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Kaden peeled off the papers that were stapled together. They had an EPA crest at the top to indicate they were official reports.
“Maybe you’ll recognize these.” He held them toward Tate.
The mayor shook his head, pretending to be confused as he glanced at the various charts and graphs.
“Nope.”
“They’re EPA reports.”
Tate shoved them back at Kaden. “These are fifteen years old. Who cares?”
Kaden pulled out the next forms. Unlike the complicated graphs, these were a straightforward listing of the various violations. Even he could understand them.
“I’m certain the citizens of Pike would be very interested in the fact that the meatpacking plant was allowing their wastewater to be dumped into the city reservoir,” he said. “Probably from the day it was built. And that you turned a blind eye to the health risks.”
“Wastewater?” Tate tried and failed to sound shocked by the accusation. “I don’t know anything about that.”
Kaden rolled his eyes. The mayor made a habit of knowing nothing. Was it a politician thing?
“Really? It’s right here in black and white.” He waved a form in front of Tate’s face. “And here.” He waved another form. “And here. And here.” He pointed toward the bottom of the page. “Plus, that’s your signature at the bottom.”
Tate’s expression hardened. “You can wave those around all you want. I can promise you, there was never an official report.”
Kaden pulled out another paper. When he’d first glanced through the forms, he’d been puzzled by the technical terms, but the actual citation had been simple and straightforward. The Pike Meatpacking Plant had been caught dumping its wastewater into the nearby reservoir. The mere thought was enough to make his stomach churn in protest.
“Only because you paid Vanna Zimmerman not to file the violations.”
“You don’t have any proof of that.”
“I didn’t. Until this.” Kaden pulled out the bottom page and turned it toward Tate.
The man paled even as he tried to act indifferent. “A bunch of numbers and letters.”
“That’s what I thought too. Until a very clever friend revealed they’re international bank routing numbers attached to shell corporations.”
“So?” Tate shrugged. “I’m sure Burke had lots of accounts spread around. He was always trying to avoid paying taxes.”
“Vanna had matching account numbers.”
Tate took a step away from the desk, his expression tight. “Look, if Burke was paying bribes it was none of my business.”
Kaden narrowed his gaze. The forms might have been in Burke’s possession when he died, but it was Tate’s signature on the dotted line. He’d known all about the nasty water being dumped illegally.
Right now, however, he was more interested in the one photo that was in the envelope, which revealed a familiar, dark-haired woman in a leather jacket with an EPA badge on the shoulder. Vanna Zimmerman. She was facing a man who was only an inch taller than her, with dark hair and a narrow face. He was wearing an expensive cashmere coat despite the fact it was snowing, along with leather shoes. There was no mistaking it was Tate Erickson. In the background, Kaden could make out the extension office, although it looked considerably different in the past. There was a fresh coat of paint on the wooden slates and a large wooden sign in the front yard directed visitors to the front door. And in the driveway was a pickup truck that looked vaguely familiar.
Kaden was assuming the photo was taken by Burke, and the businessman had kept it as insurance to maintain a grip on the mayor.
Turning the photo around, he held it toward the mayor. “What about this?”
Tate cast an impatient glance at the picture, no doubt intending to dismiss it with another claim of ignorance. Instead, his mouth fell open with unmistakable shock, as if he’d seen a ghost.
Kaden arched his brows at the intense reaction. When he showed Tate the proof he’ d been paying bribes to Vanna and allowing potentially dangerous wastewater into the city reservoir, he’d been defensive but confident he could somehow argue his way out of being blamed. As if he’d been preparing to be caught for years.
Now he snatched the photo from Kaden’s hand, gazing down at Vanna with a strange expression.
“This . . . this isn’t what you think.”
Kaden frowned. Why did the photo bother him? Because it was visible proof he’ d known Vanna? And that he’ d spent time in her company?
