Page 157 of Crash Course
"Not a problem."
"This is her. I’ll put her on speaker." She tapped the screen. "Hi."
"Hey," Kayla’s voice filled the room. "How’re you feeling?"
"Better today. Thanks. What’s up?"
"Things are moving. I have an update for you."
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Cilla met Cruz’s eye.Things moving meant getting beyond this nightmare and figuring out her new normal. Without her dad.
With Cruz.
"I like movement," Cilla said. "Just so you know, Cruz is here and you’re on speaker."
"Good. Everyone will be in the loop. I spoke to my EPA contact first thing this morning. She’s at the federal level, but has spoken with someone at state EPA. Your investigative reporter is shaking things up. Asking questions they have no answers for. My contact said the story will run either tomorrow or the next day. They’re, as we speak, scrambling to get organized. Based on information provided by Allison Caplin, they’ve opened a new investigation into Randolph Industries. Not only in North Carolina. All the plants around the country."
Cilla set the phone on the arm of the chair and leaned forward, resting her head in her hands. "Wow."
"I’m sorry, Cilla." Kayla said, her voice softer, more sympathetic than the direct lobbyist Cilla had experienced before.
Cruz reached over, touched Cilla’s knee. "It needs to be done. Someone has to stop them. You did the right thing."
Whether from the concussion or the thought of outing Randolph Industries, sickness pooled in her stomach.
A vision of a bald Brittney Tate popped into Cilla’s mind. How many other Brittneys might be out there?
You did the right thing.
Still, it stung. Weeks ago, she and Dad were a united front. Always having each other’s backs. At that point, she’d never have imagined betraying her father. Then again, she wouldn’t have imagined him betraying her the way he had.
She lifted her head and sat back again. "I know," she told Cruz. "It’s just hard."
"If this EPA investigation goes the way I think it will," Kayla said, "you’ll be out of it. You may have called it when you said North Carolina could sue them. The AG loves nothing more than a spectacle and rumor has it he’s eyeing the governor’s mansion. He’ll take any opportunity to put himself on the news."
Great. Not only had she blown the whistle on her father, she’d inadvertently given a politician enough ammunition to crucify Randolph Industries in the press.
Banner day.
Cilla sighed. "I know this is good news. It sucks for me personally, but I understand it had to be done."
"Cilla," Kayla said, "you have my undying respect. Plenty of people, I can rattle off ten that I know of, would have done nothing. They sit back and watch their profits soar while people are sick and dying. It’s disgusting."
"Yeah. I couldn’t do that. That crosses the line."
"Oh, hang on." Kayla broke away, speaking to someone on the other end, her voice muffled as if she’d pulled the phone from her ear. "I'm back. Sorry for the interruption. I have to take another call. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else."
"Of course," Cilla said. "And, Kayla, thank you. For everything."
"You’re welcome. We’ve got this. Get some rest."
Leaving the phone on the chair’s arm, Cilla tapped the screen, sat back and eyed Cruz.
"I’m sorry," he said.
"Me too. It shouldn’t have gotten this far. My father knew people were sick and did nothing." She peered out the window at the bright sunshine, then came back to Cruz. "When you called, you said something about lunch. Can we do that? I’d love to get out."
