Page 43 of Crash Course
"Good. Me too."
Two steps in, her heel caught on a pebble and she wobbled sideways, catching herself before she tipped over. Cruz halted, clasping her arm. "You okay?"
"I’m good. My heel caught."
Then he did it. He flashed that smile, drew his hand down her sleeve and cocked his arm out for her to grab hold. "Well, since you’re so unsteady on your feet, Ms. Randolph, allow me to help you inside."
"Ha! Nice try, pal. I can walk myself, if I so choose." That said, she slid her arm through his. "However, I wouldn’t mind an escort."
They made their way up the path, their pace leisurely. When was the last time she’d strolled anywhere? If this could be considered a stroll. They may as well have been going backward and she didn’t want it to end any time soon.
"This is nice," she said.
"Hell, yeah, it is. It feels . . . good." He stopped walking and faced her. "And the way things have been lately, that’s saying something. Thank you."
"I swear, Cruz, if we weren’t standing where everyone could see us, I’d suck face with you right here for the next hour."
He waggled his eyebrows in that playful way she mostly hated, but didn't mind at the moment.
"Lucky me," he said. "I’ll take a raincheck."
"I’ll anxiously await that moment."
"You’re a wicked woman, Cilla."
If she had her way, he’d learn just how wicked she could be.
"Buddy, you haven’t seen anything yet."
Minutes later,she stood across from Phin and Rohan at the conference table where Cruz rolled a chair out and then took the one beside her, all of them now occupying the same seats as the day before.
"No Zeke?"
"No," Cruz said. "He had another obligation tonight. It’s been Rohan and I all day anyway. Phin’s a bonus."
"Bet your ass," Phin said, and Cilla rolled her eyes.
"We spent the morning researching sludge."
What sludge had to do with this, she had no clue, but from what she knew of BARS, these people didn’t do anything without a purpose.
Cruz must have sensed her hesitation because he held up a hand. "There’s a method to our madness. We’re trying to figure out how massive amounts of PFOA gets into soil. That doesn’t just happen."
"Agreed," Cilla said. "It could be from the air or underground. Water from wells or streams."
"I’ll spare you the boring details of our research, but we found info on water reclamation companies giving sludge to farmers for fertilizer. Problem is, most humans have forever chemicals in their system."
In her logical mind, sludge as fertilizer made sense. Except, from what she knew of forever chemicals, they didn’t break down. They stuck.
Hard.
Could people be . . .
No.Just . . . hang on.Keeping her attention on Cruz, she opened her mouth, closed it a second while she forced her thoughts into alignment. "You’re telling me, when people have bowel movements, the chemicals are in theirstool?"
"That’s exactly what he’s telling you," Rohan said. "The water company treats the sewage, but the chemicals aren’t filtered out. They stay in the sludge that’s passed on to farmers."
Oh no.No. No. No.She knew where this was going. Felt it with every fiber—every nerve—inside her.
