Reese sighed as he leaned back in the black leather chair behind his desk. The office was done in a modern motif with dark wood paneling and chairs upholstered in rich pearl gray.
There was a separate conversation area, a fully stocked wet bar behind the paneling of one wall, and the most advanced high-tech equipment available. Everything from a top-of-the-line iMac Pro to a seventy-inch flat screen with a wireless HDMI transmitter and receiver kit.
Reese checked his schedule for what seemed the fiftieth time. He was used to Kenzie keeping track for him. Without her there, he had run poor Louise ragged. He almost smiled. Kenzie’s assistant would be even more grateful to have her back than he would.
He thought about her ex-husband. Since Kenzie rarely spoke about herself, Reese had never made the connection to the wealthy Haines family until he had seen Lee Haines, who looked a great deal like his father.
Reese had never met Lee before, but he knew Arthur. Old Dallas oil money, an empire built by Arthur’s father. Along with Troy Graves, his late partner’s son, Arthur owned half of Black Sand Oil and Gas, one of Garrett Resources’ fiercest competitors.
He wondered how much Kenzie had collected in the divorce settlement. Surely enough to fight Haines’s suit and maintain custody of her son.
Or maybe not. He remembered hearing something about the senior Haines’s divorce. Rumor had it that Arthur had managed to leave his wife next to penniless. Her depression had eventually led to suicide. He wondered if Lee had managed to leave Kenzie with little or nothing, just as Arthur had done.
Thinking of his assistant and her ex-husband’s foul attitude toward her, Reese felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness. If Kenzie needed help, he would find a way to help her—whether or not she was too proud to accept it.
Rising from his desk, he wandered over to the window and looked down on the street. About the same number of sign-carrying protesters today as yesterday. He’d been surprised this morning to find them still there.
In Texas, drilling was a way of life. At least for now, fossil fuels were a necessity, though the company was heavily invested in sustainable energy, including geothermal, solar, and tidal. Reese sincerely hoped there would be enough alternate energy to run the world someday, but in the meantime, there was very little choice.
The intercom buzzed. The unfamiliar sound of Louise’s voice still surprised him.
“You have a call from Mr. Stiles, sir. He says it’s urgent.”
Derek Stiles was his VP in charge of mergers and acquisitions, working out of the Houston office. He was a good-looking guy, thirty-four, same age as Reese, and one of his top executives. “Go ahead and put him through, Louise.” Reese picked up the phone and leaned back in his chair. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until tomorrow.”
“I know, but unfortunately, another problem came up—more trouble with the rig.”
The deal to purchase the rig was being dragged down by unforeseen problems. For months, they’d been trying to close the deal with Sea Titan without success. The platform was only ninety miles off the coast, but the purchase couldn’t be finalized until a series of tests and safety drills had been performed and successfully completed.
“What’s going on?” Reese asked. He rarely involved himself in the day-to-day business of actual oil production, but this deal was important.
“There’s a situation with the lifeboats. They keep getting hung up once the men are aboard. The rig can’t pass inspection until the boats launch properly, and the problem needs to be fixed before drilling can resume. That definitely has to happen before we close the deal.”
“So get it fixed,” Reese said.
“The installation manager has been doing his best, but there’s some kind of equipment malfunction that’s going to require replacement parts. Getting them is going to take time, which will delay the drilling restart. I wouldn’t bother you except...well, as you know, this isn’t the first delay we’ve experienced lately.”
“Problems always arise in purchasing a project this big.”
“I know, but...”
Reese’s hold tightened on the phone. “What are you not telling me, Derek?”
His sigh came through the phone. “I really hate to put this out there without any proof, but I’m worried these delays aren’t accidental.”
Reese sat forward in his chair. “You think someone is sabotaging the rig?”
“I think it’s possible. That’s the reason I called. Maybe someone doesn’t want the deal to go through, or a competitor wants to buy the platform out from under us. It’s a helluva good price.”
“Which we’ve got completely tied down. No way can Sea Titan back out.”
“Maybe they’re having second thoughts, sabotaging the deal themselves.”
It was possible, he supposed. Or one of the whack jobs marching around out front in a clown mask could be involved, which raised the question, how far would the protesters be willing to go to make their point?
“Or it could just be a run of bad luck,” Derek said.
“Let’s hope that’s it. The Poseidon’s an important part of our latest market-share strategy. It represents months of hard work by a lot of good people—to say nothing of the money we’ve invested in the option. I’m glad you took the initiative on this. Keep me in the loop and let me know if any other problems come up.”
“Will do. Thanks, Reese.”
Reese could hear the relief in his VP’s voice. It was never easy to call the CEO with problems, or even potential problems.
He thought of the people waving signs in front of the office. They wanted to stop the purchase. They were using the deal to bring attention to their cause. He understood that, in many ways agreed with their concerns.
A notion that brought another thought squarely to mind. So far the NTSB—National Transportation Safety Board—hadn’t been able to pinpoint the cause of the helicopter crash. It was some kind of equipment malfunction, of course, but there had been no indication of a problem before the day of the crash.
He wouldn’t discount Derek’s phone call.
But he hoped like hell his VP was wrong.
* * *
Kenzie spent a leisurely day at home with Griff. She could tell he was feeling better because he was starting to get restless, pressing her to let him go outdoors.
“Mo-om.” He dragged it out like a two-syllable word, making her smile. “My head doesn’t hurt anymore and it’s boring just sitting around doing nothing. Can’t I at least go out and ride my skateboard in the driveway?”
Unlike some kids who spent every hour on their digital devices, Griff was an outdoor kid. He loved sports and any kind of outside activity, like hiking and baseball and especially swimming. Kenzie was usually grateful. Not today.