Above him in the pecking order was the Southwest Regional Senior Vice President, one of four in the state. According to info Ellie had dug up on the web, there were also VPs of Marketing, Sales, and Production for each of the four regions, who reported to the senior VPs.

At the head of the food chain was a CEO, a CFO, and a COO.

Helluva lot of names, none of which meant a damn thing to Kade.

Still, they moved forward, starting with the District Manager, a guy named Clive Murphy. They went through all the steps and were finally admitted to Murphy’s fifth-floor office—desk, credenza, bookcase, two chairs, standard management level, nothing special.

They completed introductions, and both of them shook Murphy’s hand. He was in his mid-forties, with medium-brown hair cut short, a dark suit, and a yellow-striped power tie. Nothing about him rang any bells, but he was high enough up the company ladder to afford to pay Frank Keller.

“I understand this has something to do with the explosion at the Red Hawk Mine,” Murphy said as they sat down in front of his desk.

“That’s right,” Kade said. “We’re looking for information on a guy name Frank Keller, a former Red Hawk Mine explosives expert.”

“We suspect he’s the man who set the charge in the tunnel,” Ellie added. “Keller was recently murdered. We think the incidents are connected.”

Murphy’s features sharpened. He leaned forward and started typing on his keyboard.

“I knew the name sounded familiar. Looks like Keller worked for the company for quite a few years. He was hired on a contract basis. Never was a full-time employee.”

“Did you know him personally?” Kade asked.

“I think I met him a couple of times during the years he worked for us, but I really didn’t know him. According to this, he was originally recommended by the Colorado Springs District Manager. Keller did some work for one of the coal mines we operate in that area. I had no reason not to support the recommendation.”

“Any chance we can speak to the Colorado Springs manager?” Kade asked.

“Let’s find out.” Murphy leaned over and picked up the phone, spoke to someone, then turned back to them. “His name is Anthony Russo. Tony’s got time right now. He’s just down the hall.”

They said their thank-yous and goodbyes and headed for Russo’s office.

Tony was a black-haired, olive-skinned man of Italian heritage, attractive, with a killer smile. The result of the conversation was the same. Keller did a good job at the mine where he’d first been hired. Russo had recommended him to Murphy for the job at the Red Hawk Mine. He had met Keller somewhere but said didn’t really recall much about him.