"Carabetta's here," Matt called out. "It's going to be a tight squeeze in some of those tunnels, but I think he'll make it."
Hal came in from the kitchen, a camera case looped over one arm and a shotgun nestled in the crook of the other. He was dressed for their expedition in black, as Matt had suggested, and was clearly keyed up. But if he was the least bit frightened or tense, he hid it well. Knowing his uncle's sense of adventure, Matt wasn't at all surprised.
"And Freddy makes four," Hal said cheerily. "Our security man should be along soon. With whatever weapon he's bringing, plus old Hawk-Eye here, plus the handgun you have, we should at least be better prepared than you were when you and Lewis Slocumb waltzed in unarmed."
"Believe me, I am much more competent at running than shooting anyway. Hopefully, though, nothing's going to happen. It was just a fluke that the guards happened to be making their rounds when they did. They waltzed into the cave with no idea we were there. We'll just stay alert tonight. There isn't going to be any trouble."
"I expect not," Hal said. "You feel pretty sure you can get us in
there?"
"I was paying really close attention on the way in. You'll have to trust me on that. After what happened to Lewis, I just don't feel right involving the Slocumbs again, even though I think one of the other brothers would come if I asked. They've done enough. It's really a miracle Lewis is still alive." If he is still alive.
Carabetta knocked on the front door and was let in. He looked slightly ridiculous in a black pullover and watch cap, but he did have a rather sophisticated Pentax slung over his shoulder, as well as a narrow leather case that Matt suspected contained sampling gear. From the moment the OSHA official stepped through the door, he looked uncomfortable.
"Greetings, Freddy," Hal said. "Are you ready to become Numero Uno at that agency of yours?"
"I'm not certain this is such a good idea," Carabetta said. "What's the gun for?"
"We want to be prepared for any situation," Hal explained. "I don't expect any problems. But if there are, at least we'll be able to negotiate from strength."
"That shotgun is strength?"
"Actually, we have another man coming with us — a professional protector, if you will. Believe me, Fred, there's nothing to worry
about."
"Go in, observe, maybe bottle some samples of the material, and get out. That's all we want from you," Matt said.
"I… I need to talk to you, Hal — in private," Carabetta said.
"Talk to me," Matt said firmly, sensing he knew now what the man was about. "This is my project. Come on, let's go someplace quiet."
"The master suite is fine," Hal said.
Heidi, Hal's significant other, was off visiting her mother for a week. Matt led Carabetta to the expansive suite, which featured a lush sitting area, a beamed cathedral ceiling, and a panoramic window overlooking the lake. He could see Carabetta staring into the master bath, which included a rock wall waterfall that cascaded into a large hot tub. The kids' college tuitions I never had to spend was the way Hal explained the spectacular bedroom. Matt could read Carabetta's thoughts.
More.
"Okay," he said, "what's the deal?"
Carabetta pulled himself up straight and met Matt's gaze defiantly.
"The deal is, this whole affair is way more complicated than I was originally led to believe. And now there are guns and… and bodyguards, and security people who may or may not show up while we're there."
"And?"
"And I don't think what I'm being paid is worth the risk."
Matt suppressed an explosion. Without Carabetta, they really had nothing.
"How much?" he asked.
Carabetta again peered through the bathroom door.
"Another five thousand," he said quickly.
Matt had not been told specifically what the original deal with Hal was, but something his uncle said had him thinking it was around fifteen. Now Carabetta wanted five more. Twenty thousand — not a bad night's work. Matt flashed on his own anemic bank account, which could handle a five-thousand-dollar ding, but only just. Then he flashed on Armand Stevenson, and Elaine LeBlanc, and Don't-Call-Me-Bob Crook, and the security men who had rousted him from the mine offices and then attempted to eliminate the Slocumbs, and finally, on Bill Grimes.
"Five thousand and not another penny after that," he said.
"I expect to be paid first thing tomorrow. No money, no action from me regardless of what we find tonight," Carabetta countered.
You are really a credit to your profession, Matt wanted to say. "You'll get your money," he said instead.
They returned to the living room where, with a minute nod, Matt indicated to Hal that the deal was done. He then motioned Nikki into the privacy of the hallway, where he held her for a time, then kissed her lightly on the mouth.
"Thanks," she said. "I was just thinking that it's been too long. So, how much did Carabetta try and gouge you for?"
"He didn't just try," Matt replied. "The man is really a sleazebag."
"But a well-placed sleazebag, at least for our purposes."
"Keep reminding me. How're you feeling about all this?"
"Nervous, maybe a little scared. What about you?"
"More angry than anything else, I think — for my dad, for all those other miners, for all the humiliation I've had to endure for just trying to do the right thing. Listen," he went on, clearly searching for the right words, "there's really no reason you can't wait here until we get back."
"You mean just hang out on the couch and watch Home Shopping Network while you men tromp off to even the score with the people at the mine and maybe the man who kidnapped me and killed Joe? Now, doesn't that just sound like an opportunity I'd jump at?"
"I just — "
"You just kissed me," Nikki cut in. "That means I'm going. Plus I want to make certain you come through this in one piece. You and I have some unfinished business when all this is over."
Despite the beauty and sensual comforts of Hal's home, Joe Keller's terrible death was still too raw. They had spent the night in each other's arms, talking and touching and knowing that soon, very soon, they would be lovers. Matt's kiss this time was much less inhibited. Nikki dug her nails into the nape of his neck as she responded.
"We'll do fine," she whispered as they drew away from each other. "We'll do just fine."
Minutes later, a pair of headlight beams lanced through the darkness of Hal's driveway.
"This must be our protector," Matt said, gesturing out the window. "How did you find him, anyway, Unk?"
"I know you think of me as lily-pure and without fault," Hal replied, "but the truth is that after spending much of my life around here, I know a few people. Just as you have your strange little connections around the valley, I have mine. I spoke to a friend with knowledge of such matters. He agreed to arrange for what we needed, and a few hours later, this is the man who called me."
"What better recommendation could anyone get than that?" Matt said. "Do you even know his name?"
"I will soon enough. Remember, nephew, we are not hiring this gentleman to prune our rhododendrons."
"I gotcha."
The twin raps on the front door were like pistol shots — magnitudes louder than Carabetta's had been. Hal swung the door back, revealing a man whose shoulders nearly filled the span and whose massive head barely cleared the overhead frame. The man nodded a greeting and stepped into the room. His impressive head and flat, pinched face reminded Matt of a villain in a Dick Tracy cartoon. There was a rather large bruise and healing abrasion over his right eye, and a square Band-Aid patch covering some sort of wound on his left cheek.