Anyone But You Page 11

  She kicked off her boots and leaned against the headboard, stretching her legs alongside Stacie’s. In another wave of traumatic memories, she recalled sitting this way beside her mother in the bathroom as they braced the door so her father couldn’t get in.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

  “Funny, but I’m not. The more success we have getting people behind us, the harder the pushback. These guys wouldn’t have done something so drastic if we hadn’t hit them where it hurts. I saw your press release from this morning. Do you even believe the things you say? I told you they’d doctor the documents.”

  “All I have to work with is the information I’m given. I may leave out a few disparaging details, and I’m very careful in my choice of words, but I don’t stand there and knowingly lie. It’s my job to project my company’s image, and to cast them in the best possible light. Why would anyone expect anything else?”

  “So if a kid shows up covered with bruises and his dad says he fell, you’re just going to take his word for it?”

  After she’d been grappling with her unpleasant memories of her mother, the question was like a slap in the face. “You’re comparing this to beating up a child?” She scooted off the bed only to be tugged back down by her elbow.

  “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. What a stupid thing to say to somebody who’s actually been there.”

  “For what it’s worth, Stacie, I’m sure you’re telling the truth about everything that happened to you. Like I said, I’ll talk to the higher-ups, and not just because I think what’s Depew’s doing is morally wrong. It doesn’t make good business sense to be associated with someone like that. I don’t know exactly what you expect me to do, but I’m a whole lot more effective at making a difference from the inside. And I’m only talking about Depew, not everything we do at Nations Oil. You just have to accept there’s another side to the oil business. It isn’t as black and white as you seem to think it is, and the people who work there are no more evil than people anywhere else.”

  “I don’t think you’re evil, Cathryn. What I don’t get, though, is how all of us can look at the same science, and you guys and all your powerful friends come to a different conclusion.”

  “That’s an exaggeration. It’s obvious the earth is warming, but whether or not it’s caused by fossil fuel consumption isn’t settled science. Do you think scientists would have shouted about global warming when we came out of the Ice Age? It’s a natural process of the earth.”

  “Over hundreds of thousands of years, yes, but not forty. Natural warming happens from volcanoes and fissures in the earth, or when a herd of zebras break wind. Fuel consumption by humans is not natural. I know you’ve seen the charts. Answer me honestly. If you weren’t in the oil business, would you believe the research?”

  “But I am in the oil business, and I think that gives me more knowledge about it than the average person who just defers to the so-called experts.”

  “I’m in the oil business too, Cathryn, and I know these scientists you so easily dismiss don’t just make up their data in a vacuum.”

  “Did you ever hear of the herd effect? That’s when people all start saying the same thing because they’re afraid to go against the grain. Science journals won’t publish articles that aren’t part of the conventional wisdom, so why bother writing them in the first place? Especially if you want tenure or government funding.” Cathryn was tired of the conflict. She relaxed against the pillows again and laid her head on Stacie’s shoulder, taking care not to bump her eye. “Let’s just drop it. Why did you ask me here if you hate me so much?”

  “I don’t hate you. I just wanted to prove to you what those assholes had done. And maybe I wanted a little sympathy…somebody to baby me over my boo-boo. Think you could do that? I’ve had a really bad day.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at Stacie’s sudden child-like plea for comfort. “You want me to kiss it and make it better?”

  “I’m not sure I could handle that. It’s pretty tender.”

  “How about butterfly kisses?” She carefully flicked her eyelashes against the swollen brow. “Can you feel that?”

  “I can feel your hand in my crotch.”

  It was only then she noticed she’d braced herself on one arm, which was wedged between Stacie’s legs. “We’re going to have sex again, aren’t we?”

  “I sure hope so, but if I lie down my head will explode.”

  “We can’t have that.” Cathryn loosened the buttons on Stacie’s plaid shirt. “I like this. It’s soft.”

  “It’s my favorite. Sometimes I prefer it to nothing at all.”

  “And you aren’t wearing a bra. I like that too.” She left the last two buttons intact and switched her attention to the jeans, standing up to tug them off along with the panties. Sitting there only in her shirt made Stacie sexy as hell. “I don’t suppose you have a nice, fat dildo in that bag over there? Because I’d really like to watch it slide in and out of you.”

  “I don’t…and believe me, no one is sorrier about that than I am. But it would have run into a little resistance, if you catch my drift.”

  “You got your period. No babies for another month.”

  Stacie shooed her away and motioned for her to undress. “I bet if you laid here in my lap and closed your eyes, I could make you forget all about dildos.”

  Cathryn left her clothes in a rumpled pile on the floor and returned to the bed. It took several tries to situate herself diagonally across Stacie’s lap so all the relevant hot spots were within reach for both of them. She liked the feel of the soft material on her skin. “I’m closing my eyes now.”

  “Me too, but I’m picturing what this looks like.” Stacie tickled her folds and spread the wetness all around. “I studied you the other night. You have the most lovely labia…brown like cinnamon on the outside, and then underneath it’s bright pink. This part right…here.”

