Chance could already discern those folks, unlike him, who favored the development project, simply by observing their body language: slumping bodies with arms crossed and a ready-to-fight look in their eyes. He'd been in situations like this many times before, and he welcomed the challenge of bringing those individuals around to his way of thinking, although the longer he lived here, the more he realized the people of Rosswood, his adopted family, were a particularly stubborn lot.
To help ease the tension in the room, he relaxed into a smile. "Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming today. We'll try to keep this short. Nate Wheeler was invited to attend, but--"
The door creaked open and all heads swiveled toward the back of the church. Kat had entered. The doctor made room for her against the back wall. Chance acknowledged her with a nod, and she returned his nod with a slight smile.
"As I was saying," Chance continued, punctuating his words, "Nate Wheeler was invited to attend. That's why I scheduled the meeting so late, to give him time to get here, but I haven't heard back, so I'm assuming he isn't showing up."
Whispers were exchanged, along with a few groans and hisses. Then a young man in the back row shouted, "Brianna whaled on him so bad, he ain't never coming back."
A collective intake of breath followed. The woman sitting next to the young man who'd blurted out the tactless remark elbowed him in the ribs. Heads turned toward Kat, who raised a hand and shook her head as if to assure everyone what was said wasn't a problem. Even from a distance, Chance could see her face pale.
He pounded the lectern with his fist three times to draw attention away from Kat and raised his voice. "I say we proceed without Nate Wheeler. We've heard his side, how he wants to bring this expansive development to Rosswood. Now it's time to voice our opinions, so we can bring our concerns to the county commissioners."
"What's the point, Eliason," Tim Holmes argued. "This town will never agree on this thing."
Holmes's comment rankled Chance, but he stayed calm. "All opinions count, no matter what they are, and we need to hear from everyone before this development gets off the ground."
He cleared his throat. "As a review for those of you who weren't at the last meeting, Nate Wheeler and Associates have already purchased acreage off Randall Road and are in the planning stage of building a resort, which includes a one-hundred-room hotel and lodge, two eating establishments, and an eighteen-hole golf course. In order to accommodate this project, a massive amount of trees will have to be sacrificed, thus destroying natural wildlife habitats."
"How can they get away with that?" yelled a man from the left side of the room. "What about the environmental laws?"
"That's a big issue," Chance replied. "From what I understand, Wheeler is in the process of acquiring the necessary building permits. But considering the current political climate, leaning toward business, plus the desire to increase tourism in the state, I'd say he won't have a problem."
"They could drive out the deer," an older man grumbled. "Come hunting season, there'd not be a damn thing to hunt."
A low mumbling spread through the room.
"There's also the possibility that once they finish this project, they won't stop," Chance reminded them. "They'll want to build homes to go with their resort, and more people will flood into this area, people who don't have a healthy respect for the land."
"They'll take our water," spouted a bearded man close to Kat. "And pretty soon they'll need roads and such. Along with the land values, our taxes will go up."
Bertie stood and waited for the roar of disapproval to subside. "Have you ever thought you might be blowing this out of proportion? Let's think positive for a minute. Think of the business that size project could pull in and the money that comes along with it."
Lenny's wife, Clare, cranked her head in Bertie's direction. "Hey, Bertie, they'll have their own restaurants. You could go out of business yourself."
Bertie shook her head. "I don't think so. People have to eat. They'll trickle into town just for something different. It will increase my business."
"Phooey," hooted a woman's voice.
Bertie glared across the aisle at her cousin Wilma. "You got something to say?"
"Yeah, I got something to say." Wilma stretched tall. "That resort will have its own beauty salon, and that can't be good for my business."
"If you were any good," Bertie taunted, "you wouldn't have to worry about it."
Wilma and Bertie glowered at each other like two boxers ready to fight. Everyone else snickered.
"Ladies," Chance said, and they both sat down. "Let's not get personal. Would anyone else like to comment?"
Tim Holmes rose, and a man named Earl, standing against the wall along the side aisle, raised a fist to him. Everyone knew the bad blood between Tim and Earl, stemming from high school when Tim stole June from under Earl's nose, so no one in the room took offense when Earl's middle finger inched up. Tim clenched his own fist and eyeballed Earl.
"Tim," Chance said, "did you have something to say?"
Tim scowled at Earl one last time. "What I was going to say was, people have cars and cars break down. I could use the extra business. What about you, Hank?"
Hank glanced back at Tim and snarled, "What about me?"
"Your business would get a boost," Tim said. "People need to buy food and beer. And what about the souvenirs? You stand to make a real profit."
"I like things the way they are." Hank turned back around and crossed his arms, frowning.
"What about you, Lenny?" Tim said.
Lenny's face flushed the color of his hair. With his green shirt and khaki-colored pants, he looked like an upside down beet. "I've got enough mail to take care of. I'm overworked as it is." Clare pinched his arm, and he added, "I mean we're overworked." Chuckles erupted all around him, and his face contorted into misery.
