Investigative journalist Jack Kendall never expected an anonymous tip to lead him into the heart of Floridaâs Bone Valley phosphate industry, where corruption, environmental destruction, and murder go hand in hand. But when he uncovers a series of unsolved killings linked to a powerful phosphate company, he realizes he's stumbled onto something far more dangerous than he imagined.
Teaming up with police reporter Bobbie Jackson, Jack races to expose the truth while facing relentless threatsâfrom corporate executives to a vengeful enemy from his past. As a Category 5 hurricane barrels toward the coast, the stakes skyrocket. Toxic spills threaten entire communities, and the body count rises.
With time running out, Jack must navigate a deadly landscape where greed outweighs morality, and those in power will do anything to bury their secrets.
Set against the haunting backdrop of Floridaâs ravaged phosphate fields, Bone Valley, the third installment in the Jack Kendall Mystery series, is a gripping thriller of greed, corruption, and one manâs relentless pursuit of environmental justice.
Investigative journalist Jack Kendall never expected an anonymous tip to lead him into the heart of Floridaâs Bone Valley phosphate industry, where corruption, environmental destruction, and murder go hand in hand. But when he uncovers a series of unsolved killings linked to a powerful phosphate company, he realizes he's stumbled onto something far more dangerous than he imagined.
Teaming up with police reporter Bobbie Jackson, Jack races to expose the truth while facing relentless threatsâfrom corporate executives to a vengeful enemy from his past. As a Category 5 hurricane barrels toward the coast, the stakes skyrocket. Toxic spills threaten entire communities, and the body count rises.
With time running out, Jack must navigate a deadly landscape where greed outweighs morality, and those in power will do anything to bury their secrets.
Set against the haunting backdrop of Floridaâs ravaged phosphate fields, Bone Valley, the third installment in the Jack Kendall Mystery series, is a gripping thriller of greed, corruption, and one manâs relentless pursuit of environmental justice.
7 a.m., Monday, July 12, 1982
James Brewster and Dan Rumsfeld drove to the giant phosphate gypsum pond in an old, rusted company Chevy pickup truck.
âWhere was the leak you saw last night?â asked Brewster, Granger Station Phosphate Co.âs 32-year-old chief mining engineer.
âItâs up ahead,â said Rumsfeld, a 22-year-old mining technician who had been on the job only a year after graduating from Manatee Junior College in nearby Bradenton.
âWhat did you see exactly?â Brewster asked calmly as he tried to understand the latest breach in the 200-foot-high earthen berm that contained 250 million gallons of gypsum wastewater and toxic slime.
âWell, as I made my final trip around the stack, I saw cracks in the wall with a steady trickle. When I got out to look, the dirt was soft and damp all around the crack,â said Rumsfeld as he looked at his notebook. âI noted it in my log and told Mr. Grousland. I thought I better report it directly when you came in.â
Brewster grimaced. Pierre Grousland, Granger Stationâs plant manager, had refused to repair the weakening gypstack wall all year. The wastewater in the stack, made primarily out of sand and clay, was rising at a dangerous level.
Brewster knew a significant spill into the nearby Terra Ceia Bay ecosystem and adjacent neighborhoods could cause catastrophic environmental damage.
An anomaly in the phosphate industry, Brewster was a brilliant structural and mining engineer with an environmentalist mind. Co-workers saw him as a talented, conscientious, friendly, supportive, and dedicated professional.
His math background gave him a mastery of statistics and economics. But it didnât take a genius to figure out that the more ore trucked to the Granger fertilizer processing plant, the more money the company could earn and the higher bonuses executives pocketed.
Granger Station was the area's oldest and most notorious phosphate fertilizer processing plant. It was located several miles south of Piney Point in far northwestern Manatee County, close to Terra Ceia Bay, and in the middle of several housing developments that grew around it over the years.
âGrousland should have called me last night. You were right to come to me,â Brewster said. âIâve been worried about the strength of the gypstack walls and the rainfall and water levels in the pond all summer. There must be a fissure inside the wall that is getting through the berm.â
While Grangerâs main phosphogypsum holding pondâcalled a gypstack in industry termsâis considered small and outdated, it still contains a hazardous mixture of radioactive gypsum and toxic wastewater byproducts from the adjacent fertilizer processing plant.