  A finger slid around her opening, sending a jolt deep inside her. “My imagination is wondering where that dildo is.”

  “I’m sure you can beg better than that.”

  As a matter of principle, she held off a bit longer, visualizing the pulsing waves that reached out to pull the fingers inside. Stacie was in charge though. If it was begging she wanted, then begging she’d get. “I need to feel you inside.”

  Stacie entered her with what felt like two fingers, pressing down against the bottom of her canal. The elusive G-spot, where the right amount of pressure drew the hood across her clitoris. In any other position, she’d have wanted more, faster, deeper. Instead she wanted only to ride this sensation all the way home. “I beg you not to stop exactly what you’re doing.”

  The only change was a very subtle increase in pressure, offset by a slowing of strokes. “I bet you’re standing up like a soldier. I studied that too.”

  As she visualized her slick, rippling lips, she sucked in deep gulps of air between her teeth, holding each breath in anticipation of her climax. When it didn’t come, she exhaled with force, only to find herself even more excited. If this one somehow got away from her, she’d die right here in a tangle of nerves.

  And then the magic happened, a burst of vibrations that lasted five or six glorious seconds, the shortest of her life.

  “You have killed me.” She throbbed around Stacie’s fingers, which now were buried deep inside her. “And I died in ecstasy.”

  “Guess I’ll have to roll your dead body off the bed and take care of myself.”

  “No, no. All you have to do is kiss me to bring me back to life.”

  Cathryn closed her eyes as their lips met, savoring a tender sensation that went beyond caution about the injured eye. She could no longer pretend this was just another SappHere hookup. The sex was wonderful, but it was obvious too that they cared for one another.

  They traded sexual adventures until well after midnight, when Cathryn finally dragged herself from the bed. “I have to go. Everyone’s so wound up right now there’s no telling what my i
n-box looks like, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they came knocking on my door at five o’clock in the morning.”

  “If they did, it wouldn’t be a SWAT team. They don’t knock.”

  “I really am sorry about that, Stacie. This is going to be hard for us, you know. I’m not kidding when I say I could lose my job for being with you.”

  Stacie, dressed again in her shirt and panties, followed her to the door. “I know you have a lot more at stake than I do so I’ll leave it up to you where we go from here. I hope you can find a way to see me, because I really like you a lot.”

  “I feel the same about you—even if you’re one of those environmental whacko birds—but it’s riskier for us now that Depew’s guys are checking up on you…and who knows? Probably me too.” She realized she’d already made her decision and didn’t like it one bit. “Maybe we should cool it.”

  “That will suck.” With a grim smile, Stacie kissed her softly on the cheek. “It doesn’t have to be forever.”

  “It won’t be.”

  As Cathryn drove back to her hotel, she contemplated their parting words. SappHere was a hookup app, and neither of them had walked into this expecting anything else. Yet Stacie was unlike any other woman she’d met, and the fact that their lives were intertwined outside of dating deepened their relationship in a way she hadn’t expected.

  It probably couldn’t come to anything, since they lived in different cities and held wildly divergent views on the one issue that practically defined them both. That didn’t mean they couldn’t get together for an occasional weekend, a thought that made her more sad than happy because it wasn’t fair to have to deal with such restrictions. No boss should have that kind of power over her personal life.

  The odor of scotch hit her the moment she opened the door. Depew was asleep on her couch, an open bottle beside him on the floor.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He sat up and blinked, obviously disoriented. Then he held up a plastic key card. “I’m in charge of security, in case you forgot. When you didn’t answer your door, I had to check and make sure you were…secure.” He belched.

  “I am. Now get out.”

  “I answered your question. Now you answer mine. Where have you been?”

  Lying could get her in a heap of trouble, on the off-chance he was sober enough to remember what she said long enough to check it out. But Stacie had given her the perfect cover. “A friend of mine drove up from St. Paul and we met for a drink downtown. Jane Larsen.” There had to be at least a dozen women by that name in the Twin Cities.

  His eyes glazed over as he stood, and for a moment she feared he’d throw up. Instead he staggered toward the door. “About your little press tour…you don’t need to go crying to Hoss when you want something. I’m a reasonable man. I can always work something out.”

  It was all she could do not to slam the door behind him. How dare he let himself into her apartment! She knew now to keep everything personal locked in the safe and to double-check the bolt on the door whenever she was inside. Any more visits like this and she’d file a sexual harassment claim.

  Except Don’t Make Waves. Reporting Depew would end her career.

  Chapter Nine

  The dining room at the Weller Regent bustled with business types and Stacie had worn one of her conference outfits to fit in. It made her look more professional and that was important for this meeting. She’d polished off a mixed fruit bowl with toast, and was chatting with Izzy using her laptop’s instant messenger app.

  “Tankers still coming in all hours of the night. Big staging area in the woods straight across from the cabin. Sneaked out and got the samples you wanted before daylight.”

  According to the video Ricky had streamed the day before, Nations Oil was getting ready to ramp up its operation when, by their own reports, they should be winding down. Little wonder they were doing it under the cover of darkness. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on the new samples and get them tested by a reliable lab.

