Maybe it was time to chase something bigger, something more, something that if she caught it might do the world some good.
She looked over the photos as Nell explained how she became involved with the case. So many families hurt. The children were the hardest. They should have a lifetime of health, but they’d been unlucky. They’d been born in a place where the water they drank made them sick.
Except it didn’t according to the EPA.
“What did the outside sources say about the water supply?” Gemma asked as she glanced at a photo that had been taken at some kind of party. The people in the picture were all milling around with drinks in hand, neon signs flashing behind their heads.
“We were only able to pay for one report. Our testing found the reservoir was plainly unfit for human consumption. I have a copy. Unfortunately, your firm has five separate reports that claim it’s fine. It’s going to be a hard sell. Juries don’t like scientific data as it is.”
She was right. Juries tended to sleep through lengthy scientific testimony. Getting an expert who could tell them in simple terms whether or not the water was fine would be the key. She kept flipping through party pictures. The man in the shot smiled gamely, as though he didn’t particularly want to celebrate his birthday but wouldn’t disappoint anyone.
Everyone in the picture looked happy. Even the men in the background.
She caught on the familiar sight of a man with well-cut blond hair and a perfect suit. Everyone else was wearing some form of Western wear, but not Patrick Welch. No. He would wear his Italian custom-cut suits even in the middle of the sticks.
Gemma turned the photo around. She pointed to the man sitting across from Patrick, though she suspected she knew the answer. “Who is this?”
It would have been easy to pay four of the experts. When Giles and Knoxbury took on a case like this, they hired at least four experts to run tests. But in this case, they were dependent on the EPA’s report as well. The EPA should have been the untouchable voice of truth.
Nell studied the photo. “Oh, that’s the man from the EPA. Kevin something. Michaels. I have it all written down. I protested him, too. I think his report was lazy.”
It all fell into place. “His report was paid for by Giles and Knoxbury. Or rather the firm negotiated the bribe for Tremon. See that jerk-faced, son-of-a-bitch asswipe next to him? That’s Patrick Welch.”
Nell went stark white for a moment and then jumped up, her fist pumping in the air. “I knew it! Yes.” She stopped, her dance ceasing in an instant. “Are you sure?”
Gemma shrugged. “Nope, but why else would he be trying to kill me?”
And it wasn’t merely Patrick. If she’d gone back to New York, she would have been brought into the fold, maybe, but she kind of thought she would have met a convenient mugger one night going home. He would have been paid by Giles and Knoxbury, too. And then the difficult Ice Princess wouldn’t be a threat anymore.
Nell frowned. “He tried to kill you?”
“Yep. With strawberries.”
“I don’t like that man. Strawberries are a gift. They shouldn’t be perverted.”
Gemma kind of thought they were more like her curse, but she didn’t mention that to Nell. “You understand what this means? All we have to do is prove the EPA was bribed, get new, clean reports on Calvin Township, and you’ll win your case.”
“How do we prove it?”
Gemma already had a plan. “We follow the cash, baby. The cash always leads the way.”
And it would lead the way this time. She just knew it.
Henry emerged, a grin on his face as Jesse followed him. “Jesse and I have had a talk and a snack. How are you girls doing?” He glanced down at the pictures. “Calvin Township? Gemma, were you serious about the whole ‘good fight’ thing?”
At least she could still surprise someone. “Yes. Although I have to admit, I’m also happy I get to send my ex-fiancé to prison. My old firm and Tremon Industries bribed public officials to fake the reports on Calvin Township. I can’t exactly prove it, yet.”
“You need to follow the money.” Henry’s eyes suddenly became deeply shrewd. “Start with the EPA guy’s accounts. We can even tap his credit cards. See if he’s paid anything off recently. He’ll almost certainly have been paid from a front account.”
How the hell did sweet Henry Flanders know about front accounts? It was why the corporate structure was important. Accounting practices in large corporations could be labyrinthine, with smaller companies paying into larger ones, and even tinier ones taking the losses so the main front looked good to shareholders.
Nell smiled up at her handsome husband, hugging him. “He’s incredibly smart.”
