Page 29 of Crash Course
Phin shrugged. "Could they be buying all of them?"
"Cruz and I discussed that. It’s possible. I didn’t get that far in my research. The problem is, based on the toxicology report I found, the farm is contaminated with PFOA."
"Cruz brought us up to speed on that," Zeke said.
"Good. Last night, my father shared two other toxicology reports with me. To say the reports are in conflict would be an understatement. According to last night's reports—one test was performed by Dad’s internal lab, the other by an independent—the PFOA levels are within EPA guidelines. My father is having the property retested."
"Okay," Zeke said. "I’m still not sure how we can help you."
"I want to get to the truth about this property and why, if the levels are indeed that high, the reports are so varied. If the report I found is correct, the levels are toxic and my father has no business buying that property."
"But," Phin said, "he knows there’s an issue. You said he’s having the property retested."
Cilla nodded. "My concern is whether or not he’s being misled by the executive handling the purchase. I can’t say that without proof. That’s where y’all come in. You have capabilities that far exceed what my investigator can do. Plus, as I said, the NDA protects us. Can you help me figure out if this property is contaminated?"
Cruz swung to Zeke. This wasn’t exactly what they did, but Cilla was right. With Rohan’s hacking skills, there was no telling what they might find.
Although, Ro had that honor streak that wouldn’t let him hack into anything unless he had a solid reason.
Polluting the environment should fit the bill.
"It’s research," Phin mused. "Between Rohan and Cruz, we could knock it out pretty quick."
Cilla met each of their gazes and then landed on Zeke. "I’d appreciate whatever help you can give me. I took photos of the report before I gave it to my father and have copies of the other reports Dad gave me last night and some proprietary files I discovered. Full disclosure, I found those while snooping. My father doesn’t know I have them. That’s how I discovered the daycare. Children are playing beside what might be a toxic wasteland."
"Shit," Cruz said.
"Exactly," Cilla said. "This farm might be poisoning children."
6
After securing a commitment from BARS,Cilla had the pleasure of being escorted to her car by Cruz.
Outside, late afternoon sun dipped closer to the mountain’s peak and Cilla stopped at her car door to take in her surroundings and . . . breathe. On an easy day, she worked twelve hours. "Relentlessly ambitious" was how a reporter had described her the second time she landed on theCharlotte Lawyermagazine cover.
At the time, she found the observation complimentary. What could be wrong with ambition? As time flew by and her biological clock continued to tick, she could list a handful of conflicts. The first being a total lack of personal life. Sure, there’d been men she’d dated, but—meh—the pull had never been strong enough to keep her from her professional goals.
Lately, with said clock ticking and the idea of having a family of her own bearing down hard, she’d thought maybe, just maybe, some work-life balance might be in order.
Perhaps spending time with the man beside her might be a good start. She turned to Cruz. "It’s stunning here. Just breathing gives clarity."
"For sure. Being surrounded by nature slows the brain." He shrugged. "At least for me."
"It’s the perfect way to think of it." She gestured to the door leading to their offices. "So, what happens next?"
"My mom handles all the paperwork. It’ll at least be a contract and—brace yourself—probably another NDA. You should have it tomorrow. Then we’ll dig in. Do you honestly think your father is being duped by this executive?"
"I’m not sure what I think. All I know is my father would never knowingly buy a piece of property that might get him slapped with massive EPA fines. More importantly, I’m worried about those kids. I mean, a daycare?"
He reached for her, lightly touching her arm and sending an instant flow of calm breezing upward. Cruz Blackwell. He had an energy about him. Not Zen so much, but cool and self-possessed.
"I hear you," he said. "We’ll figure it out. You heading back to Charlotte?"
"No. My trial is in Asheville. I’m staying in a hotel for a few days."
He cocked his head and smiled. "Lucky me. Since you don’t have too long of a ride, there’s a place in town the locals love. Triple B. They make a wicked burger. You interested?"
Typically, she’d beg off. Too much to do. Files and depositions to read. Payroll and expenses to approve. Never-ending e-mails.