Like many fertilizer plants and mines in Central Florida's Bone Valley phosphate region, Granger Phosphate Co. faces the challenge of managing massive amounts of gypsum waste, an unusable byproduct of fertilizer production.
By 1980, Floridaâs 20 gypstacks had already accumulated nearly 900 million tons of gypsum, with an additional 30 million tons added annuallyâa growing environmental and logistical burden.
âMr. Brewster, what do you think would happen if the walls ever collapsed?â asked Rumsfeld as they drew closer to the problem area. âThese leaks seem to be getting worse.â
âIt would be a catastrophe for this neighborhood. The runoff to the bay also would be highly destructive,â said Brewster, his voice filled with concern.
âWhen too much nitrogen and phosphorus get into our waterways, it can lead to harmful algae blooms,â he added. âThese blooms can suffocate marine life and are linked to red tide that can cause respiratory problems, skin irritation, rashes, and burning eyes.â
âIâve been reading about heavy metals from phosphate mining,â Rumsfeld said.
âLead and mercury can stifle growth in plants and animals, mess with their reproduction ability, and even lead to neurological issues. Itâs up to you and me, and our team, to prevent this sludge from getting out into our ecosystems,â said Brewster, relishing the teaching opportunity.
âWhat about radioactivity from mining and processing?â Rumsfeld said. âWe are warned about it as employees, but the industry seems to downplay its risks.â
Brewster didnât respond immediately. He stared past Rumsfeld, his jaw tightening as memories surfacedâhis parents' coughing fits, the smell of damp earth, and the hollow silence that followed their passing.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm. âYouâre right. The industry downplays it because admitting the truth would shut them down overnight. They donât want youâor anyoneâconnecting the dots,â Brewster said.
He paused, his gaze hardening. âSo, when they tell you the risks are minimal, or the radiation is harmless. Thatâs not cautionâtheyâre covering their tracks. Youâd better believe itâs dangerous, not just for employees but for every family living near these sites.â
Rumsfeld shifted uncomfortably. He didnât expect such a weighty answer.
âI appreciate you leveling with me. I have to tell you, it always amazed me how the county could allow this fertilizer company to build this plant so close to Terra Ceia Bay,â said Rumsfeld as he scanned the tall gypstack walls for the slightest sign of cracks.
Brewster looked at Rumsfeld and smiled. He was happy to have him on his team. Rumsfeld was a conscientious worker who cared for the environment.
When Brewster took the job at Granger a year earlier, he also wondered the same question. Phosphate spills into Terra Ceia could cause immense harm to an environmentally sensitive bay. Then, there was the damage and serious health problems a spill could cause families in the adjacent neighborhood.
But when the plant opened in 1965, the property had been an aging orange grove in a primarily agricultural area with only a few houses and barns nearby.
Due to the affordable property and housing prices, the working-class and retirement neighborhoods had expanded to over 300 homes and 1,000 residents, including men, women, and children.
Brewster had met some of the neighbors when Grousland was unavailable. He listened to their complaints about the plant's smell and the noise that sometimes could be heard round the clock.
They asked him what would happen if disaster struck and the gypsum stack collapsed. While he explained that a gypstack collapse was unlikely, he said fissures in the walls could open, and wastewater could push through into the perimeter ditch.
If that happened, Grangerâs three holding ponds would begin to discharge wastewater into several underground pipes leading to Terra Ceia until the cracks in the gypstack could be sealed, primarily with cement.
He didnât tell the neighbors, but a collapse of the gypstack wall could likely result in a 10-foot wastewater surge, flooding nearby homes. This potential disaster caused Brewster many sleepless nights, so he frequently urged Granger to improve maintenance and enhance safety measures for the gypstack and holding ponds.
âMr. Brewster, I see the leak. Itâs up ahead,â Rumsfeld said.
âI see it. Itâs coming out very fast,â Brewster called out as he saw a stream of white toxic wastewater running across the access road at the base of the containment wall and into the perimeter collection ditch.
âIt wasnât leaking as much last night, I swear. I would have called you at home,â Rumsfeld said.
âWe have a significant leak,â Brewster excitedly said.
âYes, this is it,â said Rumsfeld in a shaky voice. âDid I screw up? I didnât think the crack was going to break open like this. Itâs only been 10 hours since I first saw it.â
âItâs not your fault, but we need to get this fixed immediately,â Brewster said with a frown. "We need to mobilize the maintenance team and start sealing the crack as soon as possible."
