Paloma made a face. “Moss is reporting his campaign war chest entirely as a loan he took out on the country club.”
“What bank?” Magdalene raised an eyebrow.
“No bank listed,” Paloma replied.
There was silence, broken only by the sounds of the restaurant around them.
“Well, then. I guess I will have to ask more questions.” Magdalene took out her phone and made a note. Paloma nodded.
“Legally, he is not breaking any rules. He has already disclosed more than he needed to. I have not stated what funds of mine I am using for my campaign. The fact that I have that much liquidity in my business is widely known. He could’ve just as easily stated that he is using his own funds. But he mentioned the club and the loan.”
Victoria made a disgusted face. “Men can’t help themselves. Either they don’t say a word for years, or they spill their guts for no reason.”
“The two of you would know best.” Paloma tried not to make a face, but in the end, she knew she must’ve looked like someone who had sucked on a lemon wedge.
“Touché.” Magdalene laughed. “Having been married to one of them, I can confirm they can’t get out of their own way. I’ll do some digging, if you don’t mind, and will let you know what I find out.”
Paloma gave her a long look. “I don’t mind. I just want to know why you’re doing this. Either of you, for that matter.”
Victoria was the first to speak.
“My wayward niece being stuck on you aside, I happen to like you very much. Actually, if said wayward niece decides to move aside, I’ll remind you that I’m right here, dead husband notwithstanding.” Victoria grinned and winked, making Paloma smile.
“As for me, being happily married and all that jazz.” Magdalene nudged Victoria with her elbow as the older woman giggled. “I love Dragons. The island and the school. And I happen to think you’d make an amazing mayor. Simple as that. And I like you too. When I was looking at prospective holders of the lease of Viridescent, I wanted someone like you, someone I could trust, someone I respected. So who you were made it an easy choice, though Goddess knows you fought me every step of the way for better conditions of the lease, Ms. Allende.”
Magdalene propped her chin on her hand and gave Paloma a conspiratorial look. “And to open even more parentheses, since we are being candid, some of the concessions you got from my Dragons were only because of exactly how much I liked you and wanted you to be my business partner. Fifty years is a long time to be locked into a deal with someone you don’t have the right fit with. Longer than a marriage. Certainly longer than my first one.”
Victoria waved away an approaching server, making sure they weren’t interrupted before commenting, “You and I won’t have a fifty-year deal, Paloma. A mayor’s term is only five years, and even with the possibility of several consecutive mandatesin Crow’s Nest, it won’t be fifty years. But I do care how those years will be spent. Goddess knows Fowler served long enough, and you tend to become a villain after being a hero if you overstay you welcome. I would like to finally respect the person representing my town.”
She stood up, stretching her back subtly, and Paloma found it strange that when she was joking about finding her attractive, Victoria mentioned Deryn. Yet now, when they were talking about the longevity of a relationship, the older woman did not bring up her niece at all. A potential relationship between them could very well outlast a mandate?—
Her mind screeched to a halt at the territory her thoughts had entered. Longevity? Relationship? Deryn?
¡Ay, mi madre!
Paloma wanted to laugh at herself. She must’ve had too much caffeine—or not enough—to be thinking these lines of thought. Clearly, Victoria did not seem to entertain the idea of her and Deryn having any kind of longevity in their relationship. Magdalene’s earlier doubts did not bode well either. Maybe she was missing something? Maybe she was giving away something essential that others were picking up on?
She opened her purse and got her wallet out. She laid her card down, and Victoria motioned for service without saying a word. Magdalene just lifted an eyebrow when Paloma paid the entirety of the check. They usually went Dutch.
However, Paloma was too preoccupied by her earlier idiocy to consider her actions. She thanked the host and Magdalene, assured both of them of their standing commitment to the second week of the month lunches, and excused herself, leaving behind two slightly perplexed women.
She walked into the crowded Market Square, people milling around, dressed in colorful winter jackets, carrying stacks of wrapped packages, or just standing around and chatting withthe Christmas market vendors. She could hear Greg talking someone’s ear off while he cooked sandwiches, and Marsha McMons berating a gaggle of kids for hitting her with a snowball. And above it all, the town hall flew the flag of Crow’s Nest, the three dragons and a crow waving proudly in the slight breeze. The sun glinted off the snow, the ocean whispered just a stone’s throw away, and bells of merchant doors were ringing with incoming or outgoing customers. It was all picture-perfect, like a snow globe. So pretty. So precious.
Something tugged at her heartstrings, making her turn toward the Ferry Pier, and there was Deryn Crowhart, her leather jacket paired with a forest-green scarf, those ridiculous jeans, and the eyes that held the whole world. Eyes that watched her with longing Paloma could no longer ignore. She should, by god, she should. Paloma tried to cling to her reasons. To the betrayals. Women like Deryn left her in a heap on the floor as they moved in and out of her life and onto the next in line. And women like Deryn just damn died on her, leaving her all alone and ruined, which, in the end, was much, much worse.
She knew a vision was coming on even before it darkened her eyesight. It wasn’t one of the familiar ones of her descending from the boat or looking at the stunning, young redhead who really should not have been smiling at her at all.Lynnie.She knew her name. She’d seen herself call out that name many times in these dreamlike visions. And Lynnie would always answer. Call for her, reach out to her… The visions varied along similar lines, and Paloma always knew how they ended. Usually in warmth and sunshine, in a fire that never burned. In an embrace that felt forbidden and dangerous, yet truer and more sacred than anything else she had ever experienced… Paloma would always swipe the long red fringe off the smooth forehead before getting on tiptoes and placing a kiss there, making Lynnie smile.
And yet, in this one, Lynnie was bloody and bruised, and Paloma was helpless and alone. All the wooden doors, colorful and pretty, were slamming in her face as she called for help. Alone, so alone, with the wounded woman in her arms, even as men screamed for her to leave.
“Isamar Moreno, we banish you from Crow’s Nest! You are never to return! The refuge you built shall be destroyed!”
And suddenly, Paloma knew.
IM.
Moreno was her father’s line—she had flipped the names of her parents in her quest for independence. And it was the line that she had a lot of difficulty tracing back, a few generations missing entirely from all archives, as all the documentation seemed to be either lost or deliberately destroyed.Isamar. Lynnie.She’d have to dig in the town’s archives, but she had a feeling she knew what she’d find. As for the house? That in itself was the biggest clue to her seemingly impulsive decision. And yet, it was not impulsive at all. Things were coming full circle. She’d just have to be very careful that the circle did not close.
She shook herself out of the vision, her eyes refocusing on Market Square and, above all, on Deryn. A Crowhart with emerald eyes and an easy smile. A young redhead who trusted and yearned. Paloma reached out and, just like in her vision, swiped Deryn’s pink fringe out of her eyes, rising on tiptoes and kissing her forehead.
