Page 120 of Crash Course
"Rohan was in the Theater when I got there. He got into the EPA files."
Oooh."He’s fast."
"He’sgood."
"Why do I feel like I won’t be happy when I read these?"
"Because you’re smart and have great instincts."
Had to love Cruz and his direct approach. "All righty then. Guess I’ll dive in."
She started at the top, skimming each paragraph.
Water contamination.
PFOA. PFAS.
Six thousand times higher than EPA recommendations.
Whoa.Panic roared, burning through her shoulders into her neck. She needed to stay focused. Keep her neutral, lawyer brain in charge.
Treat this like any other client file. And not her father. Who’d apparently been poisoning an entire town foryears.
How could he do this? After all the conversations they’d had. All the assurances he’d given her, he’d been lying. Straight to her face.
She shook it off and went back to the documents. Fifteen minutes later, she’d skimmed every page, flipping the last one on top of the others and lining up the corners before turning the stack over.
She sat back and peered at Cruz. "This is all from state EPA?"
"Yes. It’s all we’ve found so far."
"So, in summary, Randolph Industries has polluted the air, which, in turn contaminated the town’s drinking water. The EPA knew this, told Randolph to fix it, and left it up to them to handle. And then," she pointed at the stack, "Randolph executives told the EPA there were no effective techniques to clean up their mess and EPA said, ‘Gee, that’s too bad, but okay. We’ll allow you to poison an entire town.’"
Cruz winced. "Well,that’san exaggeration. From what we can tell, Randolph slipped through the cracks."
"They allowed my father’s company to self-police." She smacked at the documents on the table. "Did y’all download these?"
"We did."
"Good." Cilla stood, smoothed her slacks and adjusted her shirt sleeves. "I have to finish getting dressed. Before I leave, would you be able to put everything on a thumb drive for me? I don’t want them e-mailed."
Cruz lifted one hip, shoved a hand in his pocket and tossed a thumb drive on the table. "Already done. What are you thinking?"
"A couple of things. I have a contact at theCharlotte Times. I think she’ll be interested in this."
"Ballsy. You sure you want to do that? Considering it’s your dad."
"Oh, believe me. I’m aware. But I’ve been talking to him about the environment for years and he’s been lying." She smacked her hand against her chest. "Tome."
She paused, squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed, fighting the mix of rage and heartbreak building in her throat. She opened her eyes and met Cruz’s gaze. "It rips me clear open. I mean, what kind of man lies to his own daughter and knowingly poisons land and the people on it?"
At that, Cruz shook his head. "I’m sorry, Cilla."
"Me too. Something needs to be done. I’m over talking to him. It’s a waste of time I don’t have. I’ll call my contact at theTimesandthenI’ll send Kayla copies of everything for her EPA friend to see. I’m going to create as much chaos as I can."
On Monday afternoon,Cilla sat at a bistro table in the quaint coffee shop half a block from the massiveCharlotte Timesbuilding. She’d been here before when meeting with Allison Caplin, theTimes’s bulldog investigative reporter. Over the years, Allison had been equal parts foe and savior when public opinion might sway a case.
Glancing around, she saw that the place was barely half full. Cilla supposed peak hours came in the morning, not 3:45 in the afternoon. All evidenced by the shift change that took place fifteen minutes earlier when three employees left and only two came in.