Brewster looked down at the wall as far as he could and saw no other leaks.
âWe need to do a complete inspection of the entire berm. Where thereâs one leak, there could be more. Iâve been warning about this,â said Brewster, stopping the truck. âIâm going to take some measurements and pictures.â
As he left the truck, he grabbed his tape measure and walked over to the hole gushing wastewater. He measured the diameter of the gap. It was about 18 inches across.
âDan, get me three or four of the small Pyrex sample bottles,â said Brewster as he looked up at the top of the wall and realized where he was.
Brewster had noticed a dark discoloration at the top of the bulging wall two weeks earlier. It had gotten worse, and it was now clearly waterlogged. He didnât like this development. It was right above the hole that was leaking the white acidic water.
While the bulge at the top of the wall was troubling, he was most concerned about the fissure leaking wastewater slime at the base of the containment wall. If not repaired immediately, the leak could cause a significant breach.
He took samples of the white-colored, foul-smelling liquid into the three small bottles and then marked the location and date. He would later test them for phosphorus, fluoride, solids, and radium-226 to compare with EPA surface water standards. Previous tests showed that Granger's surface discharges exceeded EPA standards, and he expected these tests to show more of the same.
As he completed the sampling, Brewster began to think about what he would say in his daily report to executive management. His reports were usually met with irritation. No one wanted to hear bad news that could slow up production.
But this leak was severe, an apparent emergency and action needed to be taken immediately. Brewster took several pictures with his Polaroid camera and wrote down the date and the time on the border.
âDan, we need to measure and document the flow out of this hole. This wastewater is coming out at a fast rate,â Brewster said.
Rumsfeld got the flowmeter, a device Brewster used to get a precise reading on a breach, and handed it to the engineer, who took several quick initial measurements. The gauge showed 200 gallons per minute, higher than last year's sealed leak.
âAfter we are done, Iâd like you to monitor this leak every two hours until we can repair it,â Brewster said. âMake sure the next shift knows about this in case of delays. I will let Grousland know what we have here.â
Brewster stood and stared at the flow of highly acidic wastewater crossing the access road and into the perimeter ditch surrounding the gypstack.
A hundred feet away, the perimeter ditch connected to three smaller retention ponds, which, based on Granger's discharge permit, could be pumped into Terra Ceia in emergencies to reduce overflow.
âWhat will happen now with all this wastewater coming out? Is it as toxic as it looks?â Rumsfeld asked.
âYes, it is highly toxic, acidic and poisonous. Please donât get any of it on your shoes. I am sure Grousland will want to pump it into the bay unless we can stop it,â Brewster said. âYou say this is worse than last night?â
âYes, much worse,â Rumsfeld said. âI canât believe it.â
âCan you get a repair crew out here today?â Rumsfeld asked. âIâve seen management shoot you down on other repairs.â
âGrousland has to order a repair. This leak is the worst weâve had this summer,â Brewster said.
âWhat if Grousland decides to discharge into the bay? Heâs done it before,â Rumsfeld said.
Brewster shook his head as he reached for his walkie-talkie. âHe could do it. He has up to a two million per day state discharge permit. But this leak could get worse, way beyond his permit, if he doesnât fix it.â
âPierre, this is James. Do you read me? Over,â Brewster said.
After a brief delay, Grousland replied, âWhat is it, over?â
âWe have a serious breach on the east wall,â Brewster said. âWe need a repair crew out here ASAP, over.â
âHow much is it? Over,â Grousland said.
âWe have a hole discharging 200 gallons per minute. As you were informed, itâs been steadily increasing. Have you been out here?â
âIâm aware of it,â Grousland said.
âWell, you should come out and see this for yourself,â Brewster said. âWe need to get this fixed before it gets worse, and it will unless we do something.â
âIâll come out later. Iâm discussing options with corporate,â Grousland said. âWhen you finish, return to the office and give me your written report.â
âBut Pierre, this is serious. The wall could breach. Itâs soft up to the top. We need a crew out here now,â said Brewster, wondering how Grousland could be so calm about the leak.
âIâm on it. Donât worry, write up that report,â Grousland said.
âAre you going to order a repair? Over,â Brewster asked.
Grousland didnât answer. The line went dead.
âDid he answer you? Are we getting a repair crew?â Rumsfeld asked.
