Bryce went on, “The story is we found out about the dilbit when everyone else did. Turned out we had a slow leak, one that’s been building up out there for several months. We never looked for it because we didn’t know anything had gone missing. Woody here, he’s already fixed the flow reports to back that up.”
All eyes turned toward the back of the plane where Woody suddenly sat up straight like a schoolboy called on to recite his lesson. “That’s right. I made a little software adjustment that shows a slight drop in volume going all the way back to January. It looks like a calibration issue. It’s too small to trigger an alarm, and it looks like it could have been evaporation.”
“And the tanker logs?”
“Gone.”
Hoss shot him a thumbs-up sign along with a wink, and turned back to Bryce. “So how are we going to explain the fact that it’s dilbit and not heavy oil?”
“Jesus, Hoss,” Gregg said, his impatience clear. “If we have to pay another fine for running dilbit, let’s just do it and make this mess go away. The regulators want a scalp of some sort, and that’s the easiest one to give them. What matters most is convincing them we didn’t know any of it was there. If we get greedy over the dilbit, they might decide to take everything to a grand jury, and somebody could end up going to jail.”
The question was who. Taken together, all the pieces of their story were a house of cards. One person deviating from the company line could bring it crashing down around them, and she worried they were setting Woody up to take the fall. History had shown the cover-up could be punished even more than the crime.
“Who’ll be taking depositions, Gregg?” she asked.
“The EPA, for starters. We’ll all have to get on the same page for that, including Bob. My guess is they’ll want to talk to Hoss and Bryce, and then Larry and a few of his supervisors. If we can sell them on a slow leak, it might stop there. If not, the SEC could take a much harder line. They’ll want to talk with you, since you were putting out the daily updates. If any of your public statements are contradicted by the facts at hand, they’ll take that to mean we misled investors.”
In other words, she could be held responsible for repeating the lies they fed her.
“Don’t you worry, Cathryn,” Hoss said, reaching back to slap her knee. The paternalistic gesture, which he probably meant to reassure her, filled her with dread. “Gregg will fix you up with a good lawyer and you won’t have to admit to anything.”
So his plan was to have her stonewall the regulators. Even if she survived that, she’d never again be effective with the press as Nations Oil’s spokesperson. Nor could she go before the shareholders and stock analysts. With her credibility in the toilet, she was completely useless as head of communications, and not just with Nations Oil. She’d be damaged goods forever—just as Stacie had said.
Hoss leaned back in his chair and looked around the executive cabin. “So how many people know about this, and more important, have we taken care of all of them?”
“Well,” Bryce said, “it’s everybody here on the plane plus Bob and Larry. He told a couple of his fellas they’d have to stick around another week or so until the EPA signed off, but they don’t know about the other leak. We’re all set to bring in private contractors from Calgary as soon as everybody else bugs out.”
“All-righty, then we’re all good. Anything else?”
The conversation shifted to damage control for the Caliber Pipeline. Hoss planned a trip to DC hoping to convince the Senate committee to delay their hearing until the ruckus died down. If they took it up now, their answer would be an unequivocal no.
Cathryn stewed over how casually they’d swept her situation aside. For the next few months, she’d be up to her neck in legal troubles while they were wheeling and dealing for their next fast buck. If the EPA bought this bogus story, their problems were practically over while hers had just begun.
Stacie was also right about all of these guys. They were greedy bastards, corrupt to the core and without an ounce of decency.
By the time they landed in Houston, she wanted nothing more than to get away from all of them, and she bounced down the stairs and paced as Juan unloaded their luggage. It was only when she reached the executive terminal that she realized she’d left her briefcase at her seat, and she stalked back to the plane. At the top of the stairs, she stopped in her tracks to hear Hoss’s voice.
“…that Stacie Pilardi. It’s time to take her out—permanently. I don’t care how you do it, Depew, but she’s fucked with us for the last time.”
“That’s right,” Bryce said. “Cut off the head of the beast, the body dies.”
“And don’t go sending those imbeciles of yours out to do this. When I pay the top dog, I want the top dog. You’ve got till Saturday.”
“Don’t worry, Hoss,” Depew said. “I’ll enjoy this one. She’s good as dead.”
* * *
Stacie’s niece hugged her at the door of her family’s elegant colonial home in Bradford Woods, arguably Pittsburgh’s premier neighborhood. “Good thing you made it back before I left, or I would have made you come see me in Buenos Aires.” She was leaving in a couple of days to study abroad for her senior year.
“Who knows? I might just do that anyway.” Turning to her brother and his wife, she added, “Great to see you again. Thanks for dinner.”
“Take care, Stace,” Philip said. “See you next Wednesday at the board meeting.”
CLEAN’s explosive exposé at Lake Bunyan was still hot news, even in Pittsburgh. Most of the board would applaud her triumph, while those heavily invested in oil stocks would treat her with scorn. She’d take pleasure in sitting among her detractors to gloat.
