I laughed. “You sound like someone out of one of those old westerns where the town bully tells the sheriff to ‘String ’em up. They’re half-breeds, no better than savages, and they belong on the end of a rope.’”

Baggetto held up a hand. “Whoa, let’s put away the heavy artillery and the drones and so on. Bram, we’re concerned at the fort because the woman Warshawski is trying to find is the daughter of one of our own. He died at the Battle of the Bulge, so we want to make sure no harm comes to his daughter. We’re here to give Ms. Warshawski any help she needs.

“Ms. Warshawski, Bram has an interest in what happens at the McKinnon farm because there are patents involved in the crops they’re experimenting with. They want to know of any criminal activity in the area, so the sheriff’s office sends them security alerts.”

“Then he’s got the right person’s ear.”

I headed for the door, but Baggetto got up to walk out to the street with me.

“Sorry if Roswell was a bit heavy-handed there. Sea-2-Sea execs get goofy about security because their corporate history includes hippies running amok in their operations back in the Vietnam era. Not to mention bomb threats from people who are opposed to genetically modified food.”

“Yep. As a nation we get hysterical over anticorporate protesters, but if a state government pollutes a city’s drinking water, the law-and-order brigades are strangely quiet.”

Baggetto shook his head. “I’m not going to debate politics with you, Ms. Warshawski. I just want to assure you that if the army can do anything to help you locate Emerald Ferring, all you have to do is call me.” He handed me a card with his cell-phone number on it.

I stuffed it into my jeans pocket and opened my car door. Peppy stuck her head out. “Is that why you drove over to Lawrence? I gave your CO’s secretary—the captain, Arata is it?”

“Arrieta,” he corrected.

“Right. I gave Captain Arrieta my contact information. You could have texted or e-mailed me.”

He laughed. “I came here to help out young Pinsen—he’s the senior cadet in the Army ROTC up on the hill. I’m giving a lecture there tomorrow, the Signal Corps and modern intelligence intercepts. You’re welcome to sit in.”

“That’s your specialty? Modern intelligence? I ought to sit in. The modern detective is probably like the modern army officer: these days we do most of our work at computers, not out on the ground.”

Baggetto bent to scratch Peppy’s ears. “You seem to be covering a fair amount of ground, Ms.— What can I call you? My name is Dante.”