Yes, he was. “You ever hacked a system, Henry?”
He laughed, an “aw shucks” kind of sound. “Of course not. I barely know my way around a computer. You need to talk to Cameron. I’m sure he’ll be glad to help.”
Nell practically gleamed up at him. Henry Flanders was roughly forty years old, but there wasn’t a hint of middle-aged paunch to him. He was good looking, with a lean strength and an almost Superman-like handsomeness behind his glasses. And Gemma thought he was full of shit. If he didn’t know how to work a computer, she would eat one of those tofu burgers that seemed to have turned Jesse a nice shade of green. She’d read jurors before, and she’d put Henry Flanders firmly in the no category. He would be a harsh judge.
But he was on her side. And she was kind of glad. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be on Henry’s bad side.
“Can you call Nate for me?” She reached for Jesse’s hand. He’d had a rough night, what with all the fake meat. “We have to go to Hell on Wheels and haul Cade home.”
Henry nodded. “Sure thing. We’ll explain it to him and give Cam the name to start looking for. You be careful at that bar. It can be a dangerous place.”
“I’ll keep her safe.” Jesse wrapped an arm around her.
They walked out the door and into the star-filled night. There was a brisk chill to the air, and she wondered what this place would look like blanketed in snow. She would find out. She was going to spend her life here. Now she realized her mother had come here for more than one reason. Beyond wanting to come home, she’d come here for Gemma, to reinforce the lesson her father had tried to teach her as he lay dying. Live. She’d existed before, but now far from everything she’d thought she wanted, she was finally alive.
“Did you get what you need?” Jesse asked.
He and Cade were what she needed, but she answered his question. She settled her bag on her shoulder, crossing it over her chest to rest on the opposite hip. “Oh, yes. And more. With a little help from my friends, I can put Patrick in jail.” Where they wouldn’t let him wear suits. Orange. He would look good in orange. It really was his color. And he could be someone’s bitch in jail. “All I need is Cam’s magic fingers. If he can get into the EPA guy’s bank account, we should be able to trace the money. And I have a whole corporate map of Tremon. I put it together. I know that company down to the last piddly ass storefront. I can find the money trail.”
Jesse gave her a grin. “This is the happiest I’ve seen you.”
She frowned back. “Not true. I seem to remember being much happier that I’m getting married. I am getting married, right?”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Damn straight you are. Now, tell me why you’re happy about this. Besides the fact that you get to dream about Patrick and his new prison friends.”
He was going to make her admit it. Damn it. “I get to help those kids.”
“And that’s what my Gemma can be.” He kissed her again, slower this time. “I love you.” He stopped, his eyes squinting in the darkness. “What’s wrong with my bike?”
She was about to give him his words back when there was a muffled sound and Jesse staggered. He touched his stomach, and even in the moonlight, Gemma could see blood.
“Don’t scream or I’ll shoot him again.” Patrick stood in the mi
ddle of the dirt road, his hand shaking. “I didn’t want to do this. Damn it. I didn’t want to do this at all.”
* * * *
Jesse fell to his knees, his strength fading.
“Jesse!” Gemma tried to get her arms around him. “Oh, god. Don’t do this. Don’t you die.”
She put a hand on his abdomen as though she could stop the blood flowing out of his body.
Fuck, getting shot hurt. “Get out of here.”
Her tears sparkled in the moonlight. “I won’t leave you.”
“Get up, Gemma.” Patrick. Patrick was here and he’d shot him. Patrick was going to kill Gemma. “Unless you want me to finish off your boyfriend, you’re going to get up and get me in that house. You found the evidence, didn’t you? That idiot activist has it.”
“Don’t stay.” Jesse whispered. “He’ll still kill me. Run, darlin’.”
She stared down at him, leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Can’t.”
“Gemma, if I see your hand move an inch toward that wretched bag of yours, I’ll put one through his brain. You don’t think I remember you carry a gun?” Patrick moved closer but was still out of reach.
“The sheriff took my gun,” she admitted. “He hasn’t given it back to me, yet. Nate Wright and I are going to have such a talk about that. The best I can give you is pepper spray.”
