Faith and Energy

By Eric Myerholtz

When Rob Romano discovers some unsettling information regarding his employer, his curiousity unearths a decades-old plot approaching its catatrophic climax. Opposing the scope and influence of the power players in the energy industry and having now placed himself in harm's way, Rob provides a trail of clues to allow his sister and best friend to unravel the mystery in his absence. Can they derail the diabolically destructive plan designed to forever weaken the United States?

A small terrorist faction is working in the American southwest at the behest of Jacob Robinson, a high ranking member of the U.S. Department of Energy. Robinson has abandoned all pretenses of ethics in attempting to realize his dream of an oil-free America. Rob stumbles upon the ongoing covert operation Mr. Robinson has designed and, after the almost sudden death of the one police officer to whom he confided his theory, Mr. Romano calls on his faith in God to guide him. He lays out a path of information for the only people left he can trust, his sister Andria and best friend Brian Maddox, using the Bible as his compass. Once these two realize Rob has disappeared, they leap into action, with Brian enlisting his co-worker Mitch Bartter and others to aid in the search. A posse forms, racing across Phoenix to piece together the cryptic messages Rob has provided and attempting to find their friend before tragedy strikes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477244623

Eric Myerholtz

Eric Myerholtz is a CPA working for a successful, privately-owned company in northwest Ohio. Similar to his first novel, The Liberty Group, he combines political debate of current issues and details of American history, reprising many of the same characters and again using Phoenix as the setting. Faith and Energy provides thought-provoking dialogue not only on political issues, but also on the role faith plays in everyday life. The father of three, he stresses again in this project what he considers life’s important aspects: friends, family, faith, love and happiness.

Book preview

Chapter 1

R OB WEARILY ENTERED HIS SMALL, one-bedroom apartment, taking the time to quickly secure the four different locks on his door, three of which had been installed in the last six weeks. Before turning on the light, he walked to the window and slightly drew back the pulled shade, scanning the street below for any sign of activity. Noticing nothing unusual, he grabbed a beer from the kitchen, picked up his Bible from the coffee table and plopped down in his recliner. After sitting in the dark for a few minutes, he clicked on the television and, finding nothing he really wanted to watch, flipped to one of the twenty four hour news channels. A report about the President’s energy policy was playing, with excerpts from several of his speeches. Rob recognized the current clip as the State of the Union address from several months previous.

"With more research and incentives, we can break our dependence on oil with biofuels, and become the first country to have one million electric vehicles on the road by 2015. We need to get behind this innovation. And to help pay for it, I’m asking Congress to eliminate the billions in taxpayer dollars we currently give to oil companies. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’re doing just fine on their own. So instead of subsidizing yesterday’s energy, let’s invest in tomorrow’s."

Rob turned off the television and threw the remote into the empty chair next to him. Why does this guy hate oil companies so much? he questioned out loud. Rob Romano had worked as an energy researcher for 20 years, specializing in oil exploration and extraction. The Phoenix-based Western Energy Corporation had now been his employer for over fifteen years and he had steadily progressed up the corporate ladder, recently becoming a vice-president. Irony has a sense of humor though, Rob thought remembering his current dire predicament could be traced back to the day he had been informed of his promotion.

He closed his eyes and replayed the highlights of that specific afternoon; a celebration lunch in his honor, the collision with company controller Mike Goodman exiting the elevator and most importantly the documents that mistakenly were in Rob’s possession following that encounter. Just about every action Rob had taken in the six weeks since that accident had been related to those documents and what possible implications they contained. He gripped his Bible even tighter and said a prayer.

A few minutes later Rob finally opened his eyes and went to the kitchen, setting his empty beer bottle in the recycling bin while still holding his Bible. He grabbed a sheet of paper and pen, jotted down a note and attached it to the refrigerator with a magnet. He took another beer and walked back to his recliner, sat down and closed his eyes once more, going over the items he had laid out for his friends—and his potential enemies. Was the note he just wrote the final piece necessary? Had he covered all the bases? Whether Rob had or not, the time available to prepare had come to an end. Without warning, his nose and mouth were covered by a cloth. Rob attempted in vain to pull the intruder’s arm away from his face, but the man’s strength was too much to overcome and the substance on the cloth quickly numbed his senses. Rob fell unconscious, his Bible dropping to the floor. When he would awake, Rob’s nightmare would truly begin.

