Page 27 of South of Nowhere (Colter Shaw #5)

27.

Colter Shaw watched the precise man pause outside the tent and carefully shake the umbrella out, as if he had just come calling to the home of someone whose beautiful hardwood floors he would never, in a million years, taint with rainwater.

He entered, set the open umbrella down in the back and joined those present with a cheerful nod.

His name was Howie Katz and he’d driven here—well, apparently, been driven—from Fort Pleasant.

“How can we help you?” Tolifson asked, waving him to a chair.

Colter’s eyes caught his sister’s and they shared a glance of curiosity—tinted with a vague air of suspicion. Some things just didn’t smell quite right from the get-go.

“I know how busy you must be so I’ll just jump in. I’m head of community relations for a company in Fort Pleasant. You’ve probably heard of us…GraphSet Chips, Inc.” A look around. TC McGuire nodded. Tolifson squinted but the others gave no reaction. To them he said, “No? Well, no worries.” He smiled. “Chips. Not the potato variety. We really ought to change the name. We’re one of the biggest specialized graphics-processing chipmakers in the world, and unlike a lot of the others we make chips exclusively in the United States, not South Korea or Taiwan.”

McGuire said, “You need GPU chips for artificial intelligence. AI can’t run on CPUs.”

Katz’s eyes brightened and he stabbed a finger toward the officer. “Exactly! To make a long story somewhat less long, we met in an emergency meeting this morning, the board and the senior staff. We authorized aid for towns in Olechu County affected by flooding. And Hinowah is one of them. You can look at us like a private FEMA.”

“Aid? What kind of aid?” Tolifson asked.

“Two forms. Cash payments to each household damaged or destroyed by flooding—that’s on top of their private insurance coverage. Insured or not, a homeowner gets the money. And, two, our financing department will arrange long-term, low-interest loans.” He added brightly, “I’m talking private residences and businesses.”

“That’s pretty generous,” Tolifson offered. He glanced at Starr. “Maybe our guest would like a cup of coffee.”

Colter noted Dorion stiffen—and he himself was about to shoot a get-it-yourself glance to the mayor. But before either could react, Katz shook his head. “No, no, I’m good. Thanks.” The man smiled. He had a cherubic face. Made sense to look like that, if you were a shill for a big company.

“We want to be a good neighbor. Our employees’ve fallen in love with Olechu County. And I’m one of them. We were based in Silicon Valley but we decided it was too expensive and congested. And we didn’t like the…mindset. Too many apps for sushi and wine terroirs. We were a little apprehensive—being outsiders—but you all welcomed us with open arms.”

Shaw was six when the family fled from the Bay Area to the Compound. He had little recollection of Silicon Valley, though he was now very aware of its pricey and pretentious nature, having run various jobs there, including one that took him head-to-head with one of the biggest video-game makers in the world. On the other hand, those people you could label inauthentic and pompous had unquestionably changed the world—usually for the better.

The cheerfulness now gave way to a strain of sincerity. “It’s not all altruism, of course. We count your residents as some of our best employees, and we want to make sure they have houses to come home to when the day is done.”

Colter suspected there was another reason behind the move. Dorion had told him that every disaster response company in the country had a tactical plan for the aftermath of a quake along the San Andreas Fault, which ran nearly the length of California—and right through the heart of Silicon Valley. It was this fault that was responsible for the quake of 1906, which resulted in the destruction of much of San Francisco.

Another quake would happen.

Only a matter of time.

Katz placed a large stack of business cards on the table. “Give those away to your residents. And you can make the announcement to look us up online. We have people standing by to take their calls. We can arrange for emergency shelter, food, water, insurance company liaison, get them cash. Your ATMs’ll be out, of course.”

“Can’t thank you enough, Mr. Katz,” Tolifson said.

“Giving back. That’s what it’s all about.” He rose, again studying the levee and its growing waterfall.

“Ask a question?” This came from Debi Starr.

“Of course, Officer.” He turned.

“What about now?”

“Now?”

“You’re talking about help if the levee fails.”

“That’s right. God forbid it happens, of course.”

“All very good and kind of you. But Fort Pleasant’s got the bulk of the state and county manpower to sandbag and shore up and who knows what the heck else they’re up to.”

Tolifson was once again shaking his head subtly, instructing his officer to tread carefully.

She either didn’t see or—Colter suspected—chose to ignore him.

Katz was frowning. “I’m not sure about that.”

“No, no, it’s true. All the resources’re there. And I’m just thinking, since you’ve got to be talking millions…”

“Tens of.”

A finger snap. “There you go, sir. Well, we could use help now . We’re still not one hundred percent evacuated. And we’re not sandbagging the top of the levee because it’s not safe.”

The officer did not mention why.

“But if we had the manpower, I mean fifty, sixty people, we could clear out all of the population and triple sandbag in front of the town. And get a half dozen bulldozers in here to trench. Won’t stop all of the flood, if the whole shebang comes down, but it’ll go a long way.”

He grimaced. “Well, we looked at the estimated volume and the topography. That would save some of the town, but not the south side. And of course, the farmland and the mine would still get flooded.”

Tolifson stirred. “I’m sure—”

But Starr ignored him. “Just looking the whole thing up and down, I’d say saving some houses is better than saving none. And it’d also save you a big wad of that aid money.”

Katz looked into the village. “Anybody sandbagging would be in harm’s way.”

Olsen said, “We’re taking precautions to prevent or slow the collapse.”

Again, not mentioning that it was tactical bomb curtains that would buy them protection and time.

Katz was nodding. “Of course. It’s a great idea. A super one. I like it. Of course, that’s not a call for me to make but I’ll raise it. I’ll raise it soon as I’m back in the office.”

Dorion said, “I hope your personal home’s okay, Mr. Katz. And the company headquarters.”

“Both safe, thanks for asking.”

Colter had known his sister long enough to spot the stiletto blade of irony.

Which the executive missed entirely.

He retrieved his hundred-dollar umbrella and climbed back up to the Mercedes. There, Colter saw him sit in the backseat, leaving the door open. The driver, a large man with pale skin, walked around the car to him. Katz took off his shoes and handed them to the man, who put them in the trunk, along with the umbrella. He returned with a shoebox. Katz opened it and pulled on brown lace-ups. There was tissue paper involved. The shoes were new.

Debi Starr happened to be looking too. “Hm, I’m going to check and see if we’ve got money to hire a shoe-replacer man, Mayor.”

“You don’t think he’s going to up and throw the dirty ones out, do you?” Tolifson asked.

Starr said to Dorion: “I guess vultures come in all shapes and sizes.”

“Amen,” whispered Tamara Olsen. “You think we’ll see any of that money and manpower up front?”

“Not a penny,” Starr muttered, though with some good humor.

TC McGuire said, “So. What now? No suspects. It’s a dead end.”

Starr looked from the limo to those around the table. “Thought occurred.”

Colter asked, “Inspired by a podcast?”

“Matter of fact, yes. I do love them. Jimmy, he likes Dancing with the Stars . Mr. Two Left Feet. And American Idol . And the twins are sports, sports, superheroes and sports. But I like my pods. Anyway there’s a history one I was listening to last year. You ever hear about the Hatfields and McCoys?”