Across the room, Liam spoke on his phone. His protective glances would've annoyed me, coming from anyone else, but from him, they felt like a promise.
A few days later, after Tyler Whitaker had been taken into custody, an emergency council meeting had been called. Liam and I sat in the back row of the Town Hall as the council members filled the room with solemn expressions. Whitaker entered last. His usual polished appearance was rumpled. He looked like a man who hadn't slept.
Mayor Thompson called the meeting to order. "We've gathered today to address serious allegations against Councilman Whitaker and his potential involvement in recent fires plaguing our community."
The room was so quiet I could hear a pin drop. Fire Marshal Winters approached the podium, carrying a manila folder and a small digital recorder.
"As many of you may know, a few days ago, Tyler Whitaker was taken into custody for questioning. After the initial denial, Tyler Whitaker provided a full confession." Winters pressed play on the recorder.
"It was my uncle's idea. He said the insurance would cover everything, and we'd split the money. He needed cash to cover some bad investments, but he couldn't sell the properties outright without taking a loss. The fires at the storage units were practice runs. He wanted me to establish a pattern that wouldn't point to him when the fire at his place was set. Then his hate for the new architect got in the way. He added the community center to the list of places to burn, but I couldn't get the fire to catch right. He said I botched the job, and he wouldn't pay me. Man, I don't give a damn about him. If he ain't gonna pay me, I'll turn his ass in."
Winters paused the recording. Liam's hand found mine, and he squeezed gently. The council members' faces showed shock and betrayal as they looked at Whitaker, who sat stone-faced.
The doors opened, and several police officers entered the room.
Mayor Thompson approached the podium. "Thank you, Fire Marshall Winters. Councilman Whitaker, although these are allegations, you are innocent until proven guilty, but we are formally requesting your immediate resignation from this council."
Whitaker didn't flinch or protest. He simply reached into his jacket, pulled out a piece of paper, and slid it across the table.
"Effective immediately, my resignation," he said in a flat voice.
As he stood to leave, police officers approached and escorted him out the door. He never looked my way, and that bothered me because I wanted him to look me in the eye.
As Liam and I stood to leave, Mayor Thompson approached us. "Ms. Daniels, I want to personally express how deeply sorry I am that you were targeted this way. Goodwin Grove values your contribution to our community, and I hope this unfortunate situation hasn't soured your view of our town."
"Thank you, Mayor. No, I'm looking forward to getting back to work without these distractions," I replied.
She nodded, clearly relieved I hadn't planned to sue the town or walk away from the project. Politics first.
In the hallway outside the council chambers, the townspeople surrounded me, some I recognized from the construction site, others I'd seen around in restaurants or local shops.
An older woman briefly touched my arm. "My cousin does construction at the community center, and he said your design is the best thing that's happened to this town in years."
"We should've seen what Whitaker was doing. He's always been about the money, not the community. Sorry, we didn't shut him down sooner," a man in a flannel shirt added.
"You've been so professional through all of this. If someone tried to burn down my project and blame me for it, I would've lost my mind," another woman chimed in.
All the apologies, admiration, and acceptance washed over me. I smiled and thanked all of them for their support. Still, inside, my emotions threatened to overwhelm me. My hands trembled as I accepted their words, and I clasped them together to hide the involuntary reaction.
Liam's hand moved to the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd.
"Ms. Daniels has had a long day, but she appreciates your support," Liam commented diplomatically.
We made it to the parking lot when I realized I'd held my breath, so I exhaled slowly.
"You did great," Liam expressed as he opened the truck door for me.
"I did nothing but sit there and watch that man's life implode," I countered, climbing in.
"You showed more grace than he deserved. Are you ready to go home?" Liam's eyes were on mine. Home. A simple word for what his house had become to me.
"Yes, I'm ready to go home."
We were quiet on the drive. I didn't know why I just wasn't ready to speak, but the moment we got inside, I crumbled. I kicked off my heels, sending them flying across the entryway. I walked into the living room, where I let loose.
"That calculating, manipulative, trash ass man. All this time, all this damn time!"
My hands shook as my tears came fast.
