But what was interesting was the summary of the company itself. She had expected to discover that it was a subsidiary of a subsidiary, and that tracing the holding companies back far enough would reveal which of her crosstown development rivals was throwing up roadblocks. But the report wasn’t that complicated. Superior Construction was only a few years old, and it didn’t have much real history at all. It had never been awarded a contract with the city—it was unclear that it had ever made bids on any projects, which the lawyers found encouraging because proving West Corp hadn’t damaged their business would be that much easier. But the details still nagged at Celia; she couldn’t help but think this was all smoke and mirrors. Most telling: The company had a CEO and board listed. But the ultimate ownership? Hidden behind the law firm that had drawn up the incorporation papers. Which meant the whole thing was a front that apparently existed for the sole purpose of making Celia’s life difficult. And she had a pretty good idea who might be behind it.

But suspecting that Danton Majors had thrown up a fake company to derail West Corp and proving it were two different matters.

Before dinner, she drifted to Anna’s room, stepping softly and listening carefully, not eavesdropping so much as feeling like she was edging toward a minefield. She didn’t know what was going to happen.

Steeling herself, she knocked softly on the door frame. “Anna?”

Celia expected to hear shuffling as Anna stopped whatever she was doing to arrange herself in front of her homework instead. But she only heard music playing softly from her computer.

“Yeah?”

“Mind if I peek in?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Anna said, and Celia cracked open the door.

Anna was lying across her bed in front of an open book. History text, looked like. So the kid really was doing homework; Celia never doubted. The girl looked up, blinking expectantly. She’d changed out of her school uniform and into grubby jeans and a T-shirt. Her red hair was loose, flopping around her face, and she chewed absently on a fingernail. She looked comfortable. Like a normal teenager. The sight filled Celia’s heart to bursting.

“Everything okay?” Celia asked. “You’ve seemed a little preoccupied lately.” Understatement. Celia was fishing. But barging in here informing her that her father knew very well she was sneaking out wouldn’t make her any more chatty.

“Fine. Mostly fine, I guess. Stressed out at school and the usual. But okay.”

“Good,” Celia said, mentally flailing because she didn’t want the conversation to end there, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “That’s good. You know, if you need help, if there’s anything I can help with…” More flailing. Celia could wrap the city’s wealthiest and most powerful around her finger, but she couldn’t talk to a teenager.

Anna’s brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

It shouldn’t be so difficult to say out loud, but it was. Wasn’t going to get any easier, but Celia brushed past the moment anyway. She was protecting Anna, she rationalized. No need to dump any more problems on the kid. “There’s a lot going on right now. It’s getting hard to juggle.”

Was that a smile flashing on Anna’s lips? It might have been. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been thinking about the beach house a lot,” Celia said. “We should take a trip out that way. Maybe for spring break.” The planning committee nonsense would be all wrapped up by then. She’d be just about done with treatment. Maybe by then she could drop some of those balls she was juggling.

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Anna said, and sounded like she meant it.

“All right, then. I’ll put it on the calendar.”

“Okay. Cool.”

With that, Celia quit while she was ahead, left her daughter alone, and retreated. For one brief, brilliant moment, she and Anna had been on the same page, and Celia took that warm feeling and held on to it tightly.

TWELVE

&n

bsp; DIRECTOR Benitez must have called Mom about her falling asleep in class—she certainly threatened to—but Anna couldn’t figure out why Celia didn’t confront her about it. Instead, Mom had shown up at her door with that weird, probing conversation. Not that Anna was complaining. But it was becoming clear that everyone around here was acting wonky, and Anna was afraid it was her fault. She was the one throwing the family off, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

She splashed cold water on her face to try to keep it from looking so worn and trod very quietly for the rest of the evening, hoping no one would notice her. Dinner was tense. Not even Bethy talked but kept looking at everyone as if waiting for them all to explode. Anna wasn’t going to be the one to light that fuse.

And Dad just kept watching her. She repeated her favorite insipid pop song to herself over and over again, filling her mind with it, so he couldn’t possibly see what was really there. His wry smile when he finally looked away was downright insulting, like he knew her tricks and saw right through them. He was just waiting for her to crack, and she wouldn’t. She refused.

She and Teddy didn’t have an outing planned that night, and Anna had the luxury of a long, splendid sleep.

The morning brought the news that the case against Scarzen had been dismissed and the guy walked. The defense lawyer argued that the evidence was obtained illegally. The DA argued that the anonymous tip gave probable cause that allowed the police to search the premises. Defense came back to say that because no one knew how the original tip was obtained, it could not be admissible, and therefore the subsequent police search was illegal. And the judge threw it out.

“The judge is crooked, want to bet?” Teddy said at school. “Scarzen must have paid him off.”

Anna thought he might be onto something. Everyone knew he was guilty, so how had he been let go on a technicality? Anna looked it up. There’d been other cases where evidence obtained by anonymous tips, or even provided covertly by superhuman vigilantes, had decided cases, so why throw such evidence out now? Crooked judge. Made perfect sense, because if the justice system were infallible, the city wouldn’t need superheroes.

They made a plan to spy on the judge that night. They figured there must be some evidence of a payoff, which meant bank statements or deposit stubs. Probably made as anonymously as possible. Maybe they only had to point out that the deposit was there and let the authorities take over. Teddy could go insubstantial, reach into any safes the guy had, and pull out any records. Paper was light enough he ought to be able to make it go insubstantial, like he did with his clothing.

Tags: Carrie Vaughn Golden Age Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net