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Another round of applause exploded.

“Yeah, right.” Joanna leaned into Rachel, speaking into her ear. “They’ll spend it here, but it won’t stay here.”

As if he’d heard her, Archer went on, “I know you’re wondering how much of that money will stay in your community and benefit you and your families. Let me start at the beginning, with the construction. We’ll need workers, a lot of workers, and we’ll hire as many of them locally as we possibly can.”

Wild applause, hoots, and yells bounced off the high ceiling. Smiling, Archer basked in the approval for a moment before raising his hand to signal for quiet. “It could take as long as two years to complete all components of the plan, and in a minute I’ll show you exactly what we want to build here.” He gestured at the cloth-covered exhibit on the table. “Once the resort is open, we’ll need people to staff it and maintain it. Housekeepers, porters, cooks, wait staff in the dining rooms, gardeners and other grounds maintenance personnel.”

Minimum wage jobs, Rachel noted, with no opportunity for advancement.

“We want to build a small airport,” Archer continued, “and that will create jobs, too.”

Not on our land, Rachel thought. She reminded herself that none of this would happen if Joanna stood firm. Yet Archer’s confidence that the project would materialize stirred a deep unease in her.

After pausing when more handclapping interrupted him, Archer added, “But you won’t have to work at the resort to profit from it. We’ll buy vegetables, fruit, meat, and dairy products from local farmers. We’ll serve your homemade jams and jellies in our dining room, and we’ll sell them by the jar in the gift shop. We’ll sell the work of local craftspeople in the gift shop—handmade quilts, knitted items made from locally grown wool, wood carvings. If you have something of value to offer, we’ll help you reach customers willing to pay premium prices for it.”

A change had come over the crowd. Quieter but more attentive, they seemed completely caught up in Archer’s sales pitch. He was good, Rachel had to admit. He was handsome, he had a charming smile, and he painted a nice picture. A lot of people in the room were buying it. But Rachel didn’t believe a word of it.

“He makes it sound like a feudal society,” she murmured to Joanna.

“Exactly. He wants the whole county to work for Packard. They’d all be catering to a bunch of rich people at that fancy resort.”

Archer grasped the hem of the green cloth draping the display. “What I’m going to show you is a model, made to scale, of the facilities we’ll build if we’re able to secure the land we need. If you’re too far back to see clearly, please remain in your seats for now, and you’ll have all the time you want to take a close look after the meeting.”

With a flourish, he whipped off the green cloth and let it drop in a heap of folds onto the floor, revealing an elaborate cluster of buildings, parking lots, and what appeared to be two bodies of water. A smattering of applause rose from the other side of the gym, but it died down in seconds as people craned their necks to see the model and waited for Archer to continue.

“We’ll have swimming pools here and here.” Archer pointed to the two blue patches behind the buildings. He reeled off a list of other components: tennis courts, a children’s playground, a ballroom for weddings and other special events, a spacious center for business conferences, a sports club with its own cafe, a spa, a bistro, a bar, and a full-size restaurant. “Adjacent to the sports club,” he added, “we’ll have stables for people who enjoy horseback riding, and an eighteen-hole professional level golf course. We might even start our own annual tournament eventually. That would put Mason County on the map and bring in a lot of visitors with money to spend. Not to mention creating additional jobs for county residents.”

He was hitting the jobs button every two minutes, and Rachel felt sure that was all some people heard.

Beside her, Joanna choked out her words. “That’s my property. He wants to put all that right smack in the middle of my farm. He even wants my
horses.

“Just remember that they can’t force you to—” Rachel broke off to hear what Archer was telling the crowd.

“We have signed letters of intent to sell from several property owners in the part of the county we feel is optimal for development. We can’t move ahead until we have all the land we need. We’re offering top dollar. We hope you can all see the unprecedented opportunity that’s right in front of you.” Archer turned his back on his supporters and directly addressed the anti-development crowd. “You can choose to move forward and grab this chance to bring new growth and prosperity to Mason County, or you can choose to let your community sink deeper into poverty, and watch all your young people leave home to find work. I hope you’ll choose to revitalize your county, and that you’ll persuade your neighbors to do the same.”

