“Yes,” Deedra said. “We’ve been stalling on finishing up writing our legislation on this until after the polls. The idea is, if he loses, maybe the next mayor will be more open to it.”
“I’ve seen Mayor Browning’s approval ratings. He’s not losing.” Felicity eyed them both. Surely they had a plan B.
“The race is tightening.” Deedra said, apparently trying to find a positive spin.
“No, it isn’t,” Felicity said with certainty. “Browning has big business in his pocket. Funding. A solid message. He’s not losing. I’ve also seen his competition. Her messaging is all over the place. Browning will be re-elected. You know I’m right.”
Deedra and Cooper exchanged tense looks.
“Well, fuck,” Cooper muttered. “There goes any hope for fixing this shit.”
Deedra sagged. “Mm.”
“Not…necessarily.” Felicity’s mind began to churn. This, at least, was something in her wheelhouse. “You”—she pointed to Deedra—“need to tell me everything you know about the upcoming legislation.”
“I—excuse me?” Deedra peered at her. “I’m not following.”
Felicity didn’t care whether she followed or not. She could see quite clearly Kristie never getting off the street again, the way things were going. It wasn’t rescuing if she fixed an injustice, was it? Besides, it would be helping everyone, not singling her out. It was just correcting an issue. And Felicity was damned good at fixing problems, especially where the law was involved.
She went to a small fold-up table near the back of the tent, beckoning for Deedra to follow her. “How long do we have?”
“Until?”
“The mayor’s arrival.”
“Two hours.”
Felicity glanced at her watch. “All right, then. We’ll have to work fast.” She pulled out her phone and began tapping furiously, then making notes. Facts were not difficult to lay her fingers on. Google, I could kiss you.
“What are you doing?” Cooper asked, looking mystified.
“Changing the mayor’s mind.” Felicity studied with satisfaction the results she was seeing on her screen. She punched in the number for Bartell Corp’s senior accountant.
“Thomas? Felicity Simmons. I need you to drop whatever you’re doing and help me crunch some numbers. Accuracy and speed are paramount. Also, I’ll need someone to fact-check stats from news sources as I send them. We only have two hours.” She laid the phone down, tapped in an email address, and hit send. Then she scooped it up and resumed speaking. “Can you double-check my math, too? I’ve sent an email on everything I need.”
She listened as Thomas made keyboard clacking noises, then glanced over to Deedra, covering her phone’s microphone. “What are you waiting for? Sit. Here. Now.” She tapped the other side of the table. “Be part of the solution.”
Thomas spoke in her ear again, regaining her attention. “Looks simple enough. I’ll get back to you. And your math seems right, but I’ll double-check it anyway.”
“Good,” Felicity said, the thrill of the hunt filling her. She glanced at the time. “One hour and fifty-five minutes, Thomas. Do not let me down.”
“I’m on it, Ms. Simmons.”
She ended the call and met Deedra’s eyes. “Everything you know about your legislation.” She reached into her handbag, pulled out a pen, and pushed it across the table, then flipped over a pile of vet-care brochures scattered on the next table that had blank backs. “Write it down now.” And tapped them.
“I’m sorry, but who are you again?” Deedra looked as if she’d been hit by a speeding truck.
“I’m a lawyer who knows how to fix this.”
Cooper choked, looking astonished.
“I am also the deputy chief operating officer of Bartell Corporation,” Felicity finished. And this time, it finally sounded real.
Deedra, eyes wide, glanced at Cooper, then Felicity. Then she picked up the pen and began to write.
* * *
“How long have you known Cooper?” Felicity asked as she and Deedra made their way toward a makeshift stage area. According to Deedra’s estimate, the mayor would be here to do his publicity stunt speech in under five minutes.
“We met years ago, one of the many times she addressed the council demanding more rights for homeless people’s animals. She fought a good fight but lost on that issue.”
“Does she lose often?” Felicity asked.
“Truthfully?” Deedra’s lips quirked. “Quite often. She’s passionate and emotive about her animals, but that doesn’t sway lawmakers. She’s hopelessly disorganized, jumps from topic to topic, makes a big speech, but it’s all over the place. What’s needed is a cool, hard head, a legal mind who can shred arguments.” She eyed Felicity. “And that’s you, isn’t it? I looked you up while you were researching. You handle all legal issues from all over the world for Bartell Corp newspaper buyouts and mergers.”
“I used to until recently.” Felicity said. And for the first time in a long time, she decided not to hide how proud that made her. “My strength is in finding loopholes, hidden information, seeing what the other side is hiding. The mayor won’t know what’s hit him.”
“I hope so. But why are you helping Living Ruff? What have they got to do with you or your corporation?”
“I’m spending a few days determining whether a donation is a good idea or not for my boss.”
“You suspect it might not be?” Deedra sounded incredulous.
“I like to form conclusions based on facts I’ve obtained personally. Why is that surprising?”
“I thought it was common knowledge that Living Ruff is gold star. They’re one of the best charities our council deals with.”
“And Harvey Clifford?”
