CHAPTER FOUR

Ellie walked to the center of the stage, hand outstretched. She met Joe Doyle’s wolfish grin with a firm grip and a broad, fake smile.

“You bastard,” Ellie said through gritted teeth.

“Welcome to the big leagues, Elliot.” They held each other’s hands and smiled while the newspaper photographer took their picture. As soon as she gave them the all-done thumbs up, Ellie dropped Doyle’s hand, but the smile remained for the benefit of the lingering audience.

“Was that necessary?”

“No. But, it was fun,” Doyle said.

“You lost as many votes as you gained by dredging up my past. It made you look small, Joe. Worse, you looked desperate.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“Of course you don’t. You were too busy being pleased with yourself to watch the audience.” Doyle’s smile flickered. Ellie tilted her head and studied her late father’s best friend. “Admit it, Joe. You’re worried.”

Doyle laughed and waved to someone over Ellie’s shoulder. “How do you figure?” he said, scanning the audience as though her reply was so insignificant it didn’t require his full attention.

“If you weren’t worried, you would have never called me a Democrat.” Ellie clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Joe. I’ll be gracious in victory.”

Ellie turned and walked off the stage, past Michelle Ryan, whose condescending grin was a mirror image of her father’s, and Chris Ryan, who followed behind Michelle slowly, his head bent in concentration over his iPhone.

Ellie found the gap in the musty stage curtain and edged through it to hide in the darkest part of backstage. Eyes closed, she leaned her forehead against the cold, cinder-block wall and tried to breathe through her racing heart. Hoping for proof of a fever and justification for the sick feeling she’d had all day, she pressed her hands against her cheeks. She was disappointed. She wasn’t sick. She was stupid. Maybe a little bit pathetic. Okay. Both.

The bravado she showed with Doyle was bullshit, and he knew it as well as she did. But, if nothing else came of this quixotic campaign, at least Ellie finally got to call Joe Doyle a bastard to his face, something she’d wanted to do for years. It was cold comfort when what she really wanted to do was to crush him at the polls, but she would take the small victory. She knew better than anyone a series of small, seemingly insignificant victories could lead to a coup. One had to be patient.

“Hey. What are you doing back here?”

Kelly Kendrick stepped out of the darkness, holding Ellie’s notepad, a worried expression on her face.

Ellie smiled. “Reliving old memories.”

“Do you feel okay?” Kelly asked. She put her hand on Ellie’s forehead. “There were times you looked like you were going to puke out there.”

“Was it that obvious?”

Kelly shrugged. “Probably just to me.”

Ellie appreciated her friend lying to make her feel better. If Ellie were a better friend, she would tell Kelly what made her want to vomit wasn’t the debate or even Joe Doyle’s character assassination, but the sight of Jack McBride’s silhouette in the sound room window and his wife walking out of the auditorium to meet him.

“I think I might be coming down with something,” Ellie said. “I’ve felt bad all day.”

Kelly nodded to the EXIT sign glowing from the shadows. “Want to sneak out back?”

“More than anything. But, I can’t.”

Kelly nodded and handed Ellie the legal pad. “You did good. Doyle looked like an asshole for bringing all that stuff up.”

“He is an asshole.”

“You don’t need to be a city councilwoman to make a difference in this town. You know it and I know it.” Kelly held out her arms and waved her hands. “Come here.”

Ellie let her oldest friend hug her. Kelly squeezed and patted her on the back, like a mother would. “Everyone in this town loves and respects you. They tolerate Doyle.”

Ellie squeezed Kelly and released her before the urge to cry overcame her. “Thanks. Let’s go glad-hand the masses.”

Arm in arm, they walked onto the stage and were met by Eddie McBride. His eyes lit up when he saw the two friends. “What were you two ladies doing back there? Or should I ask?”

“God, men are so predictable.” Kelly released Ellie’s arm and walked on.

Eddie and Ellie watched her go. “Why does she hate me?”

They walked across the stage, down the stairs, and up the aisle. “She doesn’t hate you. She hates your twin brother.”

“Why?”

“Mike Freeman.”

“And, I’m guilty by association.”

Ellie shrugged.

“Does she know about you and Jack?” Eddie asked in a low whisper. Eddie opened the auditorium doors to a low roar of conversation amplified by the cinder block walls and tile floor. Ellie’s eyes were drawn to Jack like a magnet. He stood with Julie and the Doyle entourage. Julie and Michelle looked over in her direction. Somehow she knew they were talking about her.

Ellie turned so she was facing away from Jack. “No.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “I thought you two were best friends.”

“We are.”

