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TRACI PILED HER WORK into a neat stack at the corner of her desk and rubbed her eyes. Sometimes it was worth staying later than everyone else just for the chance to avoid awkward conversations. Besides, there was only one person she was interested in talking to right now. She turned off the lamps and stepped out of her office. The coffee hutch had been cleared away, but she scavenged through the drawers and found a protein bar with an expiration date of a month ago. She tried it. Still chewy. She filled her thermos with water from the cooler and waved goodnight to Jim at the door. Outside she could hear the sound of bluegrass blaring from the amphitheater behind the building. She cut through the Brunch and Brew and stepped out the back patio to the open bar.
The Folk and Bluegrass Festival concert had drawn record crowds and proceeds would help buy more pavers and cedar logs for the gazebo that Mr. Kinsey had designed for Bent Willow. She should join them but there was no energy left for it. Ray was standing with the owner of the promotion company enjoying a cocktail. She knew in her gut that he had something to do with what was happening to Randall. Or, was she just being suspicious of everyone now? She walked over and joined them.
“Looks like rain,” she said pointing to the dark clouds rolling across the valley and gathering overhead. Ray glanced at the gentleman who immediately excused himself and walked away.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ve made our goal.” He took a sip from his drink and smiled at her. “They can shut down this noise and send everybody home anytime as far as I’m concerned.”
Traci shook her head and sighed. She was too tired to fence words with Ray. “Speaking of going home ...” Suddenly the rain began pouring down on the crowd and everyone was running for cover. “I better get moving. I already missed the last shuttle. Now the bus is going to be packed.”
Ray followed her back to the sidewalk in front of Dewey Station.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“I don’t think ...”
“C’mon, I’ll make sure you get home safe. Trust me.”
“Well ... Okay, sure. One moment.” Traci walked over to the KMP squad car parked across the street. “Stop following me,” she said holding her purse overhead to shield herself from the rain.
“Miss Traci, I was assigned to keep an eye on things by Captain ... “
“You tell your captain that this is harassment and if he doesn't stop it, I'm filing a formal complaint with the ... whatever department handles harassment.” The officer rolled up the window and drove away. She waited until he made the turn onto War Memorial and was out of site, then met Ray at his Eiger Grey Range Rover. “Another car?” she thought as she stepped inside. She tried to fasten her seat belt but it was cinched too tight, so she let it dangle at her side. Ray punched her address into the GPS, gave her a sideways glance and pulled out of the parking lot toward Coal Hill Road.
“Why wouldn't you want Mayor Gundry back in office? He's a good man,” Traci asked as they passed the large house with re-election campaign signs filling the lawn.
“I only vote in my best interest. Nothing personal.”
“He's on the board of Friends of Magnolia Grove.”
“Exactly. I like Thompson. My money's on him. He's against that wasteful money-pit, Hazelton House, and can bring in big investors. There is a lot of room to grow in this region. Why should we be left behind?”
“Gundry is for a secure Keeferton. That’s important. He’s been instrumental in Randall's career.”
“Well, your boyfriend is betting on the wrong horse. Gundry will be out, and your captain probably the same not long afterwards. But, don't worry, we'll keep you on at K&S so the fall-out for you will be minimal.”
“You can't know that for sure. You're just trying to scare me.”
“Oh, trust me. There's big money backing Thompson. He'll be in place and everyone's interests secured. Don't waste your vote. Once Gundry is out of the way, we can put an end to that Hazelton House monstrosity and finally push out into the Wyman's acreage now that St. John is gone. His bunch will disperse with or without court orders. The marina and waterfront parcels near Bear Falls ... well, there's a lot of plans being tossed around. One thing for sure, it will be spectacular based on the investors flocking to the area. And, of course, I'm one of them.” He stopped at the spot in front of her house, looked directly into her eyes and gave her a smile that made her stomach clinch.
But Traci refused to give in to his intimidation tactics. She gripped the seat and took a breath. “Would you like to come in?”
“Are you sure?” He raised an eyebrow and looked her over.
“Yes,” She checked the time. Milo would be at work for a few more hours. “I’m sure.”
Ray pulled the car into the driveway close to the house. The rain was steady as they made their way inside. She turned on the living room lamp and faced him.
“I would offer you a drink or something, but I don’t ...”
“I understand,” he said, stepping into the room, “I don’t need one.”
“I wanted to ask you a favor. Someone in your position in the community has a certain amount of ... what's the word?” She backed away.
“Clout?”
“Yeah, I guess that's it. Clout.”
“Why should I help you?” He narrowed his eyes and positioned himself closer.
“It's not for me. It's for my friends.”
“But I don't like your friends, Tracinda.” He stroked his fingers across her shoulder and down her arm. He took her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it slowly with his eyes locked onto hers. She pulled her hand away.
“Okay. Then, I need you to do this because it's the right thing to do. It's very important.”
He ran his hands along her waist and behind her back, pulling her close to him. He placed his lips against her cheek. “I see. I'm intrigued but not convinced ... yet. I think you need to do me a favor first.” He pulled her tightly against his body.
She grabbed his thumbs and bent them away from her. “I'm not like that. I don't ...”
