The Peacemakers - pg6

scrunched his face trying to think of what it could be. Sure, he’d gotten a couple of write-ups but nothing serious. Suddenly a pang of fear rippled through him. He snapped his fingers. “Someone must have found my skiff,” he whispered to Benson.
          Benson looked surprised. “Do you really think so?”
          “That has to be it.”
          “I told you we should have hauled it out.” Benson shot back. “Leave no trace, remember?”
          “I thought burying it would be the same.”
          “Maybe you thought wrong.”
          Taggart thought for a moment. “You could access the central database.”
          “Chris, you know I don’t like doing that sort of stuff.”
          “Come on, Karl. I need to know.”
          Benson sighed. “Okay, I’ll do it.” After a few moments he had skirted past security and pulled up Taggart’s info. “According to this they found the skiff June seventh.”
          Taggart’s breathing became rapid. There’d be fines, for sure, and that would be just for trespassing on public lands. Leaving a wrecked skiff in the desert? Probably jail time or worse. He’d be lucky to ever race again. But then his fear turned to puzzlement. “That was almost two months ago. And they’re only now getting round to me?”
          “I dunno what to tell you, Chris. Wait…that’s odd.”