All the years I spent learning how to control my reactions, and in less than ten minutes Reverend Carl Browne had me enraged.
“What the fuck were you thinking!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the large open space.
We sat in a church pew in the chapel, just him and me, though now I rose in fury, standing in the aisle. If I didn’t get this anger out of my system, I’d kill him, and that would be disastrous.
I simply couldn’t believe the pathetic reasons Carl gave for his decision to torch the Hendrickson place. It all boiled down to panic.
“You were scared,” I continued. “You freaked out. If you were anyone else, you’d already be dead.”
He bristled. “Remember who you’re talking to, little girl.”
“Just because you were my father’s closest friend doesn’t give you a free pass to be an idiot,” I said.
He reddened, his hair looking even whiter. Twelve years ago Carl might have been called distinguished; now he just looked old.
This day had exhausted me. I’d spent twelve hours checking and double-checking on every cog in my operation. Amazingly, everything was running perfectly smooth, except for the issue with the Hendricksons. But I had figured out how to handle that, and while it would be some time before I exacted my revenge on the family, I could wait.
Business took precedence over revenge.
“I have a plan,” I told Carl, “and for it to work, you need to call off your dogs. No more petty vandalism and definitely no more fires.”
“If the resort isn’t shut down by Sunday, we lose everything,” Carl said.
I stared. Damn, I wanted to kill him. Just for stating the obvious, as if I were some kind of imbecile.
“Thank you,” I said, looking down at him in the pew. “What would I do without you reminding me of my own business plan?”
He didn’t flinch, nor did he look scared as he stared up at me defiantly.
I slapped him hard. Not expecting it, he almost fell out of the pew. A red mark darkened his skin. A spot of blood welled on his lower lip.
“This is my town, Carl. Mine. Just because I left doesn’t mean I handed it over to you. Remember, Preacher, I know what you’ve done, so don’t think one second about going against me.”
If my first plan didn’t work, I had another. But I wasn’t about to strategize with Carl. He’d pissed me off. Instead I said, “The resort will be shut down before Sunday because the Hendricksons want to close it, or are forced to, but it will be done without the ridiculous shit you’re pulling.”
“You’ve been gone too long.”
“That sounds like a threat, Carl.”
He hesitated. Good. Maybe he had finally realized I was dead serious. Maybe he saw in my eyes that I wanted to gut him.
My cell phone vibrated. It was my stupid brother.
“What?”
“We have a problem,” he said with deep seriousness.
“Oh for shitsake, don’t be so melodramatic! Spill it.”
“A woman’s body was found in the mine.”
I closed my eyes. I felt like I was on a roller coaster. “Don’t tell me it was the bitch.”
“I don’t see who else it could be.”
Was the universe conspiring against me? First Carl panics, and now my idiot brother calls me without even first verifying all the facts.
“Find out if it’s her, then bring me the person responsible for fucking up a simple body dump!”
I threw the cell phone across the church. It hit the large wooden cross behind the altar and fell to the floor, shattering in three pieces. “God-fucking-dammit!”
Carl rose. “Watch your mouth in God’s house!”
I really wanted to kill this fool. First for being stupid, now for daring to correct me. Instead I laughed. “That’s rich, Carl. You’ve broken more of the Ten Commandments than I have.” Smirking, I walked to the back of the church. Without turning around, I said, “Find out everything about the body in the mine. Who found her, if they know who she is, anything else the cops might know. Before sunrise. My patience has left the building.”
Jimmy Benson sat on a bar stool at the Lock amp; Barrel, his draft halfway to his mouth.
I’m a dead man.
He drained the rest of his beer and put down the mug. It hit the counter with a thud. He froze, eyes on the mirror behind the bar, searching for evidence that someone, anyone, was watching him.
The Lock amp; Barrel was the only business in Spruce Lake open past six p.m., the only place to get dinner and a drink and talk. Even on a Wednesday night in a town of 386, the place was nearly half filled with two dozen patrons.
It was soon to be a town of 385, Jimmy thought. Because he was getting out of Spruce Lake tonight one way or the other-on foot or six feet under.
Was everyone looking at him, or was it his overactive imagination?
Reggie, the Lock amp; Barrel’s longtime bartender, gestured toward his empty mug. After his shift, Jimmy usually had three beers, but he’d had only one since he arrived twenty minutes ago. He hadn’t even finished his shift; he’d left sick. After he’d gotten the call about the arson, he knew his nephew was in way over his head. He actually felt sick. But anyone who was watching would only notice he was nervous.
He nodded at the barkeep. “Thanks.” He put a small handful of nuts in his mouth, being as casual as possible as he eavesdropped on Doc Griffin’s conversation with the waitress and two regulars. Not that he had to concentrate; Woody Griffin wasn’t keeping his voice down.
Someone had found her body. Jimmy had heard it on the scanner this afternoon. He wished Woody knew more, because Jimmy had to know how this happened. But then Woody switched topics and talked about the fire and vandalism at the Hendricksons’ place. About how no one wanted outsiders here. The others nodded in agreement.
Jimmy knew the truth. They all knew the truth, but wouldn’t say it aloud. Easier to act like rednecks than criminals.
Jimmy picked up his fresh beer and sipped, leaned back, and saw Gary Clarke in the mirror. Standing across the room, staring directly at him.
Jimmy looked away, but he still felt Gary’s eyes on the back of his head.