He whispered in her ear, “Don't you? Are you sure?” He let her go.
“No, I mean yes, I’m sure,” she said, and pushed herself away from him.
He straightened his tie and stroked his beard. His eyes narrowed as he refocused on her. “I have yet to bring myself to understand what you see in that policeman, or should I say ex-policeman?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, word behind closed doors is he's not going to survive the investigation. Once they start digging they won't stop until he gets locked up ... for something.” He waved his hand. “And, well . . . there's nothing you can do about that, is there?” He circled her, “Too bad. He had a promising career when he met you. Every Superman has his Kryptonite. Maybe you're his.”
His words pierced through the mental shield she had prepared for this conversation. She had questions and she needed his help. What was he saying? This was not what she expected. Was Ray just twisting her thoughts on purpose? Was Randall being set up? Why?
He came closer and lowered his voice. “Don’t be confused. Your boyfriend is not an important player in this situation. He's just collateral damage. A manifestation of poor decision making by Gundry. They both have to go.” She felt those words like a crushing weight in her heart. “And, I can say that it does make me a little bit happy knowing that he'll be out of the way soon. I've always thought we would make a good team, you and I.”
It was too late now. Her mind had slipped over that threshold and she couldn’t pull herself back. She couldn’t because she didn’t want to. She just wanted to let it run and take her wherever. It didn’t matter now. “So, this is about me. I'm the problem. It's my fault. I just wanted to save Bent Willow ...” Images of Earl Garrett popped up before her. “He said it cost him everything. Is the place cursed? No such thing, Traci. Had anything good happened in my life since I set foot inside Hazelton House? Nothing ... except Randall and look at what happened to him. What am I doing? She closed her eyes and whispered, “Every step better ...”
Someone was talking. It was Ray, from the office. She looked up and focused on his face. So handsome. And so close she could almost count his eyelashes. How perfect. What was he saying? He was talking to her about how Randall was going to leave Keeferton, which didn’t make any sense at all. Unless he was still mad at her for making him throw that big fat fish back in the water at Austin Cove. That could be it. She had really been a brat that day. Randall was leaving town, but he should at least ask if she wanted to come along. They could talk about it at dinner tonight. Maybe Josh could take Milo fishing and go catch that fish and they could have it for dinner. She could fry it up for everybody, but ... wait, no. Josh can’t go fishing tonight because he’s ... how many days has it been ...
“What?” she whispered, “Where’s everybody?”
“Forget about that ... all of it.” Ray put his finger under her chin and lifted her face to make eye contact with him. His fingers were so soft against her skin, tracing the outline of her jaw back and forth, then slowly along the outline of her ear, down the side of her neck and resting along the nape, stroking gently back and forth. “You know with a little direction ...” He kissed her cheek gently, “and correction, you could be a wealthy woman.”
“You think so?” she murmured. “Someone killed Josh,” she struggled with the dim recollection. “Randall?” She could smell the heavy scent of cinnamon and bourbon against her face.
“Yes ...” Ray was smiling at her. It made her feel nauseous.
“Milo ...” she whispered. He had told her something important but she had lost it somehow. “What was it?”
“You're right, not here. We don’t want that kid interrupting us. Besides, this place is a pit. I've got the perfect spot for us.”
Ray walked out the front door onto the porch ahead of her. The rain had stopped but the sky was still dark and threatening. Traci followed behind him, then stopped and looked around.
“Hold on,” she said, “I just remembered something.”
“Alright, but don’t keep me waiting.” He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand, “It will be a night to remember. Trust me.”
“You're right, it will be a night to remember,” Traci lifted the Mossberg from the closet. “It's the night when you call off the investigation against Randall, or the night that I exercise my rights to protect Casa de Tracinda and put a hole through you so big ... Or is it Maison d' Traci?
“What the. . . wait, hold on ... be careful with that thing ... “
“Who shot Josh? Tell me!”
“What? I don't know. How would I know? Why are you asking me?”
“Who was it? They were trying to kill Randall. Why?”
“Wait, what ... what are you saying? I don't know what you're talking about, I swear. Where'd you get that idea?”
“It was a setup and you know it. You can stop that investigation against Randall. Don't even try to deny it.”
“Now ... that's something I might be able to help with, but you've got to calm down and put that gun away so we can talk about it. Stop pointing that at me or ...”
“Or what? You'll call the police?” she whispered with a jittery smile. “Stop the investigation. Do it now.” She lifted the shotgun, “Now.”
“Hmmm, I don't think you're crazy enough to pull the trigger, but I can see how everything that's been going on is really affecting your ... ability to ... think clearly. I'll make the call on Monday morning to set things straight for your boyfriend. As a favor to you. You can thank me later.”
Traci stepped forward through the front door as Ray stumbled backward down the steps into the yard. Two streaks of lightening flashed across the sky.
“You know what follows lightening, Ray?”
He took an uneasy step backward.
“Thunder.” She aimed the shotgun and pulled the trigger. The blast took out the windows on both sides of the pristine Range Rover and set off the alarm. She dropped another shell in and waited while Ray frantically dialed his phone with his butt firmly planted in her flower beds.