Where Rivers Part (26 page)

 40 

J
uliet paced her kitchen, waiting for the teapot to boil, knowing she was in more hot water than she'd earlier recognized.

Alexa Carmichael hadn't only deceived her by hiding her relationship with Greer, knowing Juliet was also romantically involved with him, but she'd lied. Clearly, she'd characterized Robin Ford's departure as voluntary, predicated by a medical situation that left her unable to fulfill her duties.

After pulling out the box of chamomile tea bags, Juliet slammed the cupboard counter. She'd fallen for every bit of untruth Jezebel and Mr. GQ set in front of her—gobbled it up, hungry for their approval and accolades.

She tore open the tiny envelope and tucked the bag into a mug. The whistle blew. She startled and grabbed the handle on the teapot. “Ouch! Blast it!” She quickly withdrew her burning palm.

After slamming the faucet handle up at the sink, she placed her hand under the cold stream of water. With her head thrown back, she closed her eyes against tears that formed, unsure if pain or emotion had prompted their appearance.

She'd been so gullible, believing everything and anything they'd told her. Even when things weren't quite adding up. Even when a small voice inside told her something wasn't quite right—like the night she'd been locked out of the building.

Letting the cold water run across the blisters already forming, she replayed what Malcolm had told her back at the office.

Her QA supervisor had liked Robin Ford, saying she was young but very bright and a hard worker. Malcolm was her first hire, and they'd worked closely to establish well-thought-out lab procedures.

“She wasn't nearly as highly trained as you, Dr. Ryan,” he'd explained. “But I admired the effort she made to do her job well. I enjoyed working with her. In many ways, we were a team.”

The comment jabbed. Making the mistake so many managers promulgate, instead of joining with her lab staff and creating an aggregated effort, she'd elevated herself above them in an effort to feel secure. A critical error in judgment, for sure. Perhaps if she'd signaled she was more available, Malcolm might have felt free to voice concerns and she'd have clued in to problems earlier.

What if together they could have prevented, or at least reduced, the number of people who fell victim to the outbreak? What if the tainted product had been discovered on their own, instead of the CDC officials alerting them to a problem? Tavina's little boy might still be alive, and the entire company wouldn't be in jeopardy.

Not that she cared if Alexa lost her financial holdings, but Juliet agreed with her boss's statement that a lot of good people were employed by Larimar Springs—vulnerable employees who would be hurt if their financial security was suddenly ripped away.

Her hand finally grew numb under the cold water, prompting her to close the faucet. She moved the still steaming teakettle to a cold burner and left the cup empty on the counter.

No amount of chamomile could soothe her conscience.

She moved to the sofa and tucked her legs up underneath, then settled her Mac on her lap, carefully typing “Robin Ford phone number” in the Google search window. Her eyes scrolled the results, settling on a site that looked promising.

She clicked and opened what appeared to be a phone directory. Granted, if she waited until tomorrow, she might be able to access
records at work that would provide the contact information she needed, but this was urgent. She didn't want to wait.

Of the twelve numbers provided, there was little way to know if any of them belonged to the woman she hoped to talk to without calling each one.

And what if the woman didn't have a landline and used a mobile as her primary phone? In that case, Juliet might not have access to the number.

Of the list, four were no longer in service. The first several remaining numbers were not matches. Moving on, she dialed the seventh number—shown listed to Oliver and Robin Ford in Gruene, a popular tourist destination less than an hour north of San Antonio.

Malcolm said Robin had suffered through a series of fertility treatments before becoming pregnant. “Despite employment laws, I never got the impression Alexa was too keen on mixing career and family. Robin confided that Alexa was giving her a hard time about missing work.” He shook his head. “Funny how often women fail to be supportive of other women when it comes to their professional lives.”

He'd gone on to say that shortly after her first trimester, Robin encountered severe difficulties that required her doctors to put her on full bed rest. His own daughter had encountered something similar, and the condition was nothing to fool with.

Unfortunately, her medical situation hit about the same time they started seeing abnormal microbial counts.

“There were a couple of days she still made it in, despite the medical warnings,” he said. “We both worried the Edwards Aquifer might be having a similar situation that was encountered a few years back when discharge back into the system from the San Antonio Zoo presented increased and dangerous fecal matter in the water system.” Malcolm rubbed his hand through his thinning black hair. “Robin's husband showed up at work and scolded her.
Made her stay home, as he should've. In Robin's absence, I took my concerns to Alexa.”

