Read Online Blackmail by Robin Caroll - Free Book Online

She traded the shorts for a pair of slacks, the T-shirt for a blouse and slipped on a pair of flats. After pulling her hair into a loose bun, Sadie scrawled out a quick note to Caleb to let him know what had happened.
    Maybe she’d pass him on her way out.
    She whispered a prayer for God to watch over her brother as she turned the key in the ignition.
    The evening air had only cooled a few degrees. Sadie flipped on the air-conditioning in her old car and steered toward Vermilion Oil. Her mind sorted through what Deacon had told her while she used her cell to call her assistant. If it was as bad as Deacon said, they’d need all hands on deck for damage control.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œIt’s me. I need you at the office pronto.”
    â€œAnother facility?”
    â€œYep, and according to Deacon, this one’s leaked into the bayou.”
    â€œOh, rats.”
    â€œRight. I’m on my way now.”
    â€œMeet you there.”
    Sadie tossed her cell back into her purse, but her mind wouldn’t stop tripping over questions. Who could be sabotaging the facilities? And why? Was it really one of the men who’d been laid off? She’d have to get through her suspect list faster. She hadn’t been able to speak to the investigator Deacon had hired, and she still had twenty-one names to muddle through.
    She didn’t pass her brother on the short drive to the office, which bore even more questions to harass Sadie—Where was Caleb? Was he safe?
    She parked in the back lot to avoid the press Deacon had warned her about. She couldn’t make a statement until she had the most up-to-date information. Sadie slammed the car door and bounded up the back stairs of the office. A group of locals marched around the back parking lot, signs with Get Out of Our Bayou sparkling under the security lights. Could they be so desperate to have the rigs removed from their hunting and fishing grounds that they’d sabotage the facilities? Sadie ignored their shouts as she unlocked the door and slipped inside.
    A rush of cool air splayed against her face as she entered the building. Her footsteps echoed off the walls. She’d barely made it down the hallway before voices reached her.
    â€œSadie, thank goodness you’re here. Deacon’s a mess.” Candy-Jo, Deacon’s wife, stood wobbly in the breakroom, holding two cups of coffee.
    â€œWhere is he?”
    â€œIn the conference area. Sheriff Theriot’s here, as well as a guy from the Department of Environmental Quality. The representative from the state’s Department of Natural Resources is on his way. Deacon’s fit to be tied.”
    Great. The alphabet-soupers. Sadie quickened her steps as she marched to the conference room. She sucked in a deep breath,fighting to appear calm and collected. She steadied herself and rounded the corner. “Good evening. Sorry I’m a little late.”
    Relief flooded Deacon’s face before he turned to the men. “Sheriff Theriot, I believe you know Ms. Thompson.” He nodded at the suit sitting at the conference table. “Mr. Morris, this is my public relations manager, Sadie Thompson.”
    â€œGentlemen.” She nodded, grabbed a legal pad and pen from the desk and took a seat. “What’s the status?”
    â€œThe status, Ms. Thompson, is that one of Vermilion Oil’s facilities has leaked approximately four hundred barrels of crude oil and saltwater into the bayou.” Mr. Morris shoved his wire-rimmed glasses back up his nose. “But that’s just an estimate. The Coast Guard is on its way as we speak and they’ll be able to give us a more accurate amount.”
    Sadie did the math in her head. Four hundred barrels…the spill would take months and millions to clean up. Would this put Deacon in bankruptcy? No, she’d file immediately for federal grants to help in the cost of cleanup. But it would cost Deacon, and not just