âHe is talking with corporate about it,â said Brewster disgustingly. âWait here. I need to take a closer look at the bulge up top.â
As he started climbing the 35-degree slope, Brewster thought it odd that the bulge was above the hole at the base where the leak was flushing wastewater. He suspected the whole wall was weak from top to bottom.
Over the past month, he observed the bulge extending outwards, growing several inches daily. He attributed that to the intense summer rain increasing the stack's water level. It looked even worse today, indicating further instability in the wall.
It was clear to him that the sheer volume and weight of the water were becoming too much for the containment wall to bear, especially since the 15-year-old stack was an old design built without polyurethane protective liners, a precaution many newer walls featured.
After examining the stack's top and water level, Brewster returned to the truck. He opened the door, took out his notepad and jotted down his observations.
âHow did it look?â inquired Rumsfeld.
âWorse than before,â Brewster said. âWe have problems up and down this section of the wall.â
âI watched the leak, but it didnât seem like it was getting larger or coming out faster,â Rumsfeld said.
âI want you to watch this section all day,â Brewster said. âEvery hour, I want you to measure the height and width of that hole and take flowmeter measurements. Take water samples every two hours, one at the base here and the second where the stream empties into the perimeter ditch,â Brewster said. âNow, letâs drive around to the north wall.â
âMay I tell you something?â Rumsfeld asked.
âWhat is it?â Brewster said.
âMany workers think Mr. Grousland isnât doing enough to make the plant safe. They hear you sometimes arguing with him,â Rumsfeld said. âIs that about the water levels?â
Brewster nodded. He wanted Grousland to slow production at the processing plant and reinforce the containment walls.
âDo you think the boss is doing enough?â Rumsfeld asked.
âI shouldnât talk about what managers discuss in meetings, but I will say this: you arenât wrong,â Brewster said.
âThere is a lot of talk about a disaster coming. I have friends who live around here, and they are super-worried, especially with the rains getting stronger and the number of leaks weâve been fixing,â Rumsfeld said.
âItâs not rocket science what we are doing,â Brewster said. âThe more rain that falls in the stack and ponds, the higher the water levels rise and the greater the pressure on the walls.
âYou combine that with higher amounts of groundwater pumping to run the fertilizer processing plant, and thatâs a recipe for disaster,â he said.
âCanât they just slow production until we fix these walls?â Rumsfeld asked.
âYouâd think it would be that simple, but that would mean Grousland would have to tell corporate to slow phosphate ore shipments from the mine in Polk County,â Brewster said. âDo you think heâd want to be responsible for lower quarterly profits?â
âI donât know. Did you ask him?â Rumsfeld asked.
âOf course,â Brewster said. âNo chance.â
âSell more fertilizer. Is that all they care about?â Rumsfeld asked.
Brewster shrugged his shoulders and continued to steer the truck along the shell road, looking for signs of problems.
It was only a matter of time until one of the leaks he had been fixing the past couple of months would crack open. The rain had been steady and, at times, heavy the whole summer. It was highly likely, too, as hurricane season neared its peak in August and September.
Weather forecasters always said the Sarasota-Manatee-Tampa Bay region was due for a big hurricane. Even if a Category 1 storm with a minimum of 74 mph winds came within 50 miles of the plant, the high winds and rain, with its additional weight against the walls, could cause a terrible disaster, Brewster believed.
For weeks, Grousland had been telling Brewster not to worry about the containment walls and to keep monitoring them. He argued that the odds were against a major hurricane striking the plant.
It was true that a major hurricane had not made landfall in the Tampa Bay area since the 1920s. In recent years, the worst was Hurricane Donna, which hit Sarasota-Manatee on Sept. 11, 1960, with 100 mph winds and dropped about 20 inches of rain.
Despite Grousland downplaying risks, Brewster monitored news from the National Weather Service for tropical waves developing in the eastern Atlantic or northern Caribbean Sea. Early July storms could be surprisingly ferocious in their intensity. He constantly worried one could become a major hurricane and threaten Bone Valley.
As Brewster drove along the east wall, looking up at the berm for leaks or other problems, he asked Rumsfeld to look down at the perimeter ditch for anything unusual. Two minutes later, Brewster was satisfied there were no other problems on the east wall.
âLetâs drive around to the north wall. Let me know if you see anything,â Brewster said.
