Page 79 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“How?” It was a single-word question, but the answer was far more complicated.
“We already know they have law enforcement in their pocket. They must have someone in environmental control and even border agents.”
“And Hugo?”
“I think he discovered that they weren’t actually protecting the bats. Maybe he pushed back or refused. I don’t know. But he hadn’t been on the job long, and from what I could find, it looks like he’d been auditing reports from previous years.”
“So the attack wasn’t random?”
I shook my head. “I think he was targeted.”
“Shit.”
“He was only doing his job.” Emotion welled inside me, my eyes filling with tears. “He loved his job. He loved being outside. Protecting nature and wildlife. Mom was so proud of him.”
He grasped my hand. “I’m so sorry. But you’re doing it. You’re gonna get justice for him.”
More than anything, I wanted him to wake up. I wanted him healthy and whole. But the chances were slim. So finding the fuckers who’d done this to him felt like my only salvation.
“The fucking FBI,” I said, the sadness morphing into anger. “They never took this seriously. They told my mom he was involved in a drug deal gone wrong. My brother had nothing to do with drugs.”
Emotion bubbled up, threatening to overtake me. But I choked it back. I couldn’t sink into the familiar cycle of rage and grief. Not when I was so close to justice.
I pulled him over to the wall. “Here.” I tapped at the massive map he’d brought home. “Before 2002, the bats were mating and nesting here.” I pointed to a region outlined in yellow. “I got the records and the agreements made between the state and Hebert Timber, Gagnon Lumber, and a couple other smaller companies. When the regulations went into place. This was the area that was protected.”
He nodded, head tilted, studying the map. “That makes sense. That’s the most mountainous area. Near the gorge.”
“Exactly. The bats nest and give birth in caves. But over time, the protected area has shifted. That was 2002. Your dad was running day-to-day operations. And this one.” I spun and snatched up a printout I’d been studying. “Three years later, in 2005, this is the zone. See how the protection area has moved?”
Bringing one hand up to his chin, he adopted a traditional thinking pose while he scanned the page.
“And,” I said, “that’s when Huxley Construction started donating generously to bat protection efforts.”
He straightened, his eyes going wide. “What?”
“Oh yes. I’ve got the charitable giving reports from the IRS. Charles Huxley was lieutenant governor at the time, and he advocated for the protection of native Maine wildlife species. The northern long-eared bat was classified as endangered by the state of Maine, but only threatened at the federal level.”
“Is the difference important?”
I nodded. “They weren’t considered endangered on that level until a few years ago, but he was leading the charge. That meant even more protection against habitat loss. Now…” I shuffled through pages until I found the one I was looking for. Then I laid it on the desk. “This is the map from 2010.” Again, I’d outlined the protected area with yellow highlighter.
“Oh shit. They moved the bats.”
My pulse flickered. He got it. “I think so.”
He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his T-shirt. “And the road? See here.” He traced his finger along what looked to be a path. “That’s the old road. See how it moves along with the river?”
I nodded.
“Before the Golden Road was built in the ’70s,” he said, settling his glasses in place again, “there was a network of old roads. They’d been used since the 1800s. Back when lumber companies floated logs down the river or used horse-drawn trucks to transport them to the mill.
“When the Golden Road was built to accommodate all four of the big timber companies, they stopped using and maintaining those roads. They were never even paved, so it didn’t matter much.”
“And now?” More pieces of this puzzle were coming together.
He lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t been out there in years, but I’d assume they’re overgrown hiking trails.”
“The one you pointed out is visible, but there are more, right? Could you add them to the map?”
