Chapter 38
Emily Windsor's POV
We were partners, not his subordinates. If I couldn't weather even this storm, what right did I have to stand beside Luke as he tore down an old world?
Lost in turbulent thoughts, my phone rang abruptly.
It was Luke.
I walked to the window and answered.
"Where are you?" His voice was low and even, as always, impossible to read.
"Preston District." I kept my tone steady.
Silence stretched across the line for several seconds. That silence sat like a stone on my chest. I could almost see him frowning slightly.
"When are you coming back?" he asked.
"When the case is done."
"Alright."
Then he hung up.
I clutched the phone, listening to the dial tone.
Fine.
I shook off the tangled thoughts crowding my mind.
"Jade, let's go." I grabbed my coat.
"Where?" Jade was still reeling from our earlier discovery.
"To meet our adversaries." A cold fire lit in my eyes. "Kingsley Chemical Plant."
---
Kingsley Chemical Plant sat on the edge of Preston District like a steel beast crouched by the river. Despite the swirling public scandal, it roared on—massive smokestacks belching thick plumes into the gray sky.
Our arrival was clearly anticipated.
The moment we identified ourselves at the gate, a well-dressed man in his forties hustled out, face wreathed in smiles.
"Miss Windsor, I presume? What an honor!" He extended his hand eagerly. "I'm the plant manager here. Sawyer Lee."
I ignored his outstretched hand and gave a cool nod. "Mr. Lee. I'm here to inquire about your facility's waste disposal practices."
"Of course, of course! Full cooperation!" Sawyer's smile never wavered as he ushered us toward the complex, launching into a smooth monologue. "Miss Windsor, you have to understand—Kingsley is a model of regulatory compliance. All our emissions meet federal EPA standards. Every data point documented, crystal clear. We welcome any investigation!"
He danced around the real issues, his words slippery and rehearsed.
I stopped walking and turned to face him, eyes sharp. "Then how do you explain the cancer cluster in Preston District? The dead fish floating in the river?"
Sawyer's smile froze for a heartbeat before morphing into an expression of pained sympathy. He sighed heavily.
"Miss Windsor, you're young, idealistic—I respect that. But you've been deceived by troublemakers!" He lowered his voice, adopting a confidential tone. "Do you know how many jobs this plant provides? How much we pay in taxes? We've funded road repairs, community programs—countless good deeds! But people are greedy. There are always lazy welfare cheats looking for a quick payday. They live recklessly, get sick, then blame us. It's outrageous!"
He spun his web of lies with righteous indignation, casting himself as the victim.
I stared at his calculating face, nausea rising in my throat.
Sarah's desperate sobs. That dying child's face. All of it flashed before my eyes.
I let out a cold laugh, my voice icy. "So you're saying this is all an elaborate shakedown?"
"Exactly!" He slapped his thigh like he'd found a kindred spirit. "Miss Windsor, you're a smart woman. Don't let them use you as their weapon. This situation is murky. A young, accomplished lawyer like yourself—why wade into these dirty waters?"
Beneath the folksy tone lay thinly veiled threats and condescension.
I met his shrewd eyes, enunciating each word clearly. "I intend to stir those waters myself. Let's see what filth is hiding at the bottom."
Sawyer's fake smile finally cracked. A flash of malice flickered in his eyes.
But he quickly resurrected his genial mask, though the smile now carried undisguised impatience. "Miss Windsor, such determination! Since you're so interested, let me give you the grand tour. Kingsley has nothing to hide."
"I appreciate that." I smiled faintly and strode forward.
For the next hour-plus, I dragged Sawyer from Workshop One to Workshop Five, from raw material processing to finished goods packaging.
"Mr. Lee, this equipment looks state-of-the-art. German import? How does its wastewater treatment recycling system operate?"
"Oh? Why is this pipe a different color from the others? Is it for transporting hazardous chemicals? OSHA Code Section 1910.1200 requires clearly labeled hazard communication for such pipelines and regular maintenance logs. Where are yours kept?"
"The ventilation system here seems inadequate. Aren't there health risks for workers exposed to these conditions long-term?"
I peppered him with detailed yet deliberately naive questions. Sweat beaded on Sawyer's forehead. His smile grew increasingly strained. He went from verbose explanations to terse responses, eventually reduced to grunts of "yes" and "right."
Inwardly I sneered. Outwardly I maintained an expression of innocent curiosity, my gaze sweeping over the roaring machinery that somehow produced nothing visible. My suspicions deepened.
Of course I knew I wouldn't extract real answers. I was stalling, waiting for news from another battlefield.
When I estimated enough time had passed, I finally stopped, feigning loss of interest. "Thank you for your patience, Mr. Lee. I think that's enough for today."
He practically leaped at the chance, forcing a smile. "Safe travels, Miss Windsor. Feel free to return anytime with questions."
I reached the factory gates, then turned back to look at those massive smokestacks belching pollution. With pointed meaning, I smiled. "Oh, I will. After all, I've only just started stirring."
Without waiting to see his face darken, I turned and left.
---
I took a circuitous route, avoiding the sparse security cameras along the main road, arriving at a breach in the abandoned perimeter fence behind the factory.
Weeds and garbage littered the area, the stench even more pungent than elsewhere.
I leaned against the wall, heart pounding with nerves.
Dusk settled over the landscape. The factory loomed in the distance like a hibernating predator—cold and dangerous.
Just as anxiety threatened to consume me, rustling sounds came from the underbrush.
I immediately went on alert, hand instinctively reaching for the panic button in my pocket.
"Emily! It's me!" Jade's hushed voice called out.
Relief flooded through me. She emerged from the shoulder-high grass, leaves tangled in her hair, red scratches marking her face. She looked disheveled but her eyes blazed with excitement.
"How'd it go?" I grabbed her urgently, pulling her into deeper cover.
"Jackpot!" Jade gasped for breath, fishing her phone from her pocket and shoving it toward me like a prize. Her voice trembled with suppressed excitement and residual fear. "While you kept that fox busy, I slipped in through the maintenance access you scouted earlier."