Chapter 2

B RIAN MADDOX WALKED INTO THE Arizona Republic this Wednesday morning feeling great! The late spring weather in Phoenix was tremendous, he had never enjoyed his job as a sports reporter more and his arm felt the best it had in years. Brian had been a top pitching prospect while in college, but torn elbow ligaments erased any shot he had at a professional baseball career. In fact, his elbow had caused him discomfort on and off over the years, even after three surgeries. For about the last year, however, his arm had steadily improved and he even let loose a few fastballs while playing catch with his friend Rob Romano a few weeks ago.

Brian waived hello to his fellow Republic co-worker Mitch Bartter from across the hall as he headed to his desk in the sports department. Folding his 6' 6" frame into his chair, he began perusing the internet for any sports stories he may have missed from the previous evening. He sometimes still shook his head in disbelief at the thought that he was paid to watch and report on sports. In the last few months Brian had even been provided the opportunity to write opinion pieces on certain sports issues, which he was enjoying immensely. His friend Mitch wrote political editorials and had provided a few tips. Brian had a deadline the following week for an article on the labor strife in the NFL and he was just about to work on it when his phone rang.

Brian Maddox, how can I help you?

Mr. Maddox, the soft, feminine voice began, my name is Andria Romano. I believe you know my brother Roberto.

I’ve heard him called quite a few names actually, but never Roberto. Yes, Rob is a very good friend of mine. It’s a pleasure finally talk to you; Rob gushes about his younger sister.

It’s nice to talk to you too. I know everyone calls him Rob. My brother has never really embraced his Italian heritage. Actually most of my friends call me Andi. You haven’t talked to my brother recently have you?

Not recently, no. I saw him over a week ago. We got together for a while. Nothing since then though.

I’m really concerned. I know you are one of his best friends and I was hoping you had seen him. I’ve called him several times in the last week and he has not answered at all. I don’t really call him that often, so I when I do he is usually very quick to respond.

What do you mean you don’t call him often? I thought you two were close.

It’s a long story that I really don’t want to go into right now. We’re not as close as we once were. I assumed he would have mentioned it to you.

He talks about you quite a bit, usually bragging about what you are doing. I wouldn’t have guessed that you two aren’t . . . , Brian broke off, not sure how to complete his thought. Have you tried contacting him at Western? Brian asked.

Yes. They told me he sent an e-mail last week indicating he was taking a vacation and would be out for several weeks. If he had any plans like that I’m sure he would have told me. Rob always lets me know when he is heading out of town and he definitely didn’t say anything about a vacation.

I assume you have tried his cell and e-mail as well?

More times than I can count. We have talked maybe twice in the last month and he seemed a little off to me. I don’t know if you noticed, but I could tell he had something on his mind. Would it be possible for you to meet me at his apartment? I’ve banged on the door a few times, but I haven’t gone in yet. I know it sounds silly, but I want someone to be with me when I do that. Andria could feel her voice crack slightly. Brian looked at his watch and then briefly at his computer calendar.

That’s not silly at all and it is absolutely no problem. I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes. I’m sure everything is fine.

Thanks Brian. I really appreciate it. Andria hung up feeling that everything was definitely not fine.

*    *    *    *    *

As Brian drove to Rob’s apartment, his mind replayed the last time he had seen his friend. They had met at a local high school ball diamond, played catch and threw batting practice to each other. They sat and talked about their jobs for a while before heading to a Buffalo Wild Wings for lunch. Brian did think his friend had seemed a little distant, but Rob had indicated he was just dealing with some frustrating issues at work.

Brian parked and walked up to Rob’s apartment. Andria was waiting for him and although Brian had seen pictures of his friend’s sister, her beauty still caught him off-guard. She looked every bit of her Italian background, with strikingly black hair and a dark complexion. As he approached her and looked into her brown eyes, Brian fumbled with his introduction, reaching out his hand.

Hi—I—uh I’m Brian, he stammered.

Yeah—I assumed, Andria replied, smiling. There aren’t too many guys your height walking around. Thanks for coming. Please call me Andi. She reached into her purse and pulled out a key. I’ve knocked several times while I was waiting, but there was obviously no answer. He gave me a key when I moved to Phoenix last year. I don’t know why he is still in this small apartment. As much as he earns, Rob could buy several houses. Hopefully he left a note or some clue as to what he is up to.