The pro-development crowd rose as one, clapping and cheering. Rachel knew how they felt. Packard offered a rural, high-unemployment county the holy grail of jobs, jobs, jobs. Of course they wanted it.

Joanna jumped to her feet.

Rachel grabbed her arm. “Don’t, Joanna, please. Just wait it out.”

Joanna shook off Rachel’s hand and started speaking over the applause. Rachel could barely hear her, so she was sure no one else could. Joanna raised her voice to a shout that stretched across the room. “You’re not getting my land. I’ve put my heart and soul into that business, and I won’t sell it so it can be turned into,” she flung an arm toward the model on the table, “into
that.”

“You ever been out of work, lady?” a man shouted from across the room. “You ever had to worry about feedin’ your kids?”

That set off a chorus of jeers directed at Joanna. “You ain’t even from here,” a woman screamed. “And you’ll get rich from sellin’ your land. Hell, you’re rich already. Take the money and go back where you come from.”

Joanna wouldn’t be silenced. Ignoring the whooping crowd, she focused on Archer. “Where do you get the right to tell me I have to give up my land and my business just because your company wants it?”

People around her rose in solidarity, and Rachel, then Holly, rose with them. Tom stepped forward into the center of the gym and raised a hand in a signal to the deputies at the rear of the bleachers. On both sides, the uniformed men began moving down into the aisles between sections, ready to act if the crowd got out of control. Archer looked on with a little smile, showing no inclination to help calm things down.

A woman yelled, “All you think about is keepin’ what’s yours. You don’t give a damn if the rest of us can’t find decent jobs.”

Decent jobs? Keep your mouth shut, Rachel told herself. Stay out of it.
But these people had no idea what a predatory company they were inviting into their midst. Rachel knew. She’d done hours of research on Packard. Somebody had to force the citizens of Mason County to look at reality. But it couldn’t be her. She owed it to Tom to stay quiet.

To Rachel’s surprise, Holly spoke up. “If this place gets built here, nothing’s ever goin’ to be the same again. We’ll lose our peace and quiet. We’ll get a lot of traffic and all those strangers comin’ in. It’ll destroy our way of life.”

“What way of life?” a gravelly male voice shouted. “Bein’ dirt poor? Easy for you to talk, missy, after gettin’ all that money from your dead aunt.”

Holly seemed ready to shoot back a reply, but Rachel gripped her arm hard enough to stop her. “Don’t get into a fight with them. It’s pointless.”

A jumble of curses and accusations flew across the gym between the two groups, voices rising, fingers pointing, fists shaking.

Joanna had gone pale, her breathing rapid and shallow, and Rachel worried that she might faint. Placing an arm around her friend’s shoulders, Rachel felt Joanna trembling.

Tom grabbed the microphone from Archer. “Settle down,” he ordered the crowd, his deep, firm voice cutting through the racket, “or we’ll clear the room. If you can’t sit down and be quiet, you’ll have to leave.”

“She’s gonna keep this from goin’ through,” a red-haired woman protested. “Somebody needs to make her do what’s right.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” Joanna cried. “You can’t tell me what to do with my own property.”

That provoked another storm of jeers.

Seeing Archer’s smug expression, Rachel realized this was exactly what he had hoped for: division in the community that would be strong enough to intimidate the holdouts into selling their land. He, or someone working for him, had made sure everyone knew Joanna was the primary enemy. The Packard representative had a job to do here, and when he’d achieved his objectives he would move on to disrupt some other community and never look back. He never had to stay and live with the animosity he’d stirred up.

When Tom succeeded in lowering the uproar to an angry mutter, Archer reclaimed the microphone and held up a hand like an evangelist exhorting the faithful. He was slick enough to justify the comparison, Rachel thought. A salesman, through and through.

“We’ve made firm offers for our initial land purchases,” Archer told the crowd, “and we hope we’ll be signing contracts soon. As I told you, whether we move ahead or not depends on our being able to purchase the acreage we need. The future of this project rests with the people of Mason County. Whether you choose progress or stagnation—the decision is in your hands.”

