Carats and Coconuts by D. D. Scott Page A

precious gemstones have been
taken from this forest. Many of the world’s largest mining
companies believe our Witherspoon & Witherspoon Operations
could be part of the richest mines in the world.
    But they’ve got a problem.
    This land belongs to the Sol Larga
Indians, and mining is illegal on all of Brazil’s Indian
lands.
    My parent’s operation is allowed
because they’re not a for-profit mining business. They mine for
research and conservation.
    But no matter how hard they try, even
with the cooperation of the indigenous people, they can’t stop the
thriving black market from pilfering the treasures these forests
hold.
    Thus, a special unit of Brazil’s
federal police are here to attempt to keep out the wildcat
miners.
    “ If you ask me and the Sol
Larga’s Chief Valente, here comes our biggest problem,” I whispered
to Roman as Police Chief Maurio Fosito moved toward us, flanked by
a few of his officers.
    “ Usually is,” Roman
answered, his jaw twitching, which meant his mind was preparing his
body for trouble.
    “ Something along the line of
how much they get paid to look the other way?” I
ventured.
    “ And who’s paying who,”
Roman finished my thought with total accuracy.
    I normally love how we share brain
waves. But that time, I could only hope he wasn’t sharing all of
mine. If he was, he was in just as much danger as I was of never
making it out of this forest alive.
    Unless…
    We could beat our little rogue elf
Stanley and his associates at their own deadly game.
    So, game on.
    “ Zoey, how good to see you
again,” Police Chief Fosito said, with the sincerity of one of
Roman and Vitto’s mob soldiers when they get an unexpected visit
from their bosses.
    “ You as well, Chief Fosito,”
I said, a firm believer in attempting to kill ‘em with
kindness.
    I only resorted to kickin’ someone’s
ass if my first tactic failed.
    “ I’ve brought some friends
with me this trip.”
    “ So I see,” Fosito said
neither his voice nor his expression conveying he was particularly
happy about it.
    “ Well now, I don’t know
about y’all, but I’m not necessarily feelin’ the love from The Foz
here. Are you?”
    Leave it to Grams to go right for the
balls every time. There was never any honey drippin’ from her
words, just one gigantic fly swatter goin’ for pay dirt.
    So much for killin’ The Foz with
kindness, I thought.
    “ Why don’t you calm down a
bit, Ms…”
    “ Weiss. The name is Lucy
Weiss. My friends call me Grams. But you ain’t that lucky, Foz. You
just stick with Ms. Weiss,” Grams said then harrumphed till her
tiny body shook. “And say, did ya ever notice that the people who
tell you to calm down are the ones who pissed ya off to begin
with?”
    “ Another Maxine-ism?” Granny
V asked, laughing out loud.
    “ Something like that,” I
said, while giving Roman the evil eye for insisting Grams be part
of our welcome wagon.
    The Foz remained silent as he and
Grams remained stuck in one fierce stare-down.
    I cleared my throat, knowing I had to
get this show on the road as quickly as possible and get us to the
high-security Witherspoon Lodge inside the reservation.
    “ Grams is a little cranky
today. Sorry about that, Chief. If you’ll just order your men to
let us through, we’ll be on our way to Witherspoon &
Witherspoon.”
    “ I’m afraid I can’t do
that,” he said, without the slightest hesitation.
    “ Why not?” I asked, knowing
very well how these games were often played, although, I’d never
had to play them with The Foz. This turn of events did surprise
me.
    The situation down here must be worse
than I’d thought. And that realization alone made my bladder much
weaker.
    “ Business has picked up
lately, and we’ve had…what would you call it…a change in protocol,”
The Foz said, sounding way too cocky.
    “ I’ve got this,” Vitto said,
stepping between Roman and I, a large brief case in his
hands.
    The Foz motioned for Vitto to follow
him