“What?” Holly asks, obviously alarmed at the look on my face.
Silently, I tilt the bucket so she can see the manufacturer’s logo and name emblazoned on the bottom side.
Greythorn Industries.
THIRTY-SEVEN
GRAYSON
The tensionin Kai’s living room is thick enough to cut with a hunting knife. I pace behind the sofa, unable to stay still as Noah and Holly lay out what they discovered at the springs. With each word, a coil of rage tightens inside of me.
“A bucket laced with heavy metals leaching into every drop of water it collects,” Holly says, her voice clinical despite the fury in her eyes. “Manufactured by Greythorn Industries.”
Noah leans back on the couch. “It can’t be a coincidence.”
I stop pacing, my hand instinctively going to the bandanna covering my scars because it’s always easier to hide than face a terrible truth. The pieces click together in my mind like the assembly of a rifle—precise, mechanical, deadly. “He’s poisoning the town.”
“But why?” Kai asks from his position on the recliner. He’s still pale from the chelation therapy, but insisted on being part of this conversation. “What does he gain?”
The answer comes to me immediately. “Real estate.”
Three pairs of eyes turn to me, waiting for elaboration.
“I overheard him on the phone,” I explain, recalling the conversation I witnessed on Main Street. “He was talking aboutproperty values tanking. About buying when prices bottomed out.”
Holly’s eyes widen. “He’s creating a public health crisis to drive down property values.”
“Then he swoops in, buys everything for pennies on the dollar,” Noah continues, connecting the dots. “He’d own the whole town and could do whatever he wants with it. Including sell it off to developers.”
“And by the time anyone discovers the springs aren’t actually contaminated, the deal is already done,” Holly finishes.
“That’s...” Kai struggles to find words. “That’s fucking evil.”
I nod, memories of Ryder from our time overseas flooding back. The casual cruelty. The calculated risks with other people’s lives. “It’s Ryder.”
“We need to go to the police,” Holly says, already reaching for her phone.
I move quickly, placing my hand over hers. “No.”
She looks up at me, confusion evident on her face. “What do you mean, no? He’s poisoning children, Grayson.”
“I know,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Confronting him is dangerous.”
“We have evidence,” Noah argues. “The bucket?—“
“Is circumstantial,” I cut in. “Ryder won’t just roll over. Destroy his business and he’ll go scorched earth.”
“So we do nothing?” Holly pulls her hand away, anger flashing in her eyes.
“Didn’t say that.” I meet her gaze steadily. “Let me talk to him first.”
“You?” Noah asks, skepticism clear in his tone.
I nod once. “We have history.”
If anyone will be able to cajole, or threaten, Ryder into doing the right thing, it’s me.
“You’re not going alone,” Holly says firmly. It’s not a request.