If he came closer, Jesse might be able to get his damn limbs to function long enough to pull the fucker down to the ground. Gemma could run.
“Get up now, Gemma,” Patrick ordered, his voice a bit shaky.
Jesse felt her kiss him one more time before getting to her feet.
“You did it. You bribed that official.” Gemma wasn’t shaky at all. There was a ton of judgement in her tone.
Patrick didn’t move. “Of course I did. They were never going to promote you. I always knew you couldn’t handle getting your hands dirty. This is business, and business is always war. I didn’t like this part either, but I can’t get out and I’m sure as hell not going to let some backwoods idiot’s morality cost me my life.”
Gemma’s head swung toward the house. “They’re nice people.”
“Nice? God, what’s happened to you?” He looked down at Jesse, a sneer on his face. “This guy? Or the other idiot you’re shacked up with? What? You get a little cock and go soft?”
“I had a little cock, Patrick, or did you forget the years I spent with you?”
That was his girl. Sass to the end. He watched Patrick. Just a bit closer. His hands twitched.
Patrick took a step toward her. “Yeah, well, you were an ice princess, sweetheart. You know what happens to cocks in the cold.”
Jesse grabbed his ankle and pulled with all his might, adrenaline rushing through his system. “Run, Gemma. Now!”
The gun went off again. Jesse felt something burn against his left side. He reached out to get the gun. It had fallen. Metal glinted in the moonlight, but all the air left his body as Patrick planted a knee in his gut. Agony filled his world. Unimaginable pain overtook him. He grunted, trying to breathe.
He heard a knocking and a shout and then Patrick was on his feet again, gun in hand.
“Catch me if you can, asshole. Let’s see if you can get me before I get to the sheriff.” Gemma’s voice trailed off.
Patrick took off after her.
He tried to get up, to stop Patrick from following her. His limbs wouldn’t move. Useless. He was so useless.
It was only a second later that Henry Flanders’s face came into view. “How many?”
His voice was a flat monotone, not the light and sympathetic tone Henry almost always used. And the look in his eyes. Henry’s eyes, always so filled with amusement at the world around him, those eyes were flat obsidian stones. It was like someone else had taken over Henry’s body. Someone dangerous.
“I think I got hit twice.” His gut was on fire. “You have to help Gemma. Call the sheriff. Call Cade.”
Cade would come. No matter how broken they seemed, Cade would come to help them.
“How many guns?” Henry corrected.
His head was starting to spin, but he concentrated. “Just one.”
“Excellent.” Henry looked over Jesse. “Nell’s coming. She’ll take care of you. Do not allow her to come after me. I don’t want her to see this.”
Henry was gone in a flash, but Nell’s soft hands were suddenly smoothing back his hair. “I called 911. They’ll be here soon. I am sorry, but I have to cover this.” A wave of nausea hit as she pressed a hand towel to his wound. “It’s organic cotton. And it’s clean. Oh, Jesse, please hold on. Where did my husband go?”
He reached for her hand. Whatever Henry was going to do would be rough. He’d seen it in Henry’s eyes. And he was also pretty sure Henry wouldn’t do it if his wife was around. He had to keep Nell with him. “Please. Don’t leave.”
Her eyes turned round and sympathetic. “Of course not.”
And then it didn’t matter because the world began to narrow. He looked to the sky. The stars were endless.
* * * *
Cade practically tackled the sheriff in the parking lot.
“We can talk about this debacle back at the station house, Sinclair. Go and get Gemma and Jesse and we can all talk about how fucked up this whole situation is.” Wright stared back at the neon lit bar, an angry look on his face.
Cade would love to know what had happened to make those two men hate each other, but he had other problems. “I want the story now. I want to know why no one bothered to mention this sting operation of yours. How long have you known where Patrick is?”
Nate sighed. “He talked to Mike last night. We thought this would be the best way to gather the evidence we need against him. I was certain he wouldn’t make a move on Gemma. Rafe trailed her all day until she left with Jesse. She’s safe in the valley. Everyone’s watching out for her.”