Andi inserted the key and turned the lock. The moment the door swung open they both knew something was terribly wrong. Rob’s apartment had been ransacked as completely as possible. A small tornado could have ripped through the place and it would not have looked worse.

Oh my heavens! Andi gasped as she instinctively wrapped her hands around Brian’s arm. What can this mean? Rob? Roberto? She started calling out.

Brian was trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Andi released his arm and started running through the apartment looking for her brother. Brian remained calm while she checked the bedroom and bathroom. The kitchen and living room were visible from the doorway and he scanned the debris and over-turned furniture, hoping not to see a body lying in a heap. Andi came back into the room, shaking her head to indicate there was no sign of him.

How long has it been since you talked to him? Brian asked.

It was a couple weeks ago; he called me at work. He couldn’t really talk long and seemed very preoccupied, but he always tries to check up on me.

Andi, we need to call the police, Brian stated as he pulled out his cell phone.

You’re right. You do that while I look around some more.

Twenty minutes later two detectives were at the apartment asking questions that neither Brian nor Andria could answer. Did Rob have any enemies? Could they think of anyone who would do this to his apartment? Was anything missing? Did they have any idea where he was now? After about half an hour, Brian could tell that Andria had had enough. He escorted her over to a corner of the apartment where they sat on the floor while the police completed their sweep of the place.

We’ll find him. Brian said softly, almost as much to himself as to Andria.

He knew something was about to happen, Andria answered, a certain confidence in her voice.

What do you mean?

He left us a message. Well, he left me a message referring to you.

What are you talking about?

I found it just as the police arrived. It was hidden in plain sight. Rob always calls me ‘bassetta’; he has since we were kids. In Italian, that is how you refer to someone as a ‘shrimp’. He left a slip of paper on the refrigerator that looked like a shopping list, with ‘SHRIMP’ written at the top. Look at it. Brian reviewed the list. Under SHRIMP was a bullet list reading Garlic, Eggs, Tomatoes, Milk, Apples, Detergent, Spaghetti.

This is a message?

Read down the first letter of each item, Andria explained.

G-E-T-M-A-D-S. Get Mads. I see it now. I’m impressed you saw that on the list. You knew everyone calls me Mads, huh?

Rob has referred to you as Mads in the past and he always used to leave little puzzles like this for me when we were growing up. He must have assumed I would come looking for him at some point. The question now is why you. Did he tell you anything important recently? Do you have any idea what he might be involved in?

The police had become increasingly interested in what Andria and Brian were discussing, slowly moving toward the two. Brian looked up at one of the officers. Do you have all you need from us?

If you do not have anything more to tell us, then yes. We have contact information for both of you and we’ll be in touch if we need something more. We’ll do our best ma’am, but our hands are tied a bit on this one, the officer said to Andria.

What do you mean by that? Won’t you be following this case through? Andria could feel her frustration with the situation rising. She had a temper and it was about to be unleashed.

Well, there is no sign of forced entry and nothing evident of foul play.

Look at the mess around you! Andria exclaimed through clenched teeth. Brian again found her hand with his, trying to comfort her.

Well that is not really proof of anything, the policeman explained. For all we know your brother was mad or drunk, trashed his place and headed off to some beach to relax for a few weeks. Without evidence of a break-in, blood on something, a ransom note or something along those lines to point us one way or another, we really have nowhere to go.

Don’t talk about my brother like he is some sort of college party animal! I can’t believe this! Andria screamed. Brian gave her hand a squeeze, thanked the officer, and led Rob’s sister out of the apartment. As he began to talk, his steady voice seemed to calm Andi instantly.

He’s right Andi. They don’t know what could have possibly happened. We don’t even know. Do you want to share your shopping list with them?

No, I’m sure they will just laugh at me. Let’s get out of here and see what we can figure out together. Andi was almost surprised at the easy feeling she had with Brian.

After the police had left, Andi locked the door and the couple walked down the stairs and on to the street, heading toward their cars. Mads had been racking his brain trying to think of his last conversation with Rob.

So any idea of why he said to find you? Andria asked.

That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. As I said earlier, the last time we got together we played a little catch and had some lunch.

Did he give you anything?

