I stepped into Emily's place, and Violet got the door for Mr. Armstrong. He followed me, but the pair of women followed him. When I reached the living room, I told Emily we were there, and then headed to the pantry. Opening that, I showed the man the fire extinguisher he'd had such a fit about last time.
"And the smoke detector?" he asked.
Emily came out of the bedroom already pointing. "That's up above the cabinets," she told him. "Scared the hell out of me when I accidentally hit the test button. The thing's loud. There's another in the hallway between the bedrooms. We also have a spare fire extinguisher in the coat closet."
"Oh." Mr. Armstrong seemed almost shocked by that. "Can you show me?"
"Sure," Emily said. "This way."
The fire marshal followed her, so I turned to look at Violet. "I'm not getting a good vibe," I whispered.
Cessily shook her head. "We're more than above code. I'm wondering if his job has been threatened. How far does Paul Simmons' reach go?"
"Far," Violet said. "The first time I met that man, he bragged about all the people he knows. The mayor, the inspectors, and so on. He made it clear that he could have our zoning changed. Granted, it didn't work, but that was how he thought."
Cessily sighed with disgust. "Which means this fight isn't over yet, and we need his approval before we can start taking students."
"At least the state approvals are already green-lit," Violet pointed out just as Emily brought the man back to the kitchen.
"I think that's all you need from my place?" she asked.
"Yes," Mr. Armstrong assured her.
So I gestured towards the front door, making it clear that he should lead the way. Violet and Cessily followed him, but Emily lifted an eyebrow in a silent question. I could only shake my head because I didn't have an answer to give her. Something was definitely going on, if she felt it too, but I had no clue what this man's problem was.
Outside, Mr. Armstrong turned to Violet and lifted his clipboard before his chest. "Well, it looks like you've made great progress so far," he tried.
"That sounds like you're about to add another hoop to jump through," Violet said.
"Unfortunately, because this will be a school, I won't be able to approve this without a detailed fire evacuation plan."
Cessily lifted that manilla folder and offered it to him. "Like this? I have emailed the same document to the email address on your card, and I mailed a certified copy, just to make sure you get it."
Mr. Armstrong opened it and began to flip through the pages. "Uh, yeah. Yes. Um, this does look to be exactly what we need," he conceded.
"So, does this mean we'll be approved now?" Violet asked.
The man scratched at his brow. "We don't usually approve places with solar power, you understand, and that causes a few more complications..."
"Except that it doesn't," Cessily assured him. "You see, the wiring has to meet the exact same safety standards as it would for city-run power. The solar panels have already been authorized with our building permit. Both city - which we aren't technically inside - and county requirements are the same for the buildings regardless of where the electricity comes from. I can cite that code if you'd like, sir."
"I, uh..." He looked over at me as ifIcould help him. "I was just saying that I'm not used to this process."
Cessily smiled at him. "Right. Hence all three visits. Our concern is that someone in the county office is encouraging you to delay our project for personal reasons. It would be a shame for you, an honest government employee, to get caught in the middle of a dispute between millionaires trying to one-up each other."
The man ducked his head. "I was told to make sure this place doesn't pass," he admitted. "The problem is that I can't find a single reason why you wouldn't, but if I sign this paper, I'm going to get written up."
"It's also very illegal to retaliate against a whistleblower," Cessily said as she pulled out a folded piece of paper and offered it to him. "This is the number for the state board that oversees such things. Now, in full disclosure, I will let you know that one of our many guests here is the local state representative, Texas Congressman Caruzo. He's concerned about corruption in the county offices. If you make a report about the pressure you've been put under, that makes you a whistleblower, and firing you would make you a very rich man."
Mr. Armstrong began to smile. "Really?"
So Cessily reached into her back pocket and found a business card. One I had a feeling had justcasuallybeen put there for this very reason. "And if you have any questions, send me an email. I'll get you in touch with someone who can help. Unfortunately, I can't represent you due to a conflict of interest, but I do know a few good attorneys in this state who'd love to take on this project. We have to fight corruption where we find it, you know."
"Thank you," he breathed, taking the card, slipping it into his pocket, and then lifting his clipboard. "I'm also going to make a note here that this property not only meets, but exceeds, all local fire code requirements." Then he scrawled his name and passed over the paperwork. "Congratulations, Miss Dawson. I just hope you're ready for the fight you have ahead of you, because these people are powerful."
"It's ok," she assured him. "I'm even more powerful. Now go enjoy the rest of your day, sir. Thank you for coming back so many times."
The man hurried up the hill to where he had parked his truck. We stood there until he was not only in it, but also off the property. The whole time, Cessily's eyes were scanning the paperwork, looking at every single line.
