ChapterThree
Bobbie
Bobbie rolled out of bed and into her clothes. No sane person got up before the sun. Mornings were for birds and worms, not for people who valued sleep, but she had no choice. When her mother lay on her deathbed, she said, “Bobbie, fight for the world.” That day she promised her mother’s death would not be in vain. She refused to allow another family to suffer because the owners of Aspen Construction were lying, cheating idiots.
Yesterday was a failure and made her rethink her strategy. She’d studied the ways activists could stall construction projects. Chaining herself to the door had been the first in a long line of options. However, it hadn’t gone quite as planned. If she had been thinking, she would have chained all the entrances and then chained herself to the front door. Visibility was what she needed. A sunburn was what she got. Beau was right. She needed to come better prepared next time.
Although several people glanced her way as they passed, one girl was hardly enough to make a ripple, and she needed a tsunami. The owners of Aspen Construction were responsible for her mother’s death, and she was dead set on making them pay. New to this activism stuff, she refused to let a little failure sideline her efforts. She’d expected there to be a scene. She didn’t expect strong, dark, and sexy—with eyes the color of the summer sky—to check her out, then turn and leave her strapped to the door.
It had been just over a year since Mama died. Her new normal felt comfortable, and she was adjusting to the loss when she read the advertisement that changed everything. Schiff and Hundley were renovating the old Mint storage facility. She thought she’d buried them when she’d run them out of town, but no, they filed for bankruptcy and regrouped. They were no longer Paradox Construction. They re-established their business under Aspen Construction and were back in business. They were a viral mutation that continued to spread, wreaking havoc on the innocent. Like any other contagion, they needed to be neutralized.
Her private-eye skills weren’t stellar, but she’d kept tabs on them. Newspaper clippings and sticky notes covered her living room wall and constantly reminded her of their negligence. It was a detailed map of everything Pete Schiff, Todd Hundley, and their partners had done throughout their careers.
She’d spent days at the licensing board trying to persuade them to deny the permits, but Schiff and Hundley had money and connections.
It was her goal to stop them, but if that wasn’t possible, then at least she could make it costly and painful for them to do business. Last night, after Beau had left the diner, she pinged every social media site to ask for help. It would be interesting to see how many people showed. Bullshit walked, but money talked, and she’d throw cash at anyone who came.
An hour later, she stood on the curb of 911 Larimer and handed out signs and fifty-dollar bills. Hundreds of people showed up for the cash. They didn’t care about the cause, but that didn’t matter. Creating a media buzz was what she was after.
Had Beau done his due diligence when scouting out this company? Even if he had investigated Aspen Construction, he likely didn’t come up with much. The company was fresh and new. Paradox Construction held the most recent clues to their dastardly deeds. If he wanted to get some dirt, he’d need to dig into the individual pasts of Pete and Todd. But then again, they had buried their history like the mob had buried Hoffa’s body. You had to know the exact place to look. Otherwise, you’d be digging forever. She couldn’t fault him for information he didn’t have. But she wanted to.
* * *
Beau
Thoughts of Bobbie kept him up all night. Before parking at the site, he licked the last bit of pie filling from his fingertips.
Uh-oh!There she was, standing front and center in a line of people holding signs that said everything from Aspen Construction Kills to Stop the Insanity. The sign that Bobbie held had a picture of a woman who looked like an older version of her. Oh, holy hell. It now made sense. She wasn’t an activist. She was an active daughter.
Pete Schiff and Todd Hundley had received some negative publicity because of the negligence of their last project manager. They had been upfront about their troubles before he took the job. Several factors influenced that decision:
They had been honest.
They were willing to take a chance on him even though he was young.
They had approached this job with caution and care, ensuring Aspen Construction met all safety guidelines.
The salary they offered would allow him to get his mother out of the roach-infested apartment they’d been forced to live in after they had settled Dad’s estate.
He could add to the capital he’d need to rebuild Westhaven Construction.
He couldn’t be held responsible for the decisions that had been made before him. The foreman in charge of the Parker project under Paradox Construction was in jail. He’d unearthed storage containers of toxic chemicals. After finding out the cost of disposing of them properly, he opted to bury them. In the process, he ruptured several of the fifty-five-gallon barrels. It didn’t take long for the deadly chemicals to leach into the water table and infect several wells in the area. Two years later, women were having fertility problems, and several residents had developed cancer. Two years after that, the death toll was in double digits.
He took a deep breath and exited his truck. Before he could form a thought or plan, his phone rang. Pete’s name lit up the screen. This wasn’t good. It was only his second day on the job, and all hell broke loose.
“I’m on it, Pete!” He shouted into the phone before hanging up. He knew his boss had to be calling about the protesters. News trucks were already set up and filming. Aspen Construction didn’t need the bad press. This was a mending mission, and his job was to restore their name.
The protesters were locked arm in arm, creating a human fence. His crew was standing off to the side, chatting it up. This was a habit he needed to break. They didn’t care if their workday had been delayed because they got paid, regardless.
He cared because it hit the bottom line, and that reflected on him. Without this job, he had nothing to fall back on, so giving in to Bobbie wasn’t an option. He put on his gloves and hard hat and approached the line.
Dead center with her arms linked to others was the little rebel. Why was she always at the center of everything?
He nodded. “Morning, Bobbie.” His tone was friendly, but that could change on a dime if she insisted on ruining his day.
“Beau.” She spread her legs and firmed her stance.
What did she think he’d do? There was no way he’d use force to cross the line. That wasn’t the way he worked. More was solved with words than violence. Besides, the press was recording everything. He could see the headlines now. Local construction company strong-arms their way into the site. Aspen Construction is breaking the law again.