by Susie Gayle
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.” She smirks again. “See you around.”
I walk briskly back to my car and start the engine.
“Well?” Sammy asks.
“Spill it, Sullivan,” Karen insists.
“Just wait a second.” I pull out of the lot in a hurry. As I do, Beverly Quigley waves to us like we’re old friends.
“Who’s that?” Sarah asks.
“That is our intrepid reporter friend, Quigley.” I tell them about what Beatrice told me, and then about the reporter asking too many questions.
“Oh, no.” In my rearview I see Sammy pinch the bridge of his nose.
“So I was right,” Karen says simply. “Savage did her in so that he could squeal on us and make himself look like the victim. But he got sloppy and now he’s in jail. Which means there’s absolutely nothing holding him back from spilling everything.”
“And soon we’ll all be there with him,” Sammy says glumly.
Karen snorts. “Speak for yourself, barber. I’ll play dumb. There’s nothing tying me to this.”
“Is that so?” Sammy challenges. “You’d let your friends go down and save yourself? Yeah, sure seems like you’ve changed an awful lot.”
“Hey!” Sarah snaps. She twists in her seat and points a finger at both of them like a scolding mother. “This is not the time for us to start turning on each other, okay? We’re supposed to be in this together.” She turns to me. “Where do we go from here, Will?”
“You and I are going back to the pet shop,” I tell her. “Sammy, Karen—you two are going back to work. For now, we go about business as usual. The only way we’ll know if Savage spilled anything is… well, if the cops come for us. And if they do, no one says anything. Ask for a lawyer and stay silent.” I pause for a moment, considering how everything I just said makes me sound like a criminal. “Sarah’s right. Now’s not the time for us to fall apart. We’re only as strong as the weakest link. The moment we stop trusting each other is the moment we all go down. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Sammy says.
“Yeah, sure,” Karen mutters.
“Good. Thank you.”
In the passenger seat beside me, Sarah laughs a little.
“What could possibly be funny right now?” I ask her.
“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking how priceless the look on my mother’s face would be if she watched me get arrested.”
CHAPTER 9
* * *
We drive most of the way back to the pet shop in relative silence. As I pull into my parking space, Sarah’s phone chimes. We both wince, expecting it to be Melinda.
“Huh,” Sarah says. “I just got an email that says Ezekiel Birnbaum is calling an emergency council meeting tonight.”
“Who sent you that?” I ask.
“The town did. I’m on their mailing list. You know, Will, as a small business owner, you really should—”
“Be more involved, yeah. I know.”
“Makes sense,” Sammy interjects from the back seat. “With Stein gone and Savage in custody, he’s the only councilperson left. He’ll need to assure people that things around here will be okay.”
“Oh… you’re right,” Sarah says. “He’s the only one left on the council, so he’ll have to call for a snap election for at least two more temporary members until the November election.” She turns to me. “We should go.”
“Sarah, you know how much I love council meetings,” I tell her, “but there are more important things going on right now.”
“No, she’s right,” Karen agrees. “We should all go. Don’t you want to see what they say about Savage and Stein?”
“I guess so,” I agree reluctantly. Those meetings are so boring. (And by “meetings” I mean the single one that I’ve ever gone to.)
“Or,” Sarah tells me, “you could entertain my mother this evening.”
“Alright, alright. I said I’ll go. Jeez.”
The four of us get out of my car and part ways. Karen heads back to her car, Sammy walks down to his barber shop, and Sarah and I head inside. It feels odd, just leaving each other so casually, when it’s painfully apparent that it could very well be the last time in a while we see each other, if Tom Savage decides to betray us.
I unlock the front door to the Pet Shop Stop and let Sarah in first. Denny sits cross-legged on the floor, petting Rowdy’s belly with one hand and stroking Basket’s head with the other. For the first time since I’ve met him, the kid is smiling—though I haven’t at all forgotten his odd disappearance downtown.