At Philip’s suggestion, she’d requested bids from several consulting companies to assist in CLEAN’s reorganization. She’d leave it to the pros to decide where their new offices should be located, but the default was right here in Pittsburgh. The only factor that might change that was if Cathryn somehow decided to leave Nations Oil and take a job somewhere else. Stacie was willing to move, but not to a place where she’d have to hide.
As she left her brother’s driveway, she noticed in her rearview mirror the headlights of a car as it pulled from the curb. It was downright creepy to know she was being followed everywhere she went.
Marlene’s ring startled her and she pulled over to take the call, noticing the car behind her do the same. “This is Stacie Pilardi.”
“Thunderbolt Security calling. May I please have your security code?”
Her secret phrase was Shut up, Marlene.
“I’m calling to report a brief interruption of service on your phone line, but it appears to have been restored. We suspect it was only a power surge, but if you’d like, we’ll send someone to check it out.”
“The alarm reset itself, right?” That was a special feature designed to keep it from triggering during thunderstorms.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. I’m on my way home now, and if I see anything suspicious, I’ll give you a call.”
The road to her house was narrow and dark, similar to the one that circled Lake Bunyan. As she swung wide to collect her mail opposite her driveway, her headlights picked up a vehicle on the shoulder about a hundred yards past her house, though the car that had been following her had faded from view. A handoff?
She disabled the house alarm via remote and pulled into the center of her two-car garage. The transparent tape she’d stuck on the door into the house was still in place, but that did nothing to calm the shaking in her hands as she worked the key into the lock. A quick check confirmed everything was just as she left it, the surface light still on over the stove. As she dropped her mail on the counter, she realized something was different—the boning knife was missing from her kitchen block.
She inhaled deeply, catching a repulsive scent. Pungent cologne.
This was a bad idea. She should have let Thunderbolt send their security guards, and they cou
ld have escorted her through the house.
Her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly catch her breath. One misstep and it could all be over before anyone could stop it. With her courage waning, she tiptoed back toward the door, visualizing her safe retreat. In only seconds, she’d be safe in her car.
“Not so fast, little lady.” Depew stepped out of the alcove, twirling her missing knife.
Though she’d known he was there, his voice sent a chill up her spine. “How did you get in here?”
“The same way I do everything—without a goddamn soul finding out.” He took a menacing step toward her, holding up a canvas bag. “Got your jewelry and that nice new laptop you bought after we smashed up your other one. A robbery gone bad.”
“If you think killing me is going to stop our movement, you can forget it. Someone else will stand up and take my place.”
“You mean your little friend from Colorado? I’ll take that up with Hoss and Bryce. She just might have an accident too. Hell, I bet Marty Winthrop would like to do that himself.”
“There’s something you ought to know before you come any closer.” She tapped the side of her head. “You have a little red dot right around your ear and another one in your armpit.”
His sneer faded and he turned his head ever so slightly to find himself on the end of a targeting laser.
“What the—”
“FBI. Move and you’re dead.”
She hoped like hell he didn’t lunge for her, because they’d kill him and rob her of the chance to see him shackled.
Chapter Eighteen
Stacie never dreamed she’d find herself back in the St. Paul Hotel. The feds could have brought this case anywhere, but they wanted a jury of Minnesotans to hear how Nations Oil had nearly pulled a fast one and left them holding the bag. Until the indictments came down, the investigation was secret.
The US Attorney had arranged her trip to testify to the grand jury tomorrow about Karl Depew, not only his attempt on her life, but also the intimidation and harassment campaign he’d waged to thwart their efforts against the oil company. Matt warned he might also delve into Marty’s accusations that she’d set him up, since that was loosely related to this case. While he never came right out and told her to lie, he reminded her she could invoke her Fifth Amendment rights against self-incrimination and refuse to answer. As far as she knew, there was no one who could corroborate Marty’s story, but there was still a question about whether or not they could trace the cell phone she’d used. Or maybe she actually had used the right phone and the other one just hadn’t saved a record of her recent calls. A girl could dream.
Voices from the room next door carried into the hall, and she pressed her eye to the peephole in time to see a gray-haired woman walking away. After a couple of minutes, she opened her SappHere app and found Cathryn standing by. “Guess who’s back in St. Paul.”
“How soon can we meet?”
“How fast can you open the door to the next room?”
Moments later the lock rattled and the door opened between them. Cathryn bowled her over with a bear hug. “You scared me to death with that stunt you pulled in Pittsburgh. That son of a bitch could have killed you.”
“It scared me too, and that was even knowing I had two FBI agents hiding in my house. It was creeping me out. They’d been there for three solid days, and there were two others following me around to make sure the bastard didn’t try to blow up my car or something.”
“I hope he goes to prison for a hundred years.”
“He very well could. It looks like a slam dunk. There was a video camera on top of my refrigerator and we got every word of it on tape. The dumbass even mentioned Hoss and Bryce.”
“Those guys…I still can’t believe they did this.”
This had to be hard on Cathryn, seeing people she’d once respected behave so ruthlessly. “Where does Nations Oil think you are?”
“Visiting my poor sick mother in New Mexico.”
