Page 71 of Crash Course
He paused where she sat in one of his guest chairs and bent low for their customary cheek peck. "Hi, sweetheart. This is a pleasant surprise. I thought you were in court today."
"I was supposed to be. Judge Nagle has been sick."
"That’s too bad. I’d heard he wasn’t at the club over the weekend."
Her father’s list of contacts ran far and wide. Including judges he golfed with.
"I think he’s better. In his absence we worked out a plea deal."
"That’s my girl. Never wasting time."
She watched as he cornered his desk, slid his suit coat off and hung it on the stand in the corner. Then he went to work unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them. His comfort mode when settling in for hours behind the desk. Sometimes he’d ditch the tie. Today, he left it and Cilla assumed more meetings required the full suit-and-tie look.
Finally, he claimed his seat, quickly checked a stack of notes in front of him and gave Cilla his attention. "What brings you by?"
"I won’t keep you." She held up the documents Cruz had given her. "I have something for you."
"My girl looks so serious." He held out a hand. "What have you got there?"
During her fifteen minutes of waiting, she’d read through the pages again and opted to hold back the e-mails. Sharing those meant answering questions on how she got them. Not going there. Hacking would take Dad to DEFCON 1.
Prior to Dad entering, she’d folded the e-mails and tucked them under her thigh. Now, bracing herself by pinning her shoulders back, she handed over the toxicology report.Here we go."This is a toxicology report on the Tate property."
Dad’s eyebrows drew together, the dark hairs forming almost a straight line across his forehead while he stared at her, completely ignoring the report. "Why do you have it?"
"After seeing that initial report and discussing it with you, I had concerns."
Finally, he glanced down at the pages. "What concerns?"
"Legal concerns. You’ve always told me you consider me part of your legal team. I take pride in you trusting me. After reading the report Paul left on the plane and then our subsequent conversation, I'm worried you might not have the entire picture."
Dad dropped the report, the pages floating to the desktop while he nearly singed her with a fiery glare that sent her pulse slamming.
"Paul has been my right hand for years."
Easing out a breath, Cilla lifted her chin. Just a conversation. That’s all this was. But heaven help her if Dad lost his shit on her. She’d have to absorb his wrath until he worked through the anger. His temper had a pattern. An instant spark that burned hot and fast and then extinguished itself.
She simply had to ride it out.
"I know you trust him," Cilla said. "However, he’s not family. As protective as you are of me, I’m equally protective of you. So, when my legal radar pings, I do something. Did Paul tell you he visited me this morning?"
"He mentioned it."
Dad knew.
It hit her like a runaway bus. He knew she’d been in Morgan and hadn’t bothered to call her? To give her a heads-up, a minute to prepare herself for Paul’s questions. And threats. Furthermore, why hadn’t Dad been the one to speak to her?
None of it made sense.
She shook it off. Time later to mull it all over. Now, she focused on her next words. "I went to Morgan yesterday and collected soil samples from the Tate farm and the other two properties beside the plant."
Dad’s gaze narrowed, his cheeks flushing slightly, the soon-to-be explosion simmering. "Who told you to do that?"
"No one. I wanted answers on the amount of PFOA in the soil and the only way to ensure the test's chain of custody was to take the samples myself."
"It’s not your business."
"You’remy business, Dad."