Juliet nodded. “And?”

“And I was told in no uncertain terms she'd already resolved the issue directly with Robin.” Malcolm turned sad. “I'll always regret not forcing the issue. But something she said left me nervous.” His eyes filled with regret. “Frankly, I was scared—even too scared to call the CDC and turn her in. There just wasn't enough evidence to prove anything—you know?”

She'd nodded and patted his arm, promising she understood. She'd assured him she was going to push to find out whatever she could. Which is why she now sat with the phone glued to her ear.

The phone rang again. Juliet sent up a quick prayer, hoping somehow to find and talk to the former quality assurance director. Getting the account directly from her was the only way to fill in the blanks and know the full story. Especially given the questions in her mind, and knowing she'd likely never get the truth from Alexa or Greer.

Together, she and Robin Ford could join forces and take what proof they could piece together to Dr. Breslin.

“Hello?”

The man's voice on the other end sounded about the right age. A baby cried in the background, which was a promising sign she might have the right party.

She cleared her throat. “Hello, I'm trying to locate a Robin Ford, a woman who used to work at Larimar Springs Water Corporation.”

“Who is this?”

Taken aback at his gruff response, she tried to explain. “Uh, my name is Dr. Ryan. Juliet Ryan.”

“What's this got to do with Larimar Springs?”

“I'm the director of quality assurance,” she told him, hoping the man on the other end of the phone could hear her over the
baby crying. “I'm trying to locate the woman who worked in that position before me. I'd really like to talk to her.”

“Yeah, my wife used to work there. I heard all about the outbreak. I'm really sorry for all those people, but frankly, I couldn't think of a better company to have something like that happen to.”

His response didn't entirely surprise her. Obviously, his wife's termination had left bad feelings. Treading carefully, she tried again. “There are some things that—well, to be honest, I'm wondering about a few of the events surrounding your wife's departure from the company.”

“Departure?” he huffed. “That blonde witch fired my wife. Just for trying to do her job.” He paused to try to quiet the baby. “The stress over all that is what did her in.”

Juliet closed her eyes. She knew this would be delicate, but he wasn't making her intentions any easier. “I—I understand. Really, I do. But, if I could just talk to her. Is she there?”

“Is she here? Are you serious?”

“Excuse me?”

“For goodness' sake, because of what was going on with that company, my wife became severely hypertensive and suffered seizures. Her entire system shut down. We nearly lost the baby.”

She swallowed, thinking of little MD hooked up to all those machines. “I'm so sorry to hear that. That had to have been extremely difficult.” She quickly glanced at the computer screen for his name. “Oliver, if this wasn't really important, I wouldn't ask, but I really need to talk to Robin.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said in a solemn voice. “But you're not getting what I'm telling you. My wife is
dead
.”

 41 

J
uliet hurried through the crowded walkways of Market Square, taking special care not to trip in her heels on the terra-cotta Saltillo tiles. Overhead, brightly colored paper flags and strings of lights swayed in a breeze filled with the scent of tamales and grilling onions.

Her stomach growled. Had she even eaten today?

La Margarita was just ahead, with blue and white patio umbrellas lining the outdoor courtyard. When a woman pushing a stroller stopped and bent to check on her child, Juliet ducked around a lamppost and swiftly made her way to a wooden podium stationed at the entrance of the restaurant.

Out of breath, she brushed her hair into place. “I'm Dr. Ryan. I'm meeting Alexa Carmichael and Greer Latham. They should already be seated.”

The man with dark hair and a moustache glanced over his list. “Ah,
bueno
. Yes, this way, please.” He motioned for her to follow and led her inside the iconic establishment with its massive bar and exposed brick interior.

Alexa and Greer were tucked at a table near a window at the back. They both waved as they spotted her walking to the table, as if she was a friend and this was a social event.

As she took her seat, Alexa gave her a wide smile. “I'm so glad you agreed to join us,” she gushed, sounding as upbeat as the mariachi band playing across the room.

Greer held a more wary approach. “Juliet,” he said, acknowledging her with a simple nod as his manicured hand circled the large glass on the table in front of him. His eyes stared at her over the rim as he took a long sip of his frozen margarita. An identical glass stood empty on the table, except for a straw leaning against a crusty salted rim.