“Hope she feels better soon. How did your testimony go today? I know you’re not supposed to talk about it. I just want to know how you’re holding up.”
“Fine, I guess. The US Attorney wants me back in the morning for a few more questions, but I can’t imagine why. We’ve covered pretty much everything today.”
“I don’t suppose my name came up.” Even if it had, Cathryn wasn’t allowed to tell her, because all of the grand jury proceedings were secret.
“Why would it? I haven’t told anyone but my lawyer that we know each other.”
That was a relief. If they could just get through one more day…
“Enough about lawyers and grand juries. I missed you.” Cathryn kissed her hard, forcing her tongue inside and sliding a hand up her shirt.
“I missed you too.” Stacie wasted no time undressing, and lay back against the pillows with her legs open. Under Cathryn’s heated gaze, she swirled two fingers through her folds until they were wet enough to paint her nipples with the slickness.
“That’s so hot.” Cathryn dropped the last of her clothes and sat facing her at the foot of the bed. “Do it some more. I want to watch.”
“You mean this?” Again she delved into the wet heat, this time with long, languid strokes.
Cathryn stared as if in a trance, moving only to lick her lips.
“Touch your breasts,” Stacie said. “Make love to them the way I do.”
Memories of their first night together on the couch flooded back as Cathryn lifted her breasts and pressed them together. Her fingers teased the nipples until they stood erect, and it was all Stacie could do to remember she too had a show to put on.
“I want to feel those right here,” she said, spreading her lips wide.
Cathryn crawled forward and guided a breast between her legs, pinching a nipple to keep it stiff so she could rub it up and down.
“Oh, that’s perfect.” It wasn’t enough friction to make her come, but it sent her hand into a frenzy. When Cathryn’s tongue suddenly darted between her fingers, she pulled them away and used both hands to massage her own breasts. In only moments, a climax rumbled through her and she pulled a pillow to her face to muffle a scream.
Cathryn knew her body so well, and not only the touches that brought her to climax. She had the perfect caress, the gentlest nuzzle and hands filled with emotion.
They needed more moments like this, time alone to explore their feelings for each other. Everything they’d shared so far had been secret, fleeting, forbidden. They deserved better.
“I want you to come away with me, Cathryn. We need a long vacation together. I don’t care where. I just want to talk about us…and what we want.”
“I want this.” She smiled sweetly from where her head still rested on Stacie’s thigh, her fingers tickling the soft curls where her mouth had been.
“Be serious.”
“I am. I want this, and I don’t want it with anyone but you. That’s probably the most serious thing I’ve said to anyone in five years.”
Not with anyone but her. That meant something, but they couldn’t just say it. They had to make it happen.
“Cathryn, I want more than what we can steal in a hotel room. Who are you when we aren’t sneaking around? How do you like to spend a rainy day? What kind of books do you read? Who are the people you care about? I can’t know these things if all we ever get is a few hours here and there.”
“So come to Houston.”
That was the craziest thing she’d ever heard in her life.
“Seriously, Stacie. What better place to champion clean energy than the oil capital of America? Come to Houston and live with me.”
“I have a better idea. You come to Pittsburgh.”
“My job is in Houston. Yours is wherever you are.”
Yes, Cathryn’s job was in Houston for now, but only because it would look bad to fire the person who blew the whistle on a vast criminal conspiracy. What Stacie couldn’t understand was why she’d want to stay in a job where they wer
e sure to treat her like a pariah. “Do you honestly think you’ll have the confidence of your board after you testify against your bosses? Your actions could end up costing them a billion dollars.”
“I’m not the one who broke the law. When this mess is over, the people who did will be gone. The board will have to reorganize the company under leadership they can trust to do the right thing.” She scooted up to the pillows and tucked Stacie’s head against her chest. “Look, I know how you feel about the oil business, but you can’t judge our whole company on the actions of a few greedy people.”
Naïve or hopeful? The obvious rejoinder was to remind her she’d once described the man who just ordered her murder as kind and decent, but Stacie wasn’t trying to score points. This was a pivotal discussion about their future.
“So let’s say I pick up and move to Houston. Then what?”
“I don’t have a crystal ball, but if you’re asking me what I want, it would be for us to be together every day. One day, I hope we’ll feel strong enough about our feelings to make a commitment to each other.”
That’s the future Stacie had in mind too, and they couldn’t even start down that path unless one of them said yes to moving. “I love you and I want to be with you, but here’s what I need to know. What will our life be like in Houston? How are you going to juggle working for an oil company and having a girlfriend whose mission in life is to put all of you out of business?”
“I never said it would be perfect.” She stuck out her tongue. “But I don’t tell the people I work with about my personal life. It’s not any of their business, so they don’t have to know who you are.”
“That’s your solution? To keep our relationship in the closet? We’ve been doing that for these last few weeks and it’s driven both of us crazy. You’ll be looking over your shoulder every time we go out, and I’ll have to pick up all my things and hide in my room if the doorbell rings. How can either one of us live like that?”
“Can we please just drop this for now? We hardly have any time together as it is, and I don’t want to spend it fighting about something we can’t fix.”
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