Barbie finally blew out a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to be honest. This ranks as one of the oddest stories I’ve ever heard. In any other situation, I’d just grab my stuff, politely tell you I’d be in touch, and go. However, I know you’re telling the truth, and you’re right to be wary of Tango Bio.”
“We are?” Gray asked surprised.
“You are.” She paused again, took another sip of water, and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve been doing research on this lab for years, and more recently for a story. As a result, Tango Bio has had me on their radar for months, possibly longer. I’ve been stalked, had files disappear, received numerous threats, and my dog was kidnapped, followed by another hostile message warning me to stop my research into the lab.”
Gwen sucked in a quiet breath.
“Did you go to the police?” I asked.
“I did, but as I couldn’t prove it was from Tango Bio, they did exactly nothing.”
I exhaled. “I’m so sorry to hear that, and you’re right to be cautious about us. We would be, too. But I assure you, we’re not from Tango Bio, we’re not competing journalists, and we’re not working for Tango Bio’s competitors. We’re just four women who were enjoying a long weekend in Atlantic City when we found ourselves in the middle of something ugly and decided not to look away. We found your article online and that led us to you. Frankly, right now, we need all the help we can get. We’re worried about Ginger.”
After a minute, she sighed. “I hate to tell you this, but based on everything I know about Tango Bio and their research, I’m afraid your Ginger is, indeed, in great danger.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lexi
As we stared at her, Barbie leaned forward and folded her arms on the table. She had a serious expression on her face.
“Let me tell you a little of my story now,” she said. “Then you’ll understand why I’m going to help you rescue your Ginger and why I want Tango Bio shut down for good.”
We waited expectantly.
“I grew up on a farm in northern Arizona,” she started. “Animals were everywhere. Horses, goats, chickens, dogs, you name it. I loved them all. I wanted to be a vet when I was a kid.”
“What happened?” Basia asked gently.
“My math and science grades,” Barbie said. “Turns out you actually need to pass those classes to become a vet. But I could write. I could tell a really good story. So, journalism became my career.”
She gave a small shrug. “My first job out of college was working for the now-defunct Winslow Mail. Small paper. Small town. I chased whatever landed on my desk—corruption in city council, a shady clinic billing patients for fake procedures, and harassment cases at a high school. Ugly stuff, but it mattered.”
“And then came Vision Zone,” I said.
Barbie nodded once. “That was my break. An insider slipped me photos. Animals in cages. Surgical tables. Behavioral experiments. The conditions…” She swallowed hard. “I still see those pictures…”
The table went quiet.
“Anyway, with my editor backing me,” she continued, “we exposed everything. State and federal authorities came in. They shut it down. For a lot of people in town, I was a hero.”
“But I’m guessing not everyone,” Gray said.
Barbie laughed without humor. “No. Vision Zone was one of the only high-paying employers in the region. I’d just killed their golden goose. Business leaders went after me. Politicians smeared me. They made life hell for my editor. Sources dried up. Eventually I had to leave the area.”
“And the paper?” Gwen asked.
“Collapsed a couple years later,” Barbie said softly. “Turns out small newspapers rarely survive wars with rich people.”
We let that sink in for a moment.
“Anyway, I bounced around the states after Arizona,” she continued. “Nevada. Utah. Environmental reporting. Hazardous materials on federal land. Then the Midwest. Iowa, Illinois. Minnesota. Factory farms. Animal waste pollution. Same story every time—the people hurting animals had money, and the people trying to stop them didn’t.”
“That’s…bleak,” Gwen murmured.
“It is,” Barbie said simply. “But every time I thought about quitting, I’d remember those animals and the people who were too scared to speak up. Someone had to, and it ended up being me.”
“How did you end up here?” I asked.