She didn’t feel like explaining why she didn’t tell Kelly about her brief affair with Jack McBride, mostly because she couldn’t explain it. At first, it was a matter of discretion. Jack was married, and Ellie didn’t want another scandal. When Julie returned before Jack could file for divorce, Ellie and Jack decided the best thing to do was to break it off, at least until after the holidays, for Ethan’s sake. It seemed pointless to tell Kelly after the fact. As time went on, the opportunity to tell Kelly faded until it was too late. Now the first reaction from her lifelong friend wouldn’t be worry over how Ellie was handling the separation, but anger at not being told earlier.

Thank God, people came up to Ellie and congratulated her on a job well done, saving her from a more detailed answer. Eddie stood back, hands in his pockets (like his brother), smiled, and greeted people when necessary, acting more like a bodyguard than anything. When Matt Doyle walked up and shook Eddie’s hand while his wife, Amy, hugged Ellie, a shiver ran down her spine at the coupleness of the scene. It wasn’t helped by the fact Matt and Amy held hands throughout the greetings. Ellie shifted away from Eddie in case he got any ideas.

“Great job, Ellie,” Matt said. He released his wife’s hand and casually draped his arm across her shoulders. “I think you changed a few people’s minds.”

“We’ll see.”

When Ellie decided to run for city council, Matt and Amy had contacted her immediately and thrown their support behind her. On the one hand, it wasn’t a surprise. Since Matt and Amy moved to town the year before, they’d been heavily involved in the Stillwater Historical Society with Ellie, and any campaign that focused on preservation and attracting young families to Stillwater would get their support. On the other hand, Matt was Joe Doyle’s youngest child, the favorite according to many, and his defection had caused some strife in his family. His support of Ellie hadn’t wavered, but when it came time to pull the lever, Ellie wouldn’t be surprised if Matt voted for his father.

“Why didn’t you mention the hotel?” Amy asked. She leaned forward and whispered, “I think the news would easily shave a few old-timers from Joe’s supporters.”

Of all Ellie’s downtown property, the Henry Hotel was the biggest thorn in her side. It had been abandoned for twenty years since the management company contracted to run it went out of business. No other company had been willing to step in and manage an out-of-date hotel with low occupancy rates. Most people in town thought Ellie should have reopened the Henry instead of opening a bookstore. Ellie knew she needed to draw businesses into town before she could justify investing the time and money into a fifteen-room historic hotel with lead paint and mold. As luck would have it, a friend of Ellie’s in Dallas was in historic renovations and had jumped at the chance to see the Henry when she mentioned it.

“I don’t want to mention it until it’s a done deal,” Ellie said. “Plus, I don’t want the opposition to find out and try to sabotage us.”

“Good point,” Matt said.

“Curtis has a chef interested in opening a small restaurant. An organic restaurant,” Ellie said. “Your name might have come up.”

Matt’s eyes lit up. “No kidding?”

“He and the chef are coming on Tuesday to see the property. I know it’s election day, but it’s the only day that worked.”

“What time?”

“They’ll be at my bookstore at ten.”

“I’ll be there,” Matt said. He and Amy shared an excited smile.

“We still on for tomorrow morning?” Ellie asked Amy.

Amy inhaled in fake apprehension. “I guess. Yes. Yes, we are. Four miles?”

“Yep,” Ellie said. “You can do it.”

“Of course she can,” Eddie said, winking at Amy. She blushed and glanced at her husband.

Matt playfully punched Eddie in the arm. “Stop flirting with my wife.”

Six weeks earlier, when Ellie’s life imploded like a dying star, she had jumped at Amy’s shy request to run together. Amy wanted to lose weight, and Ellie needed to get out of her head for an hour and focus on someone else. Amy was a bit of a chatterbox and a well-placed question would send her off to the races. Ellie thought for sure Amy would run out of conversation eventually, but so far she hadn’t. Ellie, a solidarity runner for years, was surprised at how much she enjoyed running with Amy.

Julie McBride pushed into the small group, a bright smile on her perfectly symmetrical face. “Great job, Ellie.”

Julie looked like the quintessential John Hughes movie villainess. The girl everyone hated but was too afraid of to confront. Ellie stared down at the petite woman and guessed she could pick up Julie with one arm and hurl her across the foyer with ease. Ellie inched away from Jack’s wife before she acted on the urge and forced herself to be polite.

“Thanks, Julie. Do you know Matt and Amy Doyle?”

“No.”

Ellie made the introductions. She stepped back while they made small talk and was plotting her escape when Julie said, “Miner told me and Jack about your basketball scandal.”

Matt and Amy stilled. Ellie’s smile stiffened. Everyone in town knew the story, but no one talked about it. At least, not to her face. “Did he?”