After a few minutes, Rumsfeld saw it. âDo you see what I see? Another leak ahead. This wasnât here yesterday.â
âI see it,â said Brewster as he drove closer to the leak streaming across the perimeter road and into the ditch.
âLook at the top. Is that another bulge?â Rumsfeld said. The soil was dark and damp, just like the bulge on the top of the eastern wall.
âI was afraid of this. This looks almost as bad as the other one,â Brewster said as he surveyed the leak.
âWhat is causing this all of a sudden?â Rumsfeld asked.
âThere has been strong wave action inside the stack for weeks with the rains and wind,â said Brewster. âThe water is so high in the gypstack that it sloshes the sides, weakening it from the inside, pushing out the walls and creating fissures.â
âDan, letâs drive back to the office. Then you can take the truck and come back. I need to write my report, and I want you to take measurements here and inspect the west and south walls. If you see any leaks or bulges, document them with pictures and locations and report them to me immediately,â said Brewster as he quickly drove back to the office.
âWe will be working overtime until we get these leaks documented and, hopefully, fixed,â he said.
Brewster sat silent during the ride. He wondered what he would do if Grousland ordered a discharge to lower the water levels in the retention ponds surrounding the gypstack.
Protocol called for Manatee County to be notified if the company began to discharge phosphate wastewater. If Grousland refused, he would have to make the call.
A few minutes later, Rumsfeld dropped him off by the trailer office. Overall, it had been a bad morning. Brewster had a terrible feeling as he walked into the office.
He entered the office to confront Grousland, but no one was there. It felt as if the Granger manager was deliberately avoiding him.
For the next two hours, Brewster worked on his report. He knew Grousland would reject his recommendation that the plant be temporarily shut down while repairs were made to the gypstack and holding ponds.
But he had no other choice. All the signs of a significant breach were present: fissures, leaks, bulging walls, and a lack of storage space in the gypstack and holding ponds.
During times like this, Brewster felt like the proverbial Dutch boy holding his finger in the dike. But, this time, he thought, it might be too late to prevent a collapse and an environmental catastrophe.
In Bone Valley, by Jay B. Greene, Jack Kendallâs newspaper articles, targeting the phosphate plants in Florida in the early 1980âs, can put associatesâ lives and his in danger when he refuses to abandon his quest for the truth. Whistleblowers, afraid of their lives and careers, confide in Kendall but off the record, so he cannot print what he knows. Set in the lowlands of Southwest Floridaâs coast, just below the Sunshine Skyway, south to the Peace River and east to Bartow at Peace Riverâs mouth, hurricanes treat structures, including leaking gypsums, like matchsticks. âItâs going to be a Category 5, and itâs coming straight for usâ (220). Increasing the situationâs gravity, Kendall additionally confronts an unsolved vendetta: his wife Beckyâs death. âJack learned the Gecht had killed Becky and was now working for Pablo Escobar, Colombiaâs infamous âKing of Cocaineââ (190). In this third sequel of the Jack Kendall mystery series, the tale of corporate greed, deception, and looming environmental devastation and its consequences challenge residentsâ anxieties and Bobby Jackson and Kendallâs resilience for justice at all costs.
Not reading the previous Jack Kendall mysteries does not hinder Bone Valleyâs enjoyment but sparks an interest in the series. Bone Valley is dramatic prose: more dialogue than commentary. It advances quickly, relaying facts like the die-hard reporter Kendell does. Because one person passes data to another, repetition occurs. Yet, how each person reacts to the information and to the other characters overshadows the repetition by building realistic characters, creating intimacy with them, and bypassing a boring info-dump. In down-to-earth language, the dialogue connects the characters to the setting, a setting foreign to many people. ââ Mr. Brewster, what do you think would happen if the walls collapsed?â asked Rumsfeldâ [. . .] ââ It would be a catastrophe for this neighborhood. The runoff to the bay also would be highly destructiveââ (9).
However, when circumstances throw characters from their comfort zones, the action skyrockets. âTo be safe, Jack hurried down the five flights of stairs, cautiously opening the first-floor door. Moving silently, he positioned himself for a clear view of the security desk by the front doorâ (230).
Besides mystery seekers, environmentalists, criminologists, journalists, historians, and those fascinated with mental illness progression in the 1980âs will enjoy the read. The book ties up loose ends within it and from previous Jack Kendall mysteries. Take a slow, close read. Savor the details. Still, you will not see the ending coming.