Page 65 of Crash Course
"Does Cilla have anything to do with it?"
Maybe. "No."
Rohan laughed. "Okay. Sure. Whatever, asshole."
At that Cruz smiled. Had to love his brothers. "I like her. She’s wicked smart."
Unlike other aspects of his life, she made him feel things he didn’t want to numb with booze. Dang, what a thought. That he’d let himself slip that far into the habit just to numb himself.
Numbing himself.
As if there weren’t better ways to deal with his emotional rubble.
"She’d be good for you," Rohan said. "She won’t take your shit or get insulted when you say Cruz-like things."
"Right? I thought the same thing."
Rohan waved it off. "Whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re cutting back. I was going to talk to you about it, but hadn't figured out how to start the conversation."
"Zeke sure as shit figured it out.Thatwas humiliating."
"It got you thinking, though."
Sure did. Having had enough of this little analysis of his drinking habits, Cruz pointed at Rohan’s laptop. "What are you working on?"
"I had an idea on getting into Randolph’s files."
"And?"
He flipped the folder open and handed Cruz a sheet of paper. "E-mails. It was painfully easy. Someone should speak to Cilla’s father about cybersecurity."
Cruz perused the e-mail dated two weeks ago and let out a soft whistle. "According to this, the current owners have taken no sludge."
"Correct. But the previous owners did. This Paul guy had someone go back and look."
"Which means they suspect there’s PFOA."
"Fair assumption. Why would they go back and look otherwise?"
Cruz handed the document back to Ro. "Abundance of caution?"
"If you say so."
Cruz didn’t believe it. Two days ago, before meeting a little girl with cancer, maybe he’d have bought that, but now? The child with cancer combined with that toxicology report? Too much.
"I’m laying odds," Cruz said, "those samples come back positive for PFOA."
"Wouldn’t shock me."
"That shit has been sitting in that soil for years. It’s a wonder they’re all not sick."
Not wanting to lose his chain of thought, Cruz ignored the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee and walked to his seat across from Rohan. He dropped into his chair and rocked back, setting his feet on the table. Mom would scream, but given she wasn’t in yet, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
"So," he said, "Darren Randolph knows sludge was delivered twenty years ago. Back then it would have been PFOA. They didn't ban PFOA until 2015. From what I read, before that, the EPA asked companies to reduce emissions of all perfluorooctanoic acids. They wanted them eliminated by 2015."
"But the chemical companies aren’t risking profit margins by not using these chemicals. They tweak until the EPA catches up with the new formula and bans that one, too."
Unfortunately, Rohan was right. Happened all the time. "Or they suck up the fines because they’re less than what they’d lose in profits and the public doesn’t know."