Melinda leans against the counter with her arms folded. As we enter, I hear her telling Denny, “You’d better wash your hands before you touch anything, young man.” She turns to us as we come in and flashes the fakest smile I’ve ever seen. “Oh, look who it is! My daughter, who I haven’t seen in nearly two years. Are we actually going to spend any time at all together, or are you going to keep avoiding me?”
Sarah holds up her left hand. “Mom, please, it’s been a very rough day so far, and—”
Melinda’s eyes widen and her smile disappears. “What is that?” she asks suddenly.
Sarah looks at me, confused. “What is what?”
Her mother marches over to her and grabs her left hand, nearly pulling Sarah off balance. “That!” She points to the ring on Sarah’s hand.
“Oh,” Sarah smiles a little. “It’s nothing.” Then she turns to me and says quickly, “I mean, it’s not nothing, it’s just—”
“It’s a ring! On your ring finger! On your left hand!” Melinda shakes her head in dismay. “I cannot believe you wouldn’t tell your own mother—”
“No, Mom, it’s not like that,” Sarah insists. “It’s not that kind of ring. It’s a promise ring.”
Just a couple weeks ago, while we were on vacation on a North Carolina beach, I gave Sarah a little silver ring with a sapphire in it. She’s right; it was not that ring. I’ve been married once before, and even though Karen and I are now friends, there was a solid four years after our marriage ended that I was convinced she was the devil—so I’m not in any hurry to rush into anything. So I gave Sarah the promise ring to show her that I’m ready to take our relationship to a new level… just at a slower-than-usual pace.
“A promise ring?” Melinda laughs. She actually laughs out loud. Then she turns to me and asks, “What is that, William? Like an IOU?”
“Okay, that’s about enough out of you,” I say loudly. Something in me just snaps, and I’m pretty sure it’s the connection between my brain and throat, because the words just start streaming out of my mouth before checking in to make sure they’re good to go first. “You have only been here three hours, and you have done nothing but complain and make snide remarks!”
Sarah turns to me, her eyes wide in surprise. Dennis looks up at me, too, shocked—but neither of them is nearly as surprised as Melinda, who shrinks back as I continue my tirade.
“You’ve insulted my town, my shop, and my dog. You’ve belittled both of your children, who are adults, in case you didn’t notice. Nothing seems to make you happy. Do you have any idea how hard your daughter worked to prepare for this? How much she stressed and fretted over you coming to visit? I thought she was exaggerating, but boy, was I wrong! No wonder she hasn’t seen you in two years! You’re just a… a… miserable person!”
For a long, long time—about a year, I think, or at least it feels like it—it’s completely quiet in the Pet Shop Stop. All three of them stare at me as if I’ve lost my mind, but I stand my ground, staring Melinda down and, admittedly, breathing a little hard from my crazy rant.
At long last, she clears her throat and stands straight, her head held high. “Sarah,” she says quietly, “I know it’s still a little early, but I’d like to go to the hotel now, please.”
“Sure. Yeah,” Sarah says, stunned.
“Come on, Denny.”
Dennis doesn’t move from his place on the floor. Melinda turns to him, an eyebrow arched.
“I don’t want to go,” he tells her, staring at the floor. “I want to stay here at the pet shop, with Sarah.” The kid looks right at me. “And Will.”
Melinda scoffs. “Fine. My own children, turned against me…”
“Mom, it’s not like that.” Dennis rolls his eyes.
“No, it’s fine. I see now. Come, Sarah.”
Sarah walks past me without looking up and leads her mother out the door. As soon as they’re gone, my shoulders slump and I breathe a long sigh.
“Dude,” Dennis says, getting to his feet. “That was… awesome. I’ve never seen anyone talk to my mom that way.”
“Yeah? Well, I think I might have just made things a whole lot worse, Dennis.”
“Oh, definitely. Sarah’s going to really hear it now.” He smirks a little. “But, I bet it felt good.”
