Page 102 of Thorns and Ashes
“A transmission line. The Arias-Northern Link pipeline. Thirty-six inches wide. Runs straight through the canyons under the ridge.”
I swallow hard, the words tasting wrong.
“It carries crude under insane pressure.”
Her face pinches, telling me she has no idea what I’m talking about.
I take a deep breath, my chin dipping before continuing. “That kind of line is supposed to be tested constantly. There’s supposed to be corrosion checks, integrity tests, the whole deal.”
I shake my head, glancing down at the envelope in her hands before looking away again.
“Everyone thought the pipeline rupture was some freak pressure surge,” I explain, trying to help her understand. “When it blew, investigators said the metal must’ve been compromised.”
I stop, turning back to her as my stomach churns.
“They were supposed to run integrity checks on that thing constantly. Corrosion reports, cathodic protection tests, stuff that keeps the steel from thinning out.”
My eyes drop back to the invitation, imagining the type of man that would choose money over integrity, over innocent lives.
“Those checks have to be signed off on by the CFO.”
Silence stretches between us, and I exhale slowly.
“Not waived,” I add, my voice tightening. “Certified. Someone had to sign saying the inspections were completed. That everything was within safety margins.”
I look away, pinching my eyes closed, finally getting to my point.
“If your dad signed those reports...” My jaw clenches. “Then he didn’t only approve the pipeline. He approved the safety checks that said it wasn’t failing.”
I rise from my chair, unable to stay seated as the implications stack up.
“And it’s not only the pipeline, is it?” I say, half under my breath as I grip the railing of the porch and press into it. “There were rig explosions last year. Two of them. Same company.”
I scrub my hands over my face again before bringing my hands down hard on the railing.
“Those rigs run the same kind of inspection cycles. Structural checks, pressure systems, corrosion reports. And those get certified at the same level.”
Slowly, I turn around, finally looking Tris in the eyes.
“So either your father was signing off on safety reports that said everything was fine...” I pause, the words fighting to come out.
“If those signatures were his,” I say quietly, “then the pipeline failure... the rigs...” My throat constricts. “The wildfires... They weren’t accidents. They were his fault.”
We stare at each other as my accusation settles between us. Tris’s mouth opens with silent understanding.
“There’s no way to prove it,” she argues. “There’s no paper trail. Maybe you’re wrong.”
My eyes search hers, looking for the conviction behind her words, but it isn’t there. Not even she believes that her father is innocent in this. I tilt my head and raise my brow in disagreement.
“It’s not like my father is going to admit it. I’ll be expected to stand beside him as he reassures everyone at this ‘soirée’ that this whole thing is nothing more than a huge misunderstanding.”
Shock hits me like a physical blow. How, after everything that I’ve explained to her, can she show up to support that man? Rage begins to boil in my blood, replacing the ice that was there only moments before. She’s probably right. He’ll get away with it. The thought makes me want to drive my fist through the entire Justice system.
“You can’t go,” I snap.
She jerks back, her brows shooting down. “Excuse me?”
“He killed Krystal!” I shout, my body trembling as I try to keep calm.