Mads thought for a moment. He me gave his lunch receipt from Buffalo Wild Wings. It had a survey with it. I told him I always forget to use those things; silly really because you get free wings if you fill them out. He said he knew I would probably forget, but for me to take it anyway and put in my wallet. He said I would find a use for it.

Let’s see it.

Mads fumbled through the numerous plastic cards and other slips of paper until he found the receipt. He flipped it over in his hands and Rob had indeed left a message on the back, but nothing that Brian was expecting.

What’s it say?

Date and reference of the scapegoat, Mads replied, a quizzical look across his face. Is this his handwriting?

Yes it is. What in the world can that mean?

This doesn’t refer to another childhood game, like the shopping list?

None that I remember.

They both stared at the slip of paper for a few minutes. We obviously need some help, Mads stated matter-of-factly, and I have an idea of someone to ask. This guy owes me some serious favors anyhow. Brian hesitated for a second, looking at his watch. It was almost noon already. The strange part about these clues, the shopping list and this receipt, is that it means Rob knew he was into something . . . something . . . sinister for lack of a better term. Why didn’t he just tell us?

Maybe he figured the less we knew the better, Andi replied.

Well, let’s call my friend to meet us for lunch and see if he can shed some light. Are you holding up okay? Mads asked, noticing the extreme look of concern on Andria’s face.

I’m frightened to death! These little clues are actually a small relief though. It tells me Roberto must have had a plan; he knew something might happen. He’s the smartest guy I know. I’m going to have positive thoughts that everything will be fine.

Well, the police officer may be partially right. He could just be hiding and not wanting to contact you for fear of being found. Let’s see what we can piece together.

Sounds good.

*    *    *    *    *

Rob Romano awoke and for just a split second forgot where he was. It all came back to him when he saw the cheap hotel room interior around him. His captors had moved him here three days ago, after questioning him nonstop about what he had been working on. Rob felt his swollen eye and winced at the pain in his ribs as he sat up. These guys had tried to beat some information out of him as well. Upon tossing his apartment, they had found the computers files labeled Energy Breakthrough and Unlimited Possibilities. Rob had successfully erased all the pertinent information a few days earlier, but these people were not going to relent until they knew everything.

Thus far Rob had seen four different people, none of whom had used names. One of the men, clearly the leader of this little group, had been integral in Rob’s investigation work after his run-in with Mike Goodman. Some digging and observing had led Rob to learn the man’s name was Jalil and he was a consultant on Middle-Eastern affairs for many companies involved in oil exploration and generation. Rob was certain this man was the key player here in Phoenix and was most likely assisting in the events he surmised were being planned.

Two of the other men in the room were thickly-built and Rob guessed they were of Eastern European decent. They had done most of the attempted persuading with their fists, enjoying it a little too much for Rob’s taste. The fourth person appeared to be American and seemed more of a gopher for the leader. The two muscle men were in the hotel room with him now. Rob glanced out the window and it appeared to be late morning. His roommates had kept him up late the previous night with their questioning.

What’s for breakfast? I’m famished, he said as he stood up and scanned for some food in the room. Rob had managed to maintain his sarcastic humor throughout this ordeal. It was his way of keeping himself sane in this untenable situation. No answer from either of the bookends; they just stared at him with the smirks they always seemed to wear. Rob walked gingerly to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and washed his face. When he came out a plate of fruit was waiting for him.

Thanks guys! You’re so thoughtful. Rob unpeeled a banana and began to eat. So, is this a goodbye breakfast since I’ve told you everything I have been working on?

I think we both know that is not the truth. The voice came from the corner and it belonged to the Middle-Eastern leader. He had arrived along with his American lackey while Rob was in the bathroom. You had some visitors to your apartment today, your sister and a tall black man we know to be your friend Brian Maddox. Rob did not react, continuing to eat his fruit.

I wonder if they know anything more. If you had a breakthrough of any kind regarding energy, I’m sure you would have told someone.

Look, if you want to have a real conversation, I will need to have your name. Rob demanded, trying to sound as casual as possible.

You’re correct. The pleasantries should be observed. You can call me Jalil. Those two are Vladimir and Gregorovich, Jalil motioned to the muscle. And my assistant here is Bosworth. Now it’s your turn. Please tell us what you erased from your computer.

I’ve told you everything. I have been an engineer working in oil and gas for Western Energy for well over a decade. Most of my work was research oriented. Nothing special.

