Killing Hour - Lisa Gardner [128]
“You know what it is?” Mac asked sharply.
“Absolutely. It’s sawdust. Not pollen at all, but finely ground wood.”
“I don’t get it,” Kimberly said.
“Sawmill, my dear. In addition to coal mines, the southwestern part of the state also has a lot of timber industry. This sample is sawdust. And, if these samples are supposed to go together . . .”
“We hope so,” Mac said.
“Then your water’s pH is due to organic waste. See, if mill wastes are not disposed of properly, the organic matter leaches into a stream, where it leads to bacterial buildup, eventually suffocating all other life-forms. Has Brian tested the sample for bacteria yet?”
“The amount’s too small.”
“But the high salinity,” Armitage was muttering. “Must be minerals of some kind. Pity he can’t test it more.”
“Wait a minute,” Kimberly said intently. “You’re saying this is from a mill, not a mine?”
“Well, I don’t generally associate sawdust with coal mines. So yes, I’m going to say a lumber mill.”
“But that could give you acidic water?”
“Contamination is contamination, my dear. And with a pH reading of three-point-eight, your water came from an extremely contaminated source.”
“But Knowles indicated this water is at a crisis,” Mac said. “Aren’t mills regulated for how they dispose of waste?”
“In theory, yes. But then, there’s a lot of lumber mills in this state and I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the smaller, backwoods operations fall through the cracks.”
Nora Ray had finally perked up. She was looking at the palynologist with interest. “What if it were a closed mill?” she asked quietly. “Some place shut down, abandoned.” Her gaze flickered to Mac. “That would be his kind of place, you know. Remote and dangerous, like something from a B-grade horror movie.”
“Oh, I’m sure there are plenty of abandoned mills in the state,” Armitage said. “Particularly in the coal counties. That’s not a very populated area. And, frankly, not a bad location for a horror movie.”
“How so?” Mac asked.
“It’s an impoverished area. Very rural. People first moved out there to get their own land and be free from government. Then the coal mines opened and attracted hordes of cheap labor, looking to make a living. Unfortunately, farming, timber, or mining hasn’t made anyone rich yet. Now you just have a broad expanse of bruised and battered land, housing a bruised and battered population. People still eke out a living, but it’s a hard life and the communities look it.”
“So we’re back to seven counties,” Mac murmured.
“That would be my guess.”
“Nothing more you can tell us?”
“Not from a minute sample of sawdust.”
“Shit.” Seven counties. That just wasn’t specific enough. Maybe if they’d started yesterday or the day before. Maybe if they had hundreds of searchers or what the hell, the entire National Guard. But three people, two of them not even in law enforcement . . .
“Mr. Armitage,” Kimberly spoke up suddenly. “Do you have a computer we can use? One with Internet access.”
“Sure, I have my laptop.”
Kimberly was already up out of her chair. Her gaze went to Mac and he was startled by the light he now saw blazing in her eyes. “Remember how Ray Lee Chee said there was an ology for everything?” she asked excitedly. “Well, I’m about to put him to the test. Give me the names of the seven coal-producing counties and I think I can find our rice!”
CHAPTER 37
Quantico, Virginia
1:12 P.M.
Temperature: 98 degrees
DR. ENNUNZIO WAS NOT IN HIS OFFICE. A secretary promised to hunt him down, while Quincy and Rainie took a seat in the conference room. Quincy rifled through his files. Rainie stared at the wall. Periodically, sounds came from the hallway as various agents and admin assistants rushed by doing a day’s work.
“It’s not that simple,” Quincy said abruptly.
Rainie finally looked at him. As always, she didn’t need a segue to follow his line of thought. “I know.”
“We’re not exactly spring chickens.