Looking toward the back of the room, Chance noticed the doctor cozy up to Kat and whisper in her ear. "May I say something?" she said to the crowd, and everyone twisted around and stared.
Chance was relieved to direct the discussion again. "If you have something to contribute, please do, Ms. Summers."
"I know I'm not part of this community," she said, glancing at the inquisitive faces around her, "but I am a real estate agent, and I can give you my perspective. You see, I've had a lot of experience observing how communities like yours adjust to these types of projects. Most times there are the usual objections that you've all voiced here, but generally these are based on fear—fear of the unknown. Afterward, people adjust fine, and the influx of tourists and money generated from said development usually compensates for any negative consequences that come with it. And also, think about the increase in jobs. Your kids won't have to leave this community to find work."
The crowd faced forward and waited for Chance to make a comment, but a woman in the back shouted, "I agree with her. I don't want my boy to leave town."
A man said, "Yeah, and what about building the resort? We could make damn good money."
"That's a crock, Carl," Hank said. "That weasel Wheeler will bring in his own crew from outside, and as far as 'afterward' goes, how would you like working as a maid?"
Someone launched a wolf whistle. The room rocked with laughter.
"It's better than what I do now," shouted a young woman who worked for Bertie.
"Well, if you don't like it, Sue Ann--"
"Bertie, please," Chance said while pounding the lectern. When he glanced toward the back of the room, Kat had disappeared.
"What about the noise," someone yelled. "It just won't be the same."
Others chimed in, and the meeting continued for another half hour. Finally, Chance weighed in. "Listen, everyone. I've heard a lot of arguments today, pro and con, but no matter how you feel about it, can we at least agree there needs to be an in-depth study of the effects this proposed development will have on our community?"
Some people nodded, some didn't.
"To address our conc
erns over water and wildlife issues, I think we should demand that the county ask for an Environmental Impact Statement. Can we agree on that? Raise your hands."
Chance scanned the crowd as hands rose. His gaze fell to the middle of the room. "Bertie, can we agree this development needs more scrutiny?"
She nodded and reluctantly raised a hand.
"How about you, Tim?"
Tim shrugged. "Whatever."
"All right then." Chance opened his notebook and held up a piece of paper. "I've written up our concerns in this petition, which I will take to the county. I ask that you sign it before you leave here. Are there any questions?"
Sue Ann raised a hand. "If I sign this, does it mean I'm against Wheeler's idea?"
"Let me assure you," Chance replied, "all of you, this is not a vote against the development. It merely asks the county to force Wheeler to study the project more thoroughly before he proceeds. Are there any other questions?"
Everyone looked side to side at their neighbors, but no one spoke up.
Chance set a pen and the petition on a chair near the lectern. "Don't forget to sign before you leave. This meeting is adjourned." While people lined up and down the center aisle, he called the pastor over.
"Good meeting, Chance. A lot accomplished today," the pastor said.
Recalling Kat's unwelcome remarks, Chance thought otherwise. "I have an urgent errand to run, Pastor. Would you mind collecting the petition after everyone signs it? I'll pick it up later this week."
"Anything to help."
Chance wove past people in line, stopping now and then to shake hands and to listen to comments. Tim Holmes and his wife hadn't lined up like the others and left the church in front of Chance. To soothe his nerves, Chance let the cool air ripple over him, but nothing would ease the tension he felt.
The sheriff stood next to the cruiser with the door opened and waited for Chance to walk by. "Relatively calm in there. Not like the last time, but you're beating a dead horse. You'll never stop Wheeler."
"I would think you'd want him stopped, Sheriff. More people, more headaches for you, more ugly business thrown your way."
"I could use the business." He slid into the front seat and throttled the engine.
Tim Holmes's truck followed the cruiser out of the parking lot. Chance watched father and son drive away. Wheeler wasn't the only person he wished would leave the community.
Chance climbed into his pickup. Now to the real business at hand: a talk with Kat Summers.
CHAPTER 12
Kat was totally exhausted. The Valium she'd taken the night before had made her loopy, and all morning she'd roamed the house in a fog, but it was better than allowing her rational mind to ponder last night's shocking image of Brianna's ghost.
The best thing to do, she'd decided, was to perform physical tasks, work her muscles to the bone, or go for a jog. She opted for cleaning the house, one room at a time, as if by nightfall all this effort would sweep the images out of the house, out of her mind.
By afternoon the kitchen had been the only room scrubbed. After a refreshing shower she'd wandered outside to take in the fresh air. On her walk she noticed the cars at the church and remembered the town meeting from the flyer Chance had brought into the beauty salon. Curious, she'd gone inside.
She hadn't planned to say anything, but the doctor had voiced his view to her about the possibilities of new blood coming into this community, and she'd spoken up. The harsh and unforgiving look on Chance's face was enough to drive her from the church. The man had a side to him that gave her a chill.
She scraped the last of the beef stew into a pan and placed it on the stove. It looked and smelled like dog food, the gravy variety.
One look at the phone reminded her she'd forgotten to have it disconnected. Come Monday, she'd take care of it for sure. She toyed with the idea of placing the receiver in its cradle, but the thought of another idiot phone call persuaded her to leave the receiver dangling.