What about the empty file titled ‘Unlimited Possibilities’? Jalil probed.

That was a personal project I was working on. It had something to do with a children’s book I had thought about related to the Bible. Anyhow, I never finished it and I cleared all the files months ago to free up memory.

We both know that is not true. I do have some expertise on my side as well. We have reviewed your computer more thoroughly than you know. What was really in there? Please don’t make me ask again. Jalil pulled a small revolver out of his pocket as he asked this, setting it down on the table with the business end pointed right at Rob’s heart. Rob stirred up all the courage he could muster; time to return the volley.

Okay, there was more there. But last week I made ten copies of the information and gave ten separate envelopes to an attorney. If that lawyer does not hear from me by the end of this week, he has instructions to mail those copies to news sources throughout the country.

You need a better poker face. I don’t believe you.

Are you willing to take that chance? Rob asked, attempting to scowl even with his swollen face. Jalil studied his prisoner for a few seconds.

There will be time to deal with this later. We’ll follow your friends for a little while. See if you slipped anything to them.

It’s a fool’s errand to follow my sister and friend. I usually talk to them almost daily and obviously I haven’t now for over a week. I’m sure they came to my apartment looking for me because they are concerned. If what I know was dangerous enough for me to give packages to attorneys, why would I endanger them as well?

You have a point, but we’ll keep a close eye on them just the same.

Rob said nothing, instead reaching for another piece of fruit. Jalil snatched the tray from the table.

Maybe we have been too easy on you. I think you have had enough food for a while. Jalil handed the tray to Vladimir and turned back to Rob. Make no mistake my American friend—we will accomplish our goals.

Rob did not reply but silently said a prayer asking God to help ensure that those goals would never come to fruition.

*    *    *    *    *

Mitch Bartter walked into the restaurant looking for his tall friend. Mitch and Brian ate here quite often and the hostess greeted Mitch by name, pointing in the direction to where Mads was sitting. Brian was always easy to spot in public, his height a dead give-away, even when seated. Mitch was surprised to see an attractive woman sitting with him already.

Hey Brian. How are you? I’m Mitch Bartter. Mitch said, holding out his hand toward Andria.

This is Andria, Mads responded. I won’t beat around the bush. We really could use your help. Brian went on to describe the events of the morning thus far. Andria had initially not wanted to share all the information with Mitch, but Mads had convinced her Mitch could be much more help with a complete understanding of the situation.

Do you know what ‘date and reference of the scapegoat’ would mean? Andi finally asked. Mitch thought for a few seconds.

"Well, I remember there was a book written in the 1950’s by Daphne Du Maurier titled The Scapegoat."

What was it about? Mads asked.

I’ve never read the book myself, but I vaguely remember an article I saw about it recently. If memory serves, it focuses on an Englishman and a Frenchman who happen to meet one night and realize they are so similar that they could pass for one another. The Frenchman then steals the identity of the Englishman, leaving that character no choice but to assume the life of the Frenchman.

How could that relate to Rob? Andi questioned. I know he reads a lot, but I’ve never heard him mention that book.

What does your brother do? Mitch asked.

He works as an oil and gas researcher.

And he’s never brought this subject up before? Both Andi and Brian shook their heads.

Does he have any other interests?

Dude, Rob is more like you, always reading and studying.

What subjects?

Energy of course, Brian answered. All sources, all angles of it and he is quite political as well, just not on par with you. It’s more of an obsession than a profession.

He is a huge Bible nut as well. Andria chimed in, rolling her eyes.

I take it you don’t share that interest with him? Mitch asked.

No, not in the least. Truthfully I have always had my doubts about some of the items in . . .

Wait! Mitch interrupted. Noticing the surprised look on Andria’s face at his outburst, he quickly apologized. I’m sorry but something just jogged in my memory. Hold on a second. Mitch pulled out his cell phone, dialed a number and set it to speaker mode as it rang. He placed the phone on the table.

What’s going on Bartter, Al Miller answered, calling to tell me it’s another chamber of commerce day in Phoenix. We’ve had nothing but rain and 50 degrees here in Ohio all spring. Mitch and Al had been college roommates at Bowling Green State University in Ohio. Mitch had migrated to Arizona while Al had lived his entire life in northwest Ohio, working as an accountant for a private manufacturing company.