That was too much. Rachel had to say something. “Mr. Archer, would you mind answering a few questions about the way your company treats people?”

Without altering his smile, Archer opened his mouth to respond.

Rachel didn’t give him the chance. “Is it true that you hire half your employees as part-time workers so you won’t have to give them any benefits? And do you pay most of your employees minimum wage? Do you make them work on holidays without overtime pay? Is it true that if somebody gets sick, you fire them? If a woman gets pregnant, do you fire her as soon as her pregnancy starts to show? Is it true that more than two dozen major lawsuits by former employees are pending against Packard all over the country?”

The crowd exploded. Boos from the pro-development side echoed off the high ceiling, drowning out the shouts from the anti-development people.

Tom marched over to Rachel, his face tight with anger and frustration. “Rachel, what are you doing? You’re just making matters worse.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t sit here and listen—”

The noise cut her off as both sides hurled insults and threats. People streamed from the bleachers and onto the gym floor, headed for a clash.

“Will you please go home?” Tom yelled at Rachel. “I’ve got a job to do. I can’t protect you.”

Joanna gripped Rachel’s arm and shouted in her ear, “Let’s get out of here.”

Rachel, Joanna, and Holly edged through the swarming bodies and made it to the exit. Pushing open the door, Rachel gulped fresh, cool air.

Joanna, grim-faced, didn’t speak until the door closed behind them. She stuffed her fists into her jacket pockets and hunched her shoulders. “What am I going to do? How am I going to stop this?”

“You’ll stop it by saying no,” Rachel told her.

“That’s right,” Holly said. “Nobody can force you to sell your land.”

“Not directly.” A gust of wind blew Joanna’s hair across her face, but she didn’t bother to push it aside. “It’s obvious what they’re doing. They think if they get everybody mad at me, they’ll scare me into selling. I’m going to need a stiff backbone to stand up to them.”

“The Joanna I know has plenty of backbone,” Rachel told her.

The gymnasium door burst open and a dozen people poured out. Rachel, Holly and Joanna hurried ahead of them into the parking lot.

After they’d gone ten yards, the men and women coming up behind suddenly surrounded them, pressing close. A muscular young man jostled Joanna and almost knocked her off her feet. Rachel grabbed her arm to steady her.

“Hey!” Joanna lunged and caught the back of the man’s jacket as he passed. “Do you need a lesson in manners?”

Without breaking stride or looking around, the man jerked his jacket free. The wind carried his mocking laughter back to them.

A heavy middle-aged woman bumped her shoulder against Rachel’s. When Rachel saw a man moving in on Holly, she pointed a finger at him and warned, “If you touch any of us again my husband will arrest you for assault.”

The man stepped back, raising his hands and making a show of mock terror. “Ooh, I’m scaaaard of the sheriff’s wife.”

“You should be.” Rachel linked arms with Joanna and Holly and they walked on. How strange it felt to be protecting Joanna. The other way around felt more natural.

As they walked up to Joanna’s green Cherokee, her face crumpled like paper in a fist. “God damn it. Will you look at that?”

Somebody had painted SELFISH BITCH on the rear of the SUV with white paint, so fresh it still dripped onto the pavement.

“That’s not all they did.” Rachel pointed at the rear tires. Both bore long, ragged slashes and were already halfway to flat.

Holly darted around to the front of the vehicle to take a look. “These are cut, too.”

“I’ll drive you back to the horse farm,” Rachel told Joanna. “You can send a couple of your men over to deal with this.”

Joanna nodded, but for a moment she didn’t move. Staring at her damaged Cherokee, she said in a quiet voice, “I’m lucky, I guess. I’ve pissed off a lot of people. I could’ve ended up like Lincoln and Marie.”

Rachel didn’t say it aloud, but the first thought that came to mind was,
You still could.

Chapter Sixteen

The crowd shoved and shouted, lobbing insults and threats, and a couple of scuffles broke out, but Tom and the deputies managed to steer everybody out the door to the parking lot without bloodshed. Tom was damned glad he’d banned guns at the meeting.

