Gleason noticed, of course. The older man was seated next to Olivia, and watched her watching them. “I go to sleep one night, and the next morning it seems like the world has shifted on its axis.”
“Welcome to my life,” Olivia said.
“So, you and Dillon . . .”
“Everybody’s asking me that.”
“Hardly a surprise. And?”
“We are friends for life.”
“Friends,” he repeated, his voice a soft, bearlike rumble. “Friends.”
“Exactly.” She decided now was a good time to change the subject. “Is there a particular reason why you’re here?”
“I’ve been on the town council for a while. They recently appointed me deputy mayor.” He offered a rare smile. “Everybody with more sense had already run for the hills.”
Bailey chose that moment to tap her fork on the side of her plate. “If it’s okay, I’d like to get started.” When she had everyone’s attention, she went on. “I’ve had two conversations with the governor’s chief of staff regarding their visit tomorrow. There’s good news and bad news. You need to help me decide which is which.”
The diner was less than half full. Patrons at other tables watched and listened. Claire stood by the side wall, close to where Arnaud leaned on the counter and observed through the central window. Olivia suspected Bailey had chosen the setting for the purpose of getting the word out. The mayor went on. “The last couple of disasters, the feds were heavily criticized for taking too long to write the checks. FEMA has been under severe pressure to accelerate their process. They have decided the state’s auditor will serve on point. Soon as he okays a budget request, FEMA will write the check. The feds will send in auditors to check our progress and spending. But Ransom Bates holds the key to getting what we need.”
“Bad news,” Gleason said.
“Terrible,” Porter agreed.
“The man is not our friend,” Emilia said.
“Point of order,” Charlie said. “It’s always a pleasure to see Lizzy—”
“Yuck. ”
“But why is your daughter here?”
“Elena is playing a very important role,” Bailey replied.
“Is she, now.”
“Absolutely. This is an official-unofficial meeting of the town council. Elena’s job is to keep notes and write it all up.”
“Funny,” Charlie said. “I don’t see a pad or pen.”
Elena tapped the side of her head. “Click. Recording.”
Dillon laughed out loud.
“Boyd Harrow, the governor’s top guy, is doing what he can to protect us,” Bailey went on. “The governor’s PR team wanted a photo op that shows him working on Christmas Eve, personally helping one of the afflicted towns in their hour of need. And so forth.”
“Smart,” Emilia said. “Bringing in the top dog, letting the auditor know his bosses are watching.”
Porter corrected, “Long as we give the governor and his PR folks what they want.”
“That’s our job in a nutshell,” Bailey agreed. “He and his team will show up here tomorrow afternoon. Our job is to give them a quick sweep of the worst-hit areas, the points that are in dire need of the feds’ help . . .” She stopped because Dillon stared at his plate, shaking his head. “What?”
He looked up. “Nothing.”
“Go ahead and say it.”
“I’m the guest here. I really shouldn’t—”