“I swear, these are the best margaritas in San Antonio. They add Grand Marnier to only the finest brands of tequilas. We nearly ordered one for you as well,” Alexa rambled, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “But we thought it might melt before you arrived.” She raised her arm to signal the waiter back to the table.

Juliet shook her head. “No, nothing for me.” Alexa's use of the word
we
—as in
us
,
me and
him
,
a couple
—didn't go unnoticed.

A young woman in a brightly colored full skirt and white peasant blouse placed a basket of tortilla chips on their table. From a pitcher she carried in her other hand, she poured salsa into individual molcajetes and scooted the little-legged bowls in front of each of them.

As soon as the waitress moved away from the table, Juliet wasted no time. She glared across the table. “Why did you two want to meet?”
Let them put their cards on the table
first
, she thought.

Greer set his glass on the table. “A few issues have become a bit convoluted lately. We hoped to straighten things out.”

There was a flinty look of determination in his eyes, an intention to defuse any trouble she might cause. Did he think she could be easily manipulated?

She nodded slowly. “Oh, I see. You need to straighten
me
out.”

Greer's jaw twitched. “Don't twist my words. I think you'd be the first to admit, personal lives are separate from professional. This isn't high school.”

She winced at his bold put-down. “Look, Ken. Barbie has moved
past caring about Midge. What's going on here is much bigger than your personal improprieties.”

Alexa flashed a stern look his direction and placed her hand on Juliet's arm. “I think what Greer is trying to say is that Larimar Springs has valued and continues to value your expertise. Your position at the company is secure, despite what you might recently believe.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Juliet spotted a family eating at the next table over—a black family with a little guy about MD's age. He was giggling as his mom wrestled him back into his booster chair.

She took a deep breath. “Let me spell out what I've recently come to believe. The two of you have some kind of game going. I don't know why you hired me exactly, or how you thought I'd never find out about your
personal
relationship—or whatever term you might want to use—but I'm not one who appreciates being exploited.” She turned to Greer. “And you, sir, are as greasy as that junk you slime on your hair to keep it in place.”

Alexa's eyelids batted rapidly. “Let's not let emotion—”

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Oh, cut it, Alexa.”

Her boss's eyes flew open as if Juliet had slapped her. Alexa leaned back in her chair as if to catch her breath.

Greer lifted his glass. “See, I told you.” He downed a large drink of his margarita, then placed it back on the table so hard the glass made a thud.

Alexa flinched. She took a deep breath and fingered the neckline of her butter-colored tank. “Relationships—all of them—tend to be complicated. Right now, a good company filled with hard-working people teeters on how we move forward. Given that, I'd like to focus on the critical issues before us.”

A waiter brought menus to the table, forcing a pause in the conversation. Across the room, the mariachi band finished, and the three men carried their guitars through the doors leading to the courtyard. Ceiling fans whirred overhead as they each buried their attention in the food choices.

When the waiter lifted a pen to his pad, Greer ordered beef fajitas. “And another margarita,” he quickly added.

“The chicken lime salad, please.” Alexa handed off her menu to the waiter.

“And you, miss?”

Juliet closed the menu and handed it to him. “Just iced tea. I'm afraid I've lost my appetite.” She reached inside her bag and took out a copy of the analysis report that had been left in the envelope on her car, glad she'd never revealed anything about it before now. She unfolded the paper and handed it over to Alexa, watching her face carefully for a reaction. “You should see this.”

Alexa scanned the columns of information. She looked up. “What is it?”

Greer snapped it from her hands. He looked it over and frowned. “A water test.”

Juliet nodded. “The test from the tainted pallets. Only, look.” She pointed at the coliform counts. “Everything is within range.”

Greer tossed the report on the table in front of her. “Yeah, so?”

Alexa's face turned the color of uncooked chicken. She cleared her throat. “What are you implying with this?”

Before she could respond, Greer grabbed Juliet's wrist.

Shocked, she pulled away.

He rushed to apologize. “Look, I'm sorry. But you're making a big mistake.”

“Are you threatening me?” she spat back at him.

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “No. I'm simply trying to make you stop and think. If what you are implicating is true—and I'm certainly not conceding that it is—and you take this idea public, you do know Larimar Springs will go down?”