I can’t help but smirk a little, too. “It felt really good.”
CHAPTER 10
* * *
Two hours go by. Every time the door to the pet shop opens and a customer walks in, I expect it to be Sarah, returning from taking her mother to the hotel—or Patty Mayhew, coming to arrest me for knowing about the blackmail scheme and not reporting it.
But neither come.
Dennis, meanwhile, is like a whole different person without his henpecking, overbearing mother around. He smiles and talks and looks me in the eye, and he even helps a customer or two find something they’re looking for. It’s such a difference that I’m almost ashamed that I suspected he could have snuck away earlier in the day to steal a car and hit a woman in the street.
Almost.
“So, Dennis,” I ask casually after ringing up a customer, “what do you think of Seaview Rock?”
“It’s nice,” he tells me. “Real nice. Better than stuffy Scarborough, where everyone walks around like they’ve got a stick up their… you know. But this place? Looks like it belongs on a postcard.”
“Yeah, I say the same thing.” I chuckle a little. “And what about the comic book store? What’d you think of that?”
The kid’s not stupid. He picks up right away on my line of questioning. His smile evaporates. “It’s alright. Kind of small.”
“Yeah, it is small,” I agree. “Too small not to notice someone. We checked it, and you weren’t there. And your mom, she just accepted what you said as if it were the truth. So where’d you really go?” I hold my hands up in a half-shrug. “No judgment.”
He sighs. “Alright. You got me. I peeked into the comic book shop, but that’s not where I went. Look, Will, you seem like a really nice guy, and I’m glad to see Sarah happy. But we just met, you know? And… a guy like me, maybe it could mean trouble. I don’t want that.”
I nod slowly. Despite almost fourteen years between us, my basic translation of his statement is, “Sorry, dude, I can’t trust you.”
“Okay, Dennis,” I tell him. “You don’t have to tell me. But you should know that there are people in this town that might care an awful lot… about where you went.”
This time he nods slowly. “I get you.”
The door opens yet again, and I turn—both hoping and dreading at the same time—and this time, it really is Sarah. She drags her feet like she just ran a marathon.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly.
“Hey,” she says back, standing just inside the entrance.
Dennis clears his throat. “I’m, uh, going to go for a quick walk. Like ten minutes?” He strides briskly out the door.
As soon as he’s gone, I launch into my apology. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that. I feel like a colossal—”
“No, don’t apologize. You weren’t wrong.”
“Wait, what?” I ask, dumbfounded.
She looks up, her gaze meeting mine. “You weren’t wrong about any of it. You said all the things I’ve wished I could say to her. The thing is, there’s something about my mom that you should know, that I should’ve told you before she ever came. She’s… sensitive.”
“Funny,” I say, “she said the same thing about Dennis.”
“I know. She thinks that he’s like her, but he’s not. He tries so hard to be the person she wants him to be when she’s around, because he’s all she has left.” She smirks a little. “I’m guessing he talked your ear off while I was gone?”
“Yeah, kind of.”
She shakes her head. “My mom is critical, and passive-aggressive, and frustrating… but she’s still my mom, and I know how she is. I mean, I just spent the last couple of hours trying to convince her that you don’t hate her.”
“She… actually cares what I think?” I ask incredulously. Now I feel like even more of a jerk than I did before—especially because while I wouldn’t use the word “hate,” I do strongly dislike the woman, sensitive or not.
“Yeah,” Sarah says, “she does. The way she is, it’s like her defense mechanism or something. It’s her nature to lash out first, because she assumes that everyone is going to do the same to her.”
“Well, that’s a pretty crappy outlook on life.”
“I know.” Sarah holds both her hands out, and instead of taking mine, she grabs both my wrists. “In other news, I can’t help but notice that neither of us is handcuffed.”
“Yeah. It’s weird, right?”