Lawrence Archer, Robert McClure, and the seven county supervisors had formed a protective circle around the scale model of the proposed resort while the room was being cleared. Archer’s smirk of amusement never faded.

After deputies escorted the last of the audience from the gym, Tom strode over to the men. “I’d advise you to wait a few minutes for people to leave before you take all this out.” He gestured at the display and the podium. “So you don’t start the whole shouting match all over again in the parking lot.”

Archer’s grin broadened. “You and your men are very efficient,” he said to Tom. “That looked about as easy as herding cats.”

God, what an idiot.
“This project’s pushing a lot of hot buttons with these people. I hope you’ve gotten some idea of how divisive it is.”

Tom saw McClure and the commissioners stiffen, getting ready to cut him off if they had to.

Archer waved a hand dismissively. “I’m used to it. We go through a version of this everywhere we build. There’s always somebody who thinks any kind of development’s a bad idea. But the majority’s usually in favor. We’ve never had to drop our plans.”

“Is that right? Have you ever caused a murder before?”

“Now hold on, Bridger—” McClure started.

“Murder?” Somehow Archer managed to frown without losing his general air of condescending amusement. “Are you saying we’re responsible for somebody being murdered?”

“Ask Mr. McClure.” Tom flicked a hand in the banker’s direction. “He can tell you all about it. He was nearby when it happened.”

McClure shook his head. “You can’t blame the Kellys’ deaths on this project. Do your job and find out the real reason they were killed, and stop throwing around wild accusations.”

“I don’t have to be told to do my job,” Tom said. “I hope it turns out the motive was personal. I hope the Kelly shooting was an isolated crime, and when we make an arrest that’ll be the end of it. But I’m starting to think it was just the beginning of something a lot worse.”

“That’s just…that’s absurd,” McClure sputtered.

Ellis O’Toole, the county board chairman, glared at Tom from behind his thick bifocals. “That is an irresponsible statement, Sheriff Bridger, completely unfounded, and I don’t want to hear that you’re spreading that kind of negative opinion around.”

“We can’t ignore what’s going on here,” Tom said. “This is stirring up a lot of anger and resentment on both sides. A couple who refused to sell their land were murdered yesterday, and I’m worried about what’s going to happen next. Some people are so damned determined to force others off their land and see this deal go through, I don’t think they’ll stop with words.”

Archer made a gesture of innocent helplessness, palms up. “Maybe Packard should just pull the plug on this project right now.”

You son of a bitch, Tom thought. The guy wasn’t capable of straight talk. The minute he’d met Archer, he’d known what kind of man he was: slick and slippery, always polite and ingratiating, phony enough to turn any clear-eyed person’s stomach. McClure and the supervisors had dollar signs flashing in their eyes, and they weren’t seeing anything clearly.

O’Toole rushed to reassure Archer. “Our sheriff is imagining things. The government of this county supports growth and development and new jobs for our residents.” He fixed a cold look on Tom. “Do your job and leave the business matters to us. And find a way to control that wife of yours.”

Tom bristled. He was going to give Rachel hell when he saw at her home, but he wouldn’t put up with the likes of Ellis O’Toole criticizing her. “My wife is a grown woman with her own opinions. The county board doesn’t tell her what to think.”

Tilting his head upward, O’Toole squinted at Tom through the bottom of his bifocals. Then he grasped Tom’s arm and led him a few feet away from the other men. Startled, Tom didn’t resist.

O’Toole kept his voice low but masked none of his anger. “There’s one thing the board can do, and if you’re smart you’ll keep it in mind. An election put you in office, but if you give us cause, the board will find a way to remove you.”

***

“Will you go in with me?” Joanna asked as Rachel pulled her Range Rover into the driveway. “Maybe they’ll act like civilized people if you’re there.”

“I have to go pick up Simon. He’s spending a few days with us. Besides, what influence would I have on the Kellys’ son and daughter? I’m a stranger to them.”

