noise of the drills and other machinery, though muffled, was plenty loud. He’d done his homework before coming out here and knew Zeus weighed over a hundred million tons. It was forty stories high, and thick pipes tethered it to the seabed under the billowing waves. It was structured to withstand even the power of a hurricane like Katrina.
He peered through the metal grate to the water far below and felt a little dizzy.
The big guy stuck out a beefy hand. “Name’s Dex. I’m one of the deck pushers, and I drew the bloomin’ short straw to show you around.”
The deck pusher would know all the rig’s policies and safety procedures, and he would coordinate all the work done on deck including the crane operation.
Reid shook Dex’s hand. “Reid Dixon.”
“I’ve watched a few o’ your documentaries and like ’ow you cover both sides o’ things. What brings you to our platform?”
“Most people have never been aboard one of these monsters, and they hold a little bit of mystique. I thought viewers would like a peek inside such a difficult and dangerous job.”
“You sure you ain’t ’ere to see if we’re another Deepwater Horizon?” Though Dex’s tone remained friendly, his blue eyes narrowed.
Reid kept his smile in place. “Are you?”
“I’ll let you take a gander at all the safety measures we ’ave in place. You’ll be gobsmacked at all we’ve done ’ere.”
Elliot rubbed sanitizer on his hands, then began to shoot video. Reid looked around the deck. The Gulf couldn’t stand another hit like the last one.
Elliot signaled to him, and Reid started his dialogue for the documentary. “Located near here off the coast of Louisiana, Deepwater Horizon was the single greatest marine disaster in history. A year after it had sunk the deepest ever oil well, the rig exploded. The tragedy killed eleven crew members and ignited a firestorm that could be seen forty miles away. Still spewing oil, it sank two days later and continued to pump crude into the ocean. Nearly five million barrels fouled the Gulf by the time it was capped nearly three months later. The oil spoiled eleven hundred miles of beach in Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, and Florida. It was a catastrophe anyone alive here at the time would never forget. We’re here today to make sure this rig is safe.”