Hey Al—how are you? How’re Lisa and the kids?

Lisa is as beautiful as ever and the kids are great. How about Marie and your three?

They’re fine. Al, I obviously have you on speaker. Remember Mads? He’s here as is a friend of his named Andria.

Hello to both of you.

We’ve got a question that might be up your alley. Isn’t the term ‘scapegoat’ actually a biblical reference—maybe old testament?

Yes, Al replied, leaning back in his office chair, searching his mind. Leviticus I believe, his biblical memory coming back to him.

In what context is it mentioned?

The scapegoat is in reference to the Day of Atonement.

What was that? Andria quizzed, feeling they were on the right track if the clue was biblical, given her brother’s obsession with his faith. Al went into teaching mode.

On this day the high priest would, among other things, cast lots over two goats. The first goat was sacrificed; then the high priest would place his hands on the head of the remaining goat, confessing the sins of everyone over it. Someone else would then lead the goat into the wilderness and release it. This ‘scapegoat’ was removing the sin of the people.

How often did a Day of Atonement occur? Mitch asked.

Once a year, on the tenth day of the seventh month, Al replied.

I thought you were an accountant? You sound more like a professor. Mads commented.

Oh he’s reading it off the internet, Mitch joked. You don’t know the chapter and verse of this do you? You say it was in Leviticus?

Hold on. Al reached on top of the credenza in his office and pulled down an old, worn Bible. He flipped to Leviticus and found the subject matter. Looks like the scapegoat reference is Chapter 16, verses 21 and 22."

That’s what we needed. Thanks Al—talk to you later. Mitch clicked off his phone.

Date of the scapegoat would be the tenth day of the seventh month, so July 10th? Mads questioned. What does July 10th do for anyone?

It might be more literal. The tenth day of the seventh month could mean a number, possibly one-zero-seven, or even one-zero-zero-seven. Mitch added.

It’s Rob and it’s biblical, which means it is absolutely literal. He and his Bible. Andi said disdainfully. The look on Mitch’s face made Andria feel the need to elaborate. As I started to say a few minutes ago, I have at times doubted the validity of items in the Bible. My brother, on the other hand, has no doubts. This has led to more than a little tension between the two of us for more significant reasons than I care to go into right now. Anyhow, what are we being told—710, 107 or 1007?

Any of those numbers mean anything to you two? Mitch asked. Does Rob have a post office pox? Both Mads and Andi were silent. No ideas on the reference either—Leviticus 16: 21-22? I guess we will need more information then. Any ideas on where we could look for that?

We? You’re going to help us? Mads asked his friend.

Hey, after everything you did for me with my Liberty Group fiasco a couple years ago, this is the least I can do. Have either of you been to his office?

No, Andria replied, up until a few hours ago I had hoped to find Rob at home, or at least a note in his apartment indicating what he was doing. But that’s a good idea; we should try his office. The three of them contemplated the morning’s events for a few minutes while picking at their food when Mitch finally broke the silence.

If you believe that someone other than Rob trashed his apartment, then I would expect they have already been to his office. However, Rob obviously managed to leave you a message once, so his office is definitely worth a look. The after-lunch itinerary had been decided.

*    *    *    *    *

He is not telling me everything. Of that I am certain. Jalil was on his cell phone, driving back to his office.

Do you think he could possibly know all that much? We are pretty good at hiding our footprints. We’ve been doing it for years without being detected. This voice was deep and obviously a person older than Jalil. The two had never met face-to-face, but had been contacts for several years now. All Jalil knew was this man wielded an impressive amount of power, at least from what he had heard and personally witnessed from afar.

You’re right, but I hate uncertainty, Jalil answered. We know he has been digging around several different peripheries of our activities, but never close enough to warrant action until last week. Once we discovered he was also freelancing with development of a new source of energy, we felt the need to detain him. We will eventually find out what he knows and what he is doing.

You’re sure his office is clean; no more information there?

Our inside guy tells us he checked it himself. Nothing more to be found.

And you are certain you learned about all his activities? You’ve covered all the bases?

"He really seems married to his work, with very little involvement elsewhere. We tracked his movements for six weeks and work and church were about it. There seems to be no other interests. We have thoroughly swept his apartment, office and car. Heck, we even looked at where he eats lunch.