God, she really did have a crappy reputation. “I’m not going to hurt her feelings.”
“She came here to talk to your wife. She’s not some monster.” Jesse stepped in front of her.
Nice. The Neanderthal hormones were taking over.
Henry kept the door closed. “I’ve read up on her. I know the kinds of cases she handled. I know women like my wife tend to annoy lawyers because she tries to keep them honest.”
Gemma rolled her eyes because she could feel Jesse getting brutally pissed off. If she was going to keep Henry’s head in one piece, she needed to bring in the big guns. “Nell! Nell, I’m trying to join the good fight and Henry’s standing in the way!”
Henry Flanders’s face went tight as the door opened and Nell smiled.
“Gemma! How lovely. Please come in. Henry, why didn’t you tell me we had guests?” Nell’s blouse wasn’t buttoned properly.
Henry wasn’t trying to protect his wife’s feelings. He was trying to keep from getting cock blocked. Unfortunately, she couldn’t worry about that this second. She needed answers, and Nell was the only one who might be able to help.
Jesse frowned, obviously figuring out what Gemma had. “Sorry, man.”
“Yeah.” Henry’s frown disappeared, and an evil glint appeared in his usually peaceful eyes. “It’s okay. Come on in. Nell made some lovely tofu burgers. I am sure you would love one, Jesse. We can make sure you get one while your woman is talking to mine.”
Gemma nearly laughed at the look on Jesse’s face. The meaning was clear. Jesse would be enjoying fake meat for as long as Gemma kept Nell talking. Well, unfortunately, Jesse was going to have to take one for the team.
Henry led Jesse away as Nell let Gemma into the house. Nell’s house was just about everything Gemma would have thought it would be. The roof was covered in solar panels and there was a little windmill. Inside the cabin was neat and sported a huge wall of bookshelves and all kinds of activist stuff. She had three working petitions laid out, and a bunch of stickers and T-shirts for her upcoming protest at Tremon Industries.
“How many letters have you written Tremon?” Gemma looked around the pretty living room. No TV. Was that the handle of a flogger poking out of the very sweet-looking flowered couch?
Nell used her ankle to shove the item in question out of the way. She didn’t even blush. “Probably a hundred or so. Please sit down.”
Yep, Gemma caught sight of a ball gag. Nell was a freak. It made Gemma way more comfortable. She took a seat across from Nell. “Have you ever written a firm called Giles and Knoxbury?”
“Oh, yes. Many times. I’ve been writing them for years asking them to rethink their corporate politics. I’ve asked them to review many cases and rethink taking them. It’s a horrible firm. It’s number five on my hit list. I have several hit lists.”
Gemma bet she did. Nell Flanders looked to be in her thirties, but there was a perpetual look of innocence that made her seem younger when she talked. “So they know who you are.”
“Absolutely. I’ve actually protested against the firm before in person. They were defending a corporation against a group of farmers who had their organic farms bought out under false pretenses. They were supposed to continue organic practices, but the company immediately started using pesticides.”
“Holy shit. You’re the one who sent four hundred pounds of rotten lettuce to Mr. Giles. That was legendary at the firm.” No one who worked there could possibly forget that day. Or that smell.
Nell smiled. “I was trying to make a point.”
“So they definitely know you. Tell me what you think is wrong about the Calvin Township case. And do you have any more of those pictures?” She was looking for anything to jog her memory.
Nell retrieved the photos and handed them over. “They’re mostly just family photos. I use them to humanize the victims. It’s too easy to see them as names and dates on a report. It’s harder when you see that they’re just people.”
Gemma had to agree. Nell was smart when it came to running her particular business. And apparently she had quite a reputation. It struck Gemma that she and Nell weren’t so unalike. They were both chasing something. Gemma had chased her career, and Nell chased justice. At least at the end of the day, Nell would have done something good.
Gemma looked over the photos as Nell spoke about 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 what looked like someone’s birthday party. The people were all milling around with drinks in hand, neon signs flashing behind their heads.
“We were only able to pay for one. It 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 just 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.
Her eyes caught on the familiar well-cut blond hair and 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 very 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 little 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 just 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 very 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.”