“It took courage to go against your family like that.”

“You’d know all about that, I suppose.” The jibe was out of her mouth before Ellie could stop herself.

When Julie arrived in town a week after Jack and his son, Ethan, the town swallowed Julie’s story of being on a family-approved yearlong sabbatical like sweet tea on a hot summer day. Ellie was the only person in town who knew the truth.

Ellie hurried to cover her snide comment. “The difference being you have a supportive, forgiving family. My father never liked me much, so it didn’t take as much courage as you think.”

Julie’s eyes narrowed, her face a mask of forced good humor. “Did your father ever forgive you?”

“No. He hated me until the day he died. Better him hating me than losing my self-respect. I’ve never regretted it.”

“How admirable.” The word twisted from her mouth, more insult than compliment. “Jack and I barely know you, but we know you’d never do something like throw a game.”

You’d be shocked at how well your husband knows me.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, first impressions are usually bang on, aren’t they, Jules?” Eddie said.

Julie turned to Eddie and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t notice you there, Eddie.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Ellie said. She felt sorry abandoning Amy and Matt, but they were by far the best people to handle Julie McBride. They would chit-chat about inconsequential stuff and let Julie lead the conversation around to her favorite subject—herself.

Not paying attention to where she was going, only the urge to get away, she pretended to wave at someone across the room and ran straight into Jack. Her legal pad fell out of her hand and slid across the floor.

“Oh.”

Their eyes met and the leap of her heart triggered the memory of the first time she had been this close to him. How the bright lights from the football field threw his bruised face into shadow, how vulnerable he’d seemed, how she had been desperate to escape him and whatever it was she felt. Now, she wanted to bury her face in his neck, to nuzzle the soft spot behind his ear and breathe in his pine-tinged, woodsy cologne, which sent tingles up and down the inside of her left leg.

Christ Almighty. You’re in the middle of the high school. Get a grip.

Jack stepped back, picked up her legal pad, and read the message on the top page. His eyebrow quirked into an incredulous arch. He pulled the page off, folded it, and put it in his coat pocket. “I’ll trash this for you.”

Ellie stepped toward him and away from the group. She took the legal pad and was impressed by how strong and clear her voice sounded when she thanked him. Ellie stared at the cleft in his chin and felt herself leaning toward him, as if an inexorable force pulled them together. She crossed her arms and pretended Jack was any other citizen, talking to her about the election.

“Why do you smell like smoke?”

“Do you know the One-Armed Soldier’s home?”

“Out on 107? Yeah.”

“It burned to the ground.”

“I suppose it’s a blessing in disguise.”

Jack leaned forward and whispered. “Except for the two bodies inside.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “Any ideas?”

“Not very good ones. You know Paco Morales?”

“Name doesn’t ring a bell. Was he …?”

Jack shrugged. “Maybe. I thought you knew everyone in town,” he said with a wry smile.

“Almost.”

“I don’t need to tell you to keep this between us, do I?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.” His gaze subtly traveled down and up her figure. “I like your dress.”

Ellie looked down at the tan dress and touched her mother’s pearls. “I look like Barbara Bush.”

Jack chuckled. “I guarantee you, no man in that audience thought of Barbara Bush when they looked at you.”

She laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. “I guarantee you, you were the only one thinking naughty thoughts.”

“Good.”

She shook her head and glanced at the group behind them. Kelly had joined the group and eyed Ellie suspiciously, but thankfully Julie’s back was turned. Somehow she and Jack had managed to avoid the attention of any of the other citizens. Ellie didn’t know if she should be happy for the time with Jack or upset none of the residents cared enough about her campaign to talk to her. She decided to enjoy what conversation she could steal with Jack and try to prolong it as long as possible.

“How’s your secret project going?” Their last night together, Jack had told her about Pollard’s journals and sworn her to secrecy.

“I’m learning more about the residents of Stillwater than I ever wanted to know.”

“As long as you don’t use it against anyone.”

“You know me better than that.”

Her eyes slid down to his lips. “I do.” It came out as a hoarse whisper. She dropped her gaze to the yellow legal pad, cleared her throat, and forced herself to meet his eyes. “I need to tell you—”

The rapid clicks of a camera interrupted her. The newspaper photographer was taking a picture of the group behind Ellie. Relief washed through her. Wouldn’t that be the cherry on top of a disastrous night? A photo catching Ellie mooning at Jack McBride while his wife stood two feet away.

“What?” Jack said in a low, urgent voice. He touched her arm. “What do you need to tell me?”

She pulled her arm away but not before the familiar jolt of desire shot through her. She needed to get away from him. “Later. Thanks for coming,” Ellie said and moved away.