Page 38 of Forgotten Path
“Theo,” she explained. “He mentioned your name and that you have a Jeep like Doc’s. But it’s notlike Doc’s, itisDoc’s Jeep. Right?”
“That’s right.”
She frowned. “How did his Jeep get back to Sugarloaf Key if he was dead on the floor of the houseboat?”
“Thatis an excellent question.” He continued to watch her with quick alert eyes.
She forced herself not to squirm under his gaze and drained her glass. “Well, I should go. I just stopped in to have a drink in Doc’s memory. I have to be at work early in the morning.”
“At the paper company?”
“Right. I work for Gulf Paper Company, but we do a lot more than manufacture paper. In fact, we don’t even make paper anymore. The company shut down the last mill a few years ago.”
“So, what does your company do?”
“We distribute paper products. But recently, we’ve moved into newer technologies. Paper is single-use, which, of course, isn’t very sustainable. We also have a real estate division that’s developing a parcel of land on the estuary into a gated residential community.”
“A housing development seems like an unusual project for a paper company.”
“It is, and it isn’t. The company owns a large piece of property near Emerald Island. You didn’t hear this from me, but the original plan for the land was to use it as a dumping site to get rid of waste and by-products from the paper manufacturing process.”
“Nowthat’snot very sustainable.”
She acknowledged the truth with a laugh. “No, it’s not. But I’m pleased to say the company never acted on those plans.”
“Because of you?”
“Nope. It’s the other way around, actually.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
Steffi handed him a glass of nonalcoholic tonic. He gave her a grateful smile and sipped on the drink while he waited for Brianna to explain.
“When the company’s plans came to light, the community reaction was about what you might expect.”
“Unfavorable?”
“To put it mildly, yes. Gulf Paper scrapped the plan and created a sustainability department. I was their second hire. And now, I’m a C-suite executive there.”
A question sparked in his eyes. “Do you happen to know anything about algae blooms?”
She coughed. Thank goodness she’d finished her drink. Otherwise, she had no doubt she’d have done a full-blown spit take. “I’m sorry, did you say algae blooms?”
“Yes. The red tides that are common in this area, specifically.”
Her heart thudded so loudly that she was half-convinced he’d hear it. “I mean, everyone who lives on the coast knows about red tides.”
“Sure. Do you have any specialized knowledge? I think Doctor Ashland was working on something related to the red tide, but I don’t know what. Maybe you have a better understanding of the marine ecosystem around here?”
She pressed her lips together, tented her eyebrows, and shook her head slowly. “Sorry. I don’t know anything about that.” She slid off her stool and grabbed her purse from the countertop. “It’s been nice talking to you, but I really do have to go.”
She waved goodbye to Steffi and bolted from the juice bar.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Fred sat at the long, curved bar and nursed his pour of Pappy Van Winkle. Truth be told, he didn’t especially like bourbon, but Pappy was the best—or at least the most expensive—and that, Fred did like.
In the mirror that ran the length of the wall behind the bar, he watched the reflections of the tourists eating and chatting in the dining room. At the same time, he half-listened to the bartenders and servers gossiping about Doc Ashland’s death. Word on the street was that Doc had taken a header down the ladder from his loft. He wondered why nobody else seemed to find it odd that FDLE investigators had been sent down from Panama City in response to an apparent accident.