A pounding on the door rattled her already frayed nerves. She answered it tired, hungry, and in an irascible frame of mind. Chance stared back at her with the same nasty look she'd received at the church.
"What do you want?" she asked him curtly, but she'd already guessed why he was here.
"I have something to say to you, Ms. Summers."
"Ooh, Ms. Summers. Am I supposed to be scared?"
"Maybe."
His flippant tone aggravated her, and if he wanted a fight, she intended to give him one. "I'm not sure I should let you in with this cantankerous attitude of yours, but I'm curious." She moved aside, watching him set his hat on the end table. "So, you plan to stay a while."
Glaring, he grabbed the hat and stuck it on his head.
"Honestly." She rolled her eyes in disgust.
He marched to the phone and slammed the receiver in place. "Don't you ever hang it up?"
"Aren't we considerate."
"That's more than I can say for you."
"Would you like to explain that comment, along with your hostile behavior?"
He faced her with a fierce stare. "Next time you barge into a meeting where you don't belong, mind your own business."
"Are you referring to the contribution I made? If I remember right, you were happy to have an informed contribution."
"Informed, my ass. You don't know anything about this community."
She dug her fists into her hips. "I'm a real estate professional, Mr. Eliason, and everything I said in that meeting was the truth."
"Ooh, a real estate professional," he said, mocking her.
She felt all the energy in her body swarm to her head in a feverish flush. When she finally found her voice, all she could say was, "You don't know a damn thing."
"I know one thing," he said. "You real estate people are all alike. You and the developers would bulldoze the life out of a community for the almighty dollar."
The veins in Kat's head throbbed. "That's not fair."
"And another thing, Ms. Summers, you're nothing like your sister. She knew what was important and what wasn't. She hated the idea of the resort."
"Aha!" Kat walked up to him, aiming her index finger, and jabbed him in the chest. "This isn't about the development. This is about how you like your women."
"What?"
She kept jabbing, emphasizing every other word. "You want the women around you to follow along with your ideas and not have an opinion of their own. Is that why you couldn't stay married?"
One more jab, and he grabbed her by the wrist. "Don't drag my marriage into this conversation. You know nothing about it."
The phone rang. Kat's shoulders hunched with tension. Her head jerked toward the sound. Chance let go of her arm, but she wouldn't move.
"Aren't you going to answer it?"
She ignored him.
"What's the matter?" He stepped in the direction of the phone.
"No. Don't."
He disregarded her warning. After a few seconds on the line, he slammed down the receiver and looked at Kat, concerned. "Have you been getting strange calls while you've been here? Is that why you leave the phone off the hook?"
"Something like that."
Chance grabbed the receiver and let it fall. The warning signal stopped beeping just as the cord twisted and grew still. "I suggest you have it disconnected."
"I'm planning to."
He grasped her elbow to nudge her toward the sofa. "You better sit down. I forgot to tell you something about Brianna when you were at the ranch."
"Why? Is it that bad that I should sit? I prefer to stand."
"Fine." He let go of her arm. "After Brianna broke up with Tim Holmes, she started getting calls."
"What, like the man hung up when she answered?"
"That, and sometimes he would say things or just breathe into the phone. She could never figure out who it was because the voice was always disguised or muffled in some way."
Kat shivered at the thought that both she and Brianna were victim
s of these phone calls. It seemed too much of a coincidence.
"Are you all right?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Your hands are shaking." He wrapped his hands around hers. "What is it, Kat?"
"This is so weird, Chance, but shortly after Brianna died, I started getting those same kinds of calls at my home in Seattle."
"And now here. Do you have any idea who it might be? Can you think of anyone who knows both of you?"
"It's highly unlikely. We ran in different circles. But whoever it is probably thinks Brianna is still alive. Why else would he keep calling here?"
"Unless . . ."
"Unless, what?"
"What if he is the same man who's been calling you in Seattle and he does know Brianna is dead? If he's calling you here now, then he knows you're in town. I don't like the feel of this. I think you should stay at the ranch. I have a perfectly good guest room."
"That's impossible," she said. "I have work to do here. When I get home, if the jerk keeps calling me, I'll notify the police. It's probably just a stupid prank."
"That's the best case scenario, but I don't think this is a time to be stubborn."
"I really appreciate your concern, but this is just a silly coincidence. Nothing has ever come of it, and it never will. I'm fine here alone."
Chance ran the back of his hand over her cheek. "I think you're downplaying this too much."
"I'm not."
"I think you are," he said, "but I won't argue with you. You have my number in case you change your mind. I'll check on you tomorrow."
"That's not necessary."
"I'll come by tomorrow."
A part of her wished she'd taken him up on his offer, yet she still didn't trust herself to get that close to him. She'd always condemned Brianna for her involvement with married men, but the truth was Kat had her own demons. She had a weakness for men like Chance Eliason. For her he was trouble with a capital T. She hadn't been with a man in three years, and if she fell for him she was likely to fall hard.
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