“Very weird. It can only mean that Savage hasn’t talked… yet.”
“I have an idea about that,” I tell her. “Patty Mayhew usually goes to the town council meetings, right?”
“Almost always, yeah.”
“Chances are good she’ll be there tonight. Which means that I might get to talk to Tom Savage.”
Sarah raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a plan?”
“I have… the semblance of a plan. The makings of a plan. Like, if a plan was a chicken, I have an egg of a plan…”
“I get it, Will.” She smiles. “You don’t have a plan.”
I shrug. “I was going to wing it.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Is that another chicken joke?”
“…It is now.”
CHAPTER 11
* * *
I’ve only ever been to one other town council meeting before, and at the time I thought it was a packed house. Shows what I know.
Every one of the three dozen or so metal folding chairs that have been set up for the meeting are filled by the time Sarah and I arrive. People hug the walls, standing shoulder to shoulder with other citizens. The assembly room of the Seaview Rock town hall is, to say the least, crowded.
Patty Mayhew helps usher people in and directs them where to stand. Sarah and I are guided to the rear wall, with Dennis in tow. Sarah offered him the chance to hang out at her apartment, but he insisted on coming with us—and even though his reasoning was that he just wanted to spend time with us, I can’t help but think it’s a little odd for someone to want to go to a town council meeting at all, let alone in a place he doesn’t live.
I scan the room and spot Sammy leaning against the wall to the left, his arms folded over his chest and his gaze stoic. He sees me and nods once. Karen must have gotten here early, since she occupies a chair in one of the rows in front of us. I also notice, with some dismay, that Beverly Quigley is front and center, her brunette bun unmistakable, a pen already poised to her notepad.
“Seems like everyone in town is here,” I murmur to Sarah.
“Or wants to be,” she says, gesturing toward the entrance, where Patty is turning people away because the building is at capacity.
“I’m sorry, folks,” I hear her say over the din of hushed conversations. “We can’t allow anyone else in or we’ll be in violation of the fire code. You’re welcome to stand just outside.”
The dais at the front of the assembly hall accommodates five, but at the moment there is only one man seated at the long bench facing the congregation. I me
t Ezekiel Birnbaum for the first time just last month, when another councilman, Mario Estes, perished in a fire at Birnbaum’s museum. He’s not exactly the most likeable of guys; he’s brusque and somewhat arrogant, wealthy and good-looking for his age. He drives around town in a silver convertible (yeah, in Maine, year-round) and frankly, has the capacity to come off as kind of a jerk.
But on the other hand, he’s proven that he really does care about this town and its people. He’s always been an opponent of Savage and Stein’s endeavors, and confided in me once before that he suspected something was fishy within the council.
He also looks really tired.
After a few minutes, Birnbaum calls the meeting to order and silence falls over the hall. He rises and leads us in the Pledge of Allegiance, followed by a moment of silence for Rachel Stein. He shuffles some papers in front of him and starts reading the minutes of the previous meeting, but after only a few seconds he trails off.
With all of us watching, practically half of Seaview Rock it seems, Birnbaum shakes his head and scoffs. He looks up at us and scans the room.
“What am I doing?” he says aloud. Then he stands. “Look, people, it’s just me up here, and in light of recent events, I’m going to skip the formalities, okay? We’re going to do things a little more casually tonight.”
He paces behind the five high-backed chairs at the front of the room. “Let’s look at some facts. A year ago, there were five people up here—as there should be. Two of them are now deceased, may they rest in peace. One is incarcerated. Another is in police custody.
“Recently—just yesterday, in fact—allegations were made public that two of those council people were involved in an affair.” He puts his hands out to his sides in a broad shrug. “Now, I’m not here to speculate on that. But I will say that I’ve long suspected corruption among us. And if those allegations are true, it would go a long way in explaining the actions of this council in the past several months. But,” he holds up a finger to punctuate his point, “it wouldn’t go the whole way.”