“Exactly. They might tone it down in front of somebody they don’t know.” Joanna unbuckled her seat belt. “Please, honey, just come in for a minute.”

Rachel wasn’t keen to walk into another verbal brawl, but she had to admit she was curious about Ronan and Sheila Kelly. Ronan had stayed at Joanna’s house overnight. Sheila had arrived that morning, and according to Joanna they’d started bickering the second they landed in the same room. On the drive back from the meeting, Joanna voiced a fervent wish that one or both would be gone by now, but two cars Rachel had never seen before sat on the farm road in front of the house.

“Please,” Joanna repeated. “I’ve had all the screaming I can take for one day.”

With great reluctance, Rachel killed the engine and climbed out.

The second Joanna swung the front door open, her golden retriever, Nan, and her little mutt, Riley, bounded out, followed by the Kellys’ dog, Bonnie. Rachel was afraid Bonnie would take off for home, but she seemed content to stay in the yard with the other two.

“It’s half mine,” Ronan Kelly was saying as Joanna and Rachel walked into the living room. “I have as much control as you do.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Sheila said. “Can’t you at least wait until they’ve been buried? We have a funeral to plan. Not to mention helping Tom find out who killed them. I’m not going to talk about property and money right now, and that’s final.”

Joanna raised her voice to be heard over their continuing argument. “Can y’all stop fighting long enough to meet my guest?”

Startled, they snapped their heads toward Joanna and Rachel.

Tall and attractive, both sister and brother had the same olive skin tone and coal-black hair that gave Tom and Holly their distinctive appearance. These were among the few people Rachel had come across in Mason County who were recognizable as Melungeon.

Joanna introduced Rachel.

Sheila stepped forward and offered a hand. “Hi, I’m Sheila Hayes, Lincoln and Marie Kelly’s daughter.”

When they shook, Rachel noted that Sheila looked exhausted and puffy-eyed from crying. She appeared calmer than her brother, though. Ronan gave Rachel a moist, jerky handshake and regarded her as if she were an unwelcome interruption.

“I’m sorry about your mother and father,” Rachel said. “They were good people.”

Both murmured their thanks, then stood for a moment in awkward silence. Rachel expected them to say something about the horror of losing both parents to murder, but neither spoke.

“I have their rabbits,” Rachel said. “I can bring them to you anytime you—”

“No,” they said in unison.

“You don’t want them?”

“I can’t take a couple of rabbits home with me,” Ronan said, with no further explanation.

Sheila added, “I couldn’t possibly take them either. My husband and I are both attorneys. We work eighteen-hour days. We don’t have time for pets.”

“Oh, really?” Joanna said. “And what are you going to do about that dog that doesn’t have a home now? Linc and Marie doted on her. They’d want her taken care of.”

Sheila and Ronan exchanged a glance, as if each was waiting for the other to do the right thing.

Joanna threw up her hands. “All right, if that’s the way it is. I guess I just acquired another dog.”

“And what do you want me to do with the rabbits?” Rachel asked.

Ronan gave a couldn’t-care-less shrug and Sheila said, “Does it matter, really? I mean, they’re just rabbits. Maybe you could turn them loose in a field somewhere?”

These two, Rachel thought, must have been dropped into the wrong nest when the stork made his rounds. They couldn’t be more different from their gentle, animal-loving parents.

Obviously reacting to the expression on Rachel’s face, Sheila hastened to correct herself. “No, no, of course you couldn’t do that, it wouldn’t be humane. Maybe the Jones sisters might like to have them. They have quite a menagerie over there.”

“They’re vegetarians, so at least they won’t cook them for dinner,” Ronan said, grinning as if he’d made a joke.

“I’ll ask.” Rachel didn’t trust herself to say more.

“So how did the meeting go?” Ronan stuffed his fists into his pants pockets. “Did it turn into a free-for-all?”

“More or less.” Joanna peeled off her barn jacket and flung it across the back of the sofa. “A lot of shouting. Somebody vandalized my Cherokee, and now I have to get it towed back here.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Sheila murmured.

“You know,” Ronan said, “you really ought to start thinking about taking that offer from—”

“For God’s sake,” Sheila snapped, “can’t you give it a rest?”

