“I didn’t just watch the scene unfolding, Tanner. I listened. Something I’ve tried to teach you how to do for years. Something I thought you understood. Regardless, that’s what I did. I listened. Before Goldie left and after. Gathering as much information as I could before I created an opinion on it.”
“An opinion?” I roared, raising my voice to my brother for the first time in my life. “They accused Rhea of burning down Miller’s warehouse and flooding the bakery, and then driving a truck into the ice rink! All so she could swoop in and makeherself a hero out of it! They don’t have a fucking clue who Rhea is; they don’t understand how much she hates this attention! She’s the most honorable person I’ve ever met, Lucas. She wouldn’t do those things!”
“I know that!” He countered, stepping to me, toe to toe. “I know you wouldn’t have found yourself drawn to someone like that, but the world won’t. They won’t take your word for it, Tanner. They won’t take Goldie’s word for it either. Your past and your reputation mean nothing when faced with gossip and speculation. You have to present facts.”
“I did!” I snapped. “I told everyone what the investors were doing! I stood up there, with Goldie and Rhea at my side, and we told everyone there was something deeper and darker going on in our town! We warned them! Long before the rink! We told them about the paper trail of investments and bids, permits and paperwork! We told them!”
“Now show them!” He replied firmly, pulling an envelope out of his jacket pocket.
I eyed the paper, confused by what he meant, as my chest puffed up and down. Then took it.
“I didn’t come right over here because I started digging into stuff myself. I called my contacts and started looking into it from a different angle.”
“What angle?” I asked, opening the envelope and pulling out a stack of papers.
“The one not held back by law and policy.” He said, and I looked away from the corporate filings in my hand to my brother’s face.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that with classic boat restoration comes money. People don’t spend money to restore old, broken-down things unless they have more money than they know what to do with.People like that have connections outside of what a police officer or a firefighter does.”
“Illegal connections?” I asked, doubting my brother would willingly do anything illegal. But would the people he worked with?
“Expensive connections.” He countered, and I hated how that answer didn’t actually give me anything. “Within a two-hundred-mile radius, there have been two other towns that have had similar situations happen to them, like Cedar Bluff.”
“What do you mean, similar?”
He grabbed the paperwork, sifted through it, and pulled out two newspaper articles. Both headlining towns plagued with “accidental” fires and accidents that couldn’t be explained. But it led to the total change in the landscape of their town’s blueprint.
I scanned the articles, both written by the same reporter—Samantha Pete. That name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. The articles listed the same sequence of events, though. Top offers from outside investors met with refusals from business owners, followed by property damage and then finished out with zoning changes. Entire towns wiped off the map for new developments and fresh faces.
“Jesus Christ.” I muttered, flipping through the horror stories of what the people in those towns went through. “Generational loss.”
“This wasn’t random.” Lucas said, following my thoughts. “Cedar Bluff wasn’t random, the incidents weren’t random, and Rhea isn’t the epicenter to it.”
“But how do we prove that?”
“Because I know who is.”
My blood ran cold as I looked him in the eye again, “Who?”
“Keep reading.” He handed me another sheet of paper; this time it was a LinkedIn profile. “Celeste Ward.” Martinez’s girlfriend, who gave off serious ick vibes every time she wasaround. I read through her profile, listing her employment and schooling.
“Strategic Redevelopment Consultant.” Lucas said, mentioning her most recent title. “Look at her previous locations.”
“Son of a bitch.” I cursed, reading the names of the towns listed in the news article. “She’s behind it.”
“She’s a pawn in it, but she doesn’t run the operation.” Lucas clarified. “She comes in and starts the rumors, starts the gossip, fans the flames until there’s so much panic and doubt in everyone’s minds that they all fold and give in on themselves.”
“And she what?” I snapped, “Stands by and watches the towns crumble to ash before leaving on her way to the next?”
“Pretty much.” He sighed, and I could see the fatigue on his face. “I’m sure she’s paid greatly for it, too.”
“Fuck.” I flipped through the rest of the paperwork he had. There were more articles written on the small-town development pushes and mysterious incidents, leaving locals with no choice but to cash out and move on. In one town, the fire investigator called arson on one event, and a week later he was relieved of his duties. Fired. No pension. No salary. No severance.
Just eliminated.
And then, on the last packet of paper was the most important proof of all.