  She hurriedly typed, “Don’t say anything to Jenn about the samples, okay? Don’t want to hurt Marty’s feelings by using somebody else to do the analysis.”

  “Understand. Btw, Ricky said the main board you sent from the hobby store was bent, but he was able to fix it. Should have another drone up and running by this afternoon.”

  “Sorry about that.” She hadn’t inspected the cache of supplies Marty had gathered before dropping them off, but probably wouldn’t have noticed a damaged board anyway. “You need anything else?”

  “Bananas. Toilet paper. Deck of cards. Will set the samples out tomorrow morning.”

  “Great. I’ll run your stuff out before sunset. Gotta go.”

  Colleen Murray entered the restaurant and Stacie waved her over. “I really appreciate this, Colleen. And I think you will too.”

  The Star-Tribune reporter, a woman in her fifties with Nordic coloring typical of Minnesotans, had in fact acted delighted when Stacie called her for a chat over coffee, especially after the promise of new information based on CLEAN’s research. She came well-prepared for the interview with a stack of articles on oil spills, copies of all the press materials Nations Oil had released and her reporter’s notebook.

  “Some of this has to be off the record. I’m sorry, but we have people in the field whose safety could be compromised. I understand you’re going on a press tour of the cleanup site tomorrow afternoon. Apparently it was invitation only and our people weren’t invited.”

  “I get so mad when they pick and choose who to talk to. It’s like they’re reminding us we have to print what they tell us or they’ll freeze us out.”

  “That’s exactly what they’re doing, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you before you went out there. Maybe you could ask a few questions for us.”

  “Sure, what have you got?”

  “More flyover pictures for starters, but they shot down our drone this time.” Stacie had printed out several frames of the video Ricky had live-streamed before his drone was destroyed, including a close-up of the staging area. “They’re still bringing in equipment. All this came in just three days ago.”

  Colleen studied the first photo with interest. “That makes no sense. They said yesterday they were ninety percent finished. And why would they be bringing in a bulldozer?”

  “To build a dredge pad.” She pointed to the second photo, the same view but from a higher altitude. “See how much land they’ve cleared? They’re going to suck up the whole lakebed and pile it in this clearing. Once they find a dump site, they’ll haul it off one truckload at a time.”

  “I don’t get it. Why would they need to—” Her eyes went wide. “Are you saying the whole lake is contaminated?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. They’ve managed to convince the public, and maybe even the EPA, that this spill has been confined to a small cove inside the containment boom. Ninety thousand gallons. CLEAN thinks it’s a whole lot more.” She went back to the first photo and pointed to two of the machines that had just arrived. “Take another look at this one. These are grab dredgers, used for scooping up heavy sediment. That’s not how you pick up heavy oil. For that, you’d normally use a vacuum and centrifuge.”

  Colleen sifted through her resource materials and produced a photo of a suction dredger. “One of these.”

  “Right. You suck the water in, spin it, fill up a tanker with oil and pour the clean water back into the lake. You hardly have any losses, so it doesn’t make sense they’d use a grab dredger…unless it’s sitting on the bottom—and it’s not really heavy oil.”

  “You think it’s bitumen?” She covered her mouth after realizing she’d nearly shouted the words. “That kid from the school paper who got hassled about smoking pot in his car, Ethan Anders…he asked if that’s what it was.”

  “He had reason to think so.” Stacie explained how she knew Ethan, and that she’d filled him in on her clandestine kayak mission, though she didn’t mention the samples
since the negative results undermined her claims. “Nations Oil was fined seven million dollars two years ago by the PHMSA for moving bitumen through an unapproved pipeline in Wyoming. Another incident like that could earn them a fine five times that size.”

  “Do they actually think they can get away with this? Surely the EPA knows what’s in the lake.”

  She wasn’t going to speculate about Nations Oil paying off the EPA, but it wasn’t out of the question. “They probably don’t have that many inspectors on-site because they’re telling everybody this is a relatively small spill. If it’s bitumen, it’s sitting on the bottom where no one can see it, especially if they aren’t looking out past the boom. Obviously Nations Oil figures they’ll have to clean it up eventually, but they don’t want to get caught doing it because it could screw up their approval on the Caliber Pipeline.”

  Colleen shook her head. “It still doesn’t make sense. How do they think they’re going to dredge that lake without anyone knowing about it?”

  “By continuing to deny access. Have you been keeping up with all the property transfers out there? A friend of mine says Nations Oil is offering way over the market value for every single cabin on the lake. Why do they keep pushing that if the lake’s almost clean?”

  “Good question to ask their spokeswoman.”

  Their spokeswoman. Poor Cathryn would be blindsided again, and would have to bear the brunt of ridicule when her false information was exposed. It was entirely possible she didn’t even know about the dredge pad, since they were moving equipment in at night and it was well past the traffic barricade. Nonetheless, Stacie couldn’t let her personal feelings enter into this, not when exposing this cover-up could torpedo once and for all Nations Oil’s chances of pushing through the Caliber Pipeline. That would be the biggest victory in years for the clean energy movement.