Novack tugged at his shirt, pulling out a small microphone that had been taped to his body. “Won’t need this now.”
“He might call back, try to arrange another meeting,” Cam said.
“Doubt it. Even if he didn’t see the law here, he got spooked easily. And he said he had a deadline. She had to be dead by tomorrow morning, or he would be the one in a casket. He was very specific. She had to be dead by dawn or I wouldn’t get my money.” Novack ran a hand through his longish hair. “I’m done with this shit. I’m not coming off my mountain again.”
Fuck, he had to get to Gemma. He would tell Jesse what was going on, and then they wouldn’t take no for an answer. They would get the hell out of here and hide until this whole thing was sorted through. His fear didn’t matter now. He was way more afraid of a world without Gemma in it than he was of anything else.
Cam cursed as he pulled out his cell phone. “Rafe says Jesse and Gemma left a half an hour ago on Jesse’s bike. They were headed to Nell and Henry’s. Do you want him to go up there with them?”
Nate scrubbed a hand across his head. “Damn it. No. I’ll go do it. Maybe someone will off this little shit and then we won’t have to worry about him.” He sighed. “Then we can worry about whoever killed him.”
It was bigger than Patrick. Cade’s mind spun with the implications. Gemma was involved in something big, and she didn’t even know it. “Where do Nell and Henry live?”
Jesse had been out to their place to help Henry fix their biodiesel car, but Cade hadn’t been.
“I’ll take you there.” Nate started for the parking lot. He’d left the county Bronco behind. Cade recognized Zane’s black truck.
Cade went along because he didn’t have a place to stash thirty grand on his bike, and the sooner he got to Gemma, the better.
He slipped into the backseat as the radio squawked.
“Sheriff? We have a 911 call from Nell Flanders. She says someone’s shooting outside her cabin, and we already have one down. I’ve dispatched the Creede boys out there, but if you’re still at Hell on Wheels, you can get there faster.�
� Laura’s voice came over the radio. “Rafe’s on his way, too. I’ve called for Caleb and Ty, so expect a bunch of sirens coming your way.”
Nate already had the truck in gear and the gravel was flying.
“Who’s down?” Cade asked from the backseat. Don’t be Gemma. Don’t be Gemma.
Nate handed the handset to Cam as he flew down the mountain.
“Laura, do we have an ID on the victim?” Cam’s voice was perfectly steady.
Laura paused, sending Cade’s stomach into knots. “Jesse McCann. No word on his status. The situation is fluid and dangerous. Use all caution. I’ll update you if I can.”
Status. No word on Jesse’s status. They didn’t know if he was dead or alive. The situation was ongoing. Patrick had made his move, and Jesse had paid the price.
Guilt swamped him. He’d caused this. Like he’d caused everything else. Patrick would have been arrested if he hadn’t fucked everything up. He’d made Patrick desperate. He was the reason Patrick had walked straight out the bar and gone to find Gemma.
“I should have told you,” Nate said, his words tight. “If I’d been in your same position, I would have gone after the bastard, too.”
Cam talked as he checked the clip on his gun. “We got the message from Mike this morning. He didn’t give us a lot of time to make reasonable decisions. He basically walked into the station house and invited us along.”
“As fucked up as Mike is, we should be glad he didn’t kill the guy himself,” Nate said.
“Can you go faster?” Cade asked, keeping his voice even when all he wanted to do was scream.
“Not if I don’t want us to die,” Nate replied. “When we get there, you stay in the car, Cade. You let us do our jobs.”
Cade kept his mouth shut because he couldn’t promise that. If he could save Gemma, he would. If he could save Jesse, he would. His love. His brother. And if he couldn’t save them, then nothing mattered anyway.
Chapter Nineteen
Gemma clutched her purse as she ran, praying the crazed knocking she’d done would bring the Flanderses out to help Jesse. If they hadn’t gone back to their kink fest. When she’d realized he was going to kill Jesse, she’d knocked on the door and then taken off, certain Patrick would follow. The one thing she couldn’t do was let Patrick walk into their small cottage and slaughter everyone there because he wanted to move up in the firm.
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