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“I spoke with Sylvia today, the woman from the Green Warriors group. She confirmed that she works for Ethos.”
Zack furrowed his brow. “Why would she be part of the environmental group?”
“Hang with me for a second.” Naya pushed her empty plate to the side. “She claims it’s undercover work for Ethos. Rumor has it that the Green Warriors are the ones using the river as a dumping ground for waste that is contaminating the water.”
“Okay. That sounds more like blame shifting, but go on…” Zack pulled a pen from his pocket and scribbled down notes. “What do they gain from that?”
“Grants from the government. Money from donors who think they’re trying to protect the environment. Insurance coverage for those who are sick.”
“If that’s the case, the environmental group is hurting for funding.”
“Exactly. But I haven’t come across any information to support that claim—yet.”
“If they are behind it, where are they dropping off their waste?”
“That’s what Sylvia is trying to find out too.”
“The sandbag. On the mountain.” Zack stood up and paced the length of the table.
“That’s an idea. You did say the burlap bag didn’t fit the typical kind used to put out fires.”
“The river’s not far from the mountain. What if those bags are being used to transport the waste?”
“It still doesn’t answer the why. Or how the two cases are connected.” Naya tapped her knuckles on the table. “But it’s absolutely worth looking into.”
“I still think we’re missing a big piece to this puzzle.” Zack paused and ran his fingers through his hair. “Does it seem like the paint fumes are getting worse?”
She should open a window.
Naya headed for the kitchen. “If the note was only a warning for me to stop writing this story…”
“Then that means the explosion at Powells’s house and my car were intended for you.”
Naya turned from the window and frowned. There were too many parts to this story that could be interconnected or one-sided.
How were they going to put this together?
“Powells’s comments suggest the opposite. He seems convinced whoever killed my parents is still out there and doesn’t want to be found.” Zack opened the fridge and sniffed. “Nothing in here smells bad.”
“You sure?” Naya bent her head toward the appliance. All good. But the rotten smell wafted to her nostrils too, different than the paint fumes. “Then where’s it coming from?”
“Do you have natural gas?”
She nodded.
Zack slammed the refrigerator door shut and yanked her stove away from the wall. “I think you have a leak.”
Naya stepped back and gripped the counter.
Zack opened her cupboards until he found a cup, then filled it with water and soap. “Where’s a brush?”
She pointed to the canister of utensils under the microwave.
Zack rubbed the solution on the pipe.
“Open the windows and call the fire department.” Zack’s tone was sharp.
Naya raced to the windows off the eating area and yanked them open. She rushed back to him, pulling out her phone.