Alexa held up her hand. “This is my fault. Like I told you in my office, I'm the one accountable here. I trusted Robin Ford when she told me there were no safety issues to worry about. I believed her.”

A voice inside warned Juliet not to disclose everything she'd
learned. But she couldn't sit here and tolerate any more lies. She glared at Alexa. “And I believed you when you said she resigned. In fact, what really happened is you terminated her.”

“Who told you that?”

“What does that matter? What really matters is the two of you placed your own financial well-being above innocent consumers, who opened and drank from bottles of our water you knew were tainted with deadly pathogens.” She leaned forward and pointed her finger. “Children were killed.”

Greer glanced around. “Lower your voice. Yes, we made a critical error in judgment. The executive team was buried in work, profits were floundering, and we had to do something.” He nodded in Alexa's direction. “She did everything she could, explored every option. If the deal with Montavan International had gone south, she would have lost it all.”

“I couldn't take that chance,” Alexa said, joining in Greer's argument.

The waiter showed up then with a large tray balanced on his shoulder. With his other hand, he positioned a bussing stand and set the tray down. He placed the salad in front of Alexa and the platter of sizzling fajitas near Greer. “Let me know if you need more tortillas, sir.”

Greer lifted his empty glass. “I need another margarita.”

Alexa scowled.

He frowned back at her. “What?”

When they were alone again, Juliet held up both hands. “Look, I'm not going to be a party to any of this.”

Greer smirked and stabbed a piece of beef with his fork. “Don't kid yourself, Juliet. You are already involved.”

“What do you mean?”

He pointed at her purse with his fork. “I don't know how long you've known, but seems to me you failed to take that little piece of paper directly to the authorities.” He slid the fork in his mouth
and chewed, talking with his mouth full. “What's that going to look like?”

Alexa nodded. “Or the fact that you were regularly spending the night with the company's sales director.”

Her comment knifed.

“Or that you were having private lunches on the Riverwalk with Cyril Montavan and making plans to visit him in Italy,” Greer said, pushing the blade in deeper.

“In fact, you met with him fairly regularly,” Alexa added. She took a bite of her salad, the color returning to her skin.

Juliet's gut squeezed at the implication. They'd followed her. Had they also tracked her phone and email messages?

A slow, disheartening breath leaked from between her lips. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but she'd been a fool to believe she could force their hand without them pushing back.

A little tremor raced down Juliet's spine, and she tried not to visibly shiver. Greer noticed and a calculating smile sprouted on his chiseled face. She knew that smile, knew what it meant. The salesman was about to close the deal.

“We've talked to John Lucier. Our attorney assures us that as a member of the executive team and an officer of Larimar Springs, and especially given your assigned duties as quality assurance director, you could easily be implicated in a criminal action. But don't worry. I'm sure all the lab rats, including your father, would visit you in jail.”

A ripple of disgust moved through her. She looked at the man with all his empty margarita glasses, this stranger she thought she knew, who believed he could raise the threat of government prosecution and slap her down.

“You're one lucky pair, you know that? Greer hangs out in a golf club one day and runs into a highly trained microbiologist, the answer to everything. You simply threw the bait and waited for her to bite. Then you lured her under your sheets and into an interview with the boss you were already tangled up with, in more
ways than one. Who else to keep your nasty secrets than the gal you set up to take the fall if this all went down?”

Her former boyfriend watched her, his eyes proprietary and cool, calculating how she'd tipped the balance of their carefully measured world, placing everything that mattered to them in jeopardy.

Her actions could sink their plans to expand, to eventually go global. Alexa Carmichael wanted to elevate Larimar Springs to rival Nestle or PepsiCo, competitor bottled water conglomerates that held over 90 percent of the industry in their control.

Now, Juliet held the power to topple everything. They knew it, and intended to make sure that if she made the decision to toss their ambitions in the fire, they'd burn her as well. And maybe even Cyril in the process.

A flicker of doubt, like reaching tendrils, wove itself around her righteous anger. She considered abandoning the notion she could resist them before any of this grew out of control, but she couldn't bring herself to fully swallow the barbed hook.

Even so, she glanced at her hands and was surprised to see them tremble. She thought of her mother, and the faith she often relied on. If ever Juliet needed God, it was now.