“I’m just saying it’s a hell of a lot of money. An offer like that won’t come along again.”

Her face flushed with anger, Joanna crossed her arms and fixed a steely glare on Ronan. He seemed reluctant to meet her eyes, his gaze jumping from one spot to another. Rachel wondered if she could escape and go home without any of them noticing. But Joanna would probably strangle her if she tried.

“This isn’t the time or place, Ronan,” Sheila said.

“She ought to know that everybody around her is selling.”

“Do you think she doesn’t know that? She lives here, for God’s sake. And I thought I made it clear that you’re not going to pressure me either.”

“Why the hell should we wait? The property’s in trust. It’s already ours. We can sell it today if we want to.”

“I’m not going to make a decision now, Ronan. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Ronan reached toward his sister with open hands, and for a second Rachel feared he was going to grab her. But he curled his hands into fists again and jammed them back into his pockets. A muscle in his cheek twitched. “You don’t have any use for the place. You’re not going to come back here to visit now that Mom and Dad are gone. You’ll never set foot in Mason County again.”

“That’s not the point.”

“No, it’s not, is it?” Ronan’s voice rose to a near shout. “Sticking it to me, that’s your point. Anything you can do to drag me under, I can count on you doing it.”

“Oh, please. You sound like a five-year-old.”

In the space of a second Ronan pulled a fist from a pocket and aimed it at his sister. Rachel and Joanna both stepped closer to intervene, but Sheila stood her ground, unfazed.

At the last instant, Ronan uncurled a finger and stuck it in her face. “You’ve talked to me like that for the last time. I’ll force you to sell.”

“Try it.”

“Count on it! Joanna, thank you for letting me stay here last night. I’ve already put my things in the car. I’m moving over to the farm. Then I’m going to see their lawyer.” Ronan turned and stalked out of the room and out of the house.

“Hey, Ronan, it’s Saturday,” Sheila called after him, but he didn’t seem to hear. She shook her head and said with a little smile, “He’ll probably track the poor man down at home. When we hear an explosion in the distance, we’ll know my brother’s just found out where things really stand. He’s about to get the shock of his life.”

Through the front window Rachel watched Ronan cross the yard to his car. Bonnie, who lay in the grass with the other dogs, jumped up, tail wagging, when Ronan approached, but he strode past her without so much as a glance. Her tail drooped and she dropped onto her belly.

“Is this something that’s going to shock me, too?” Joanna asked Sheila. “I don’t like surprises.”

Curious, Rachel turned back to the two women.

Sheila shrugged. “I might as well tell you. I’ve already told Tom, and it’ll all come out soon. Ronan thinks he has an equal share in the trust, but he doesn’t. My parents loaned him a lot of money over the years, money they couldn’t afford to lose, and he threw it away on his business schemes. He never repaid a cent of it. He’s only getting a quarter of their estate.”

“And they never told him?” Joanna sounded more curious than shocked.

“Why should they? He was driving them crazy as it was, always trying to wheedle more money out of them. If they’d told him about changing the trust, he would’ve hounded them for the rest of—” Sheila broke off, squeezed her eyes shut, and swallowed hard. “The rest of their lives,” she finished in a whisper.

Joanna placed a consoling hand on Sheila’s shoulder, but Rachel could see in Joanna’s distracted, anxious expression that only one thought, one question, burned in her mind.

Rachel decided to ask the question herself. “Are you going to sell your parents’ farm to Packard?”

Sheila sighed and pushed a loose strand of black hair off her cheek. “I have to plan a funeral before I make any decisions about the farm.” As if she had no idea she was torturing Joanna, Sheila asked her, “Will you help me with the arrangements? And do you mind if I stay here?”

Joanna hesitated before answering. “Sure. You’re welcome to stay here. I can see why you wouldn’t want to stay at home. At your parents’ house.”

“I think I could handle knowing what happened there. It’s not that so much as…to tell you the truth, I don’t want to be alone with Ronan after he finds out about the trust. I’m afraid of him.”

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