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Authors: Paul Robertson

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Add it all together, and it sounded like over a year ago, sometrinkle, somewhere, had high expectations of a complete Gold River Highway. And Regency had trusted them enough by December to sign a contract— with a contingency. Trust, but verify.

He put the papers back into the envelope.

Mr. Phelps, this tape will self-destruct in five seconds.

September 19, Tuesday

“What’s on your mind, Joe?” Gordon said. “Because I hope you’ve got over all that other.”

“I haven’t.”

“Oh, I wish you had. There’s nothing to it, Joe, and you’ll be better off to give it up. Nothing’s changed since summer.”

“I know who’s behind the road, and how it got this far,” Joe said.

Gordon settled his whole weight into his chair, ready to be aggravated. “There’s always tomfoolery when the state does anything, and I don’t care much about it. Last time you were claiming someone shot Wade Harris, and that’s what I don’t want to hear about.”

“I came to ask you one thing. I want to know what you and Dr. Colony are so worried about anybody uncovering.”

“I’ll tell you it’s police business, Joe, and not your business.”

“Does it have anything to do with the Trinkle family or the new shopping center?”

“No, it doesn’t. And don’t start quizzing me.”

“Then just tell me.”

“I’m not going to, Joe. I’m as elected as you are, and you can’t come in here and demand me to answer questions.”

“I can still call in the State Police if you won’t do your job,” Joe said.

“You’ve been saying that for months.”

“The reason I haven’t is you and Dr. Colony saying I shouldn’t. It’s time I knew if that’s a good enough reason.”

“Oh, all right!” Gordon was plenty aggravated. “It’s Jeremy Coates.”

Joe waited.

“You’re making it worse than it has any right to be,” Gordon said. “Jeremy went and got himself a gun, and he’s been shooting out peoples’ car windshields, and that’s all there is.”

“Why would he be doing that?”

“You’d have to ask him. It was Roland that brought him in here. Jeremy had shot at Randy McCoy’s car, and Roland’s, too.”

“He must have had some reason.”

“I guess it was about Roland selling his factory and Jeremy thinking he could stop it. I don’t know, it’s all mixed up. But I let him off when he said he wouldn’t do anything else foolish. Now, Joe, you know what’ll happen if outside police come in and look around. They’ll be sure Jeremy shot at Wade and hit him, and he won’t have any way to prove he didn’t.”

“Where was Jeremy that night?”

“I asked him and he said he was over in Asheville, where he lives.”

“Why are you so worried for him? It sounds like he should be arrested.”

“But not for killing Wade Harris. Roland thought right away that he had, and had me out to the factory to arrest the boy, and I had to calm Roland down and tell him that Everett Colony and I had both checked real well and there weren’t any bullets in Wade or the car.”

“You never did,” Joe said. “You or Dr. Colony.”

“Because there weren’t any, and I didn’t have to.”

“Why’s Dr. Colony part of this anyway?”

“He’s the one who’s so sure we shouldn’t get outsiders involved.”

“I wonder why he’s so sure.”

“I guess you should ask him.”

Except he wouldn’t give an answer. “Did anybody ever tell Randy any of this?”

“There’s no need to. He got his car fixed, and he told Gabe it was just a rock that hit the windshield while he was driving, so that’s what he thinks it is.”

“While he was driving?” Joe couldn’t keep the anger down. “He was in the car when Jeremy shot at it?”

“Nobody got hurt.”

“He could have.”

“But he didn’t.”

“But Randy asked you about finding a bullet?”

“He claimed he just found it out in his yard or such.”

“You knew where the bullet was from,” Joe said. “You should have told him.”

“There’s no need.”

“Gordon, you’re acting a fool.” Joe said it as hard as he could, slapping him with the words.

“Joe, what good will it do anybody to put Jeremy Coates in jail?”

“Sounds like he should be, and you with him.”

“And what would that do? Do you think that does anyone any good? And what happens after, with it in newspapers across the state, that Jeremy Coates murdered Wade Harris? People who’ve lived here all their lives accused of killing each other? If you try to call in the State Police, I’ll fight you. I’ve asked what happens if you try by yourself to get them in here, without my being part of it. You’ll have to get a judge to decide between us, and it might sound just as crazy to him as it does to me and as it would to anybody. I’m no fool. It’s you that is. There’s not everybody in the county who’d say you’re still fit for the job you have.”

“I’ll do what I have to,” Joe said. “Whatever people think.”

“Oh, you’re home!” Louise ran out into the hall. There was Byron dropping his lunch pail on the chair, and Matt right behind him.

“We’re home,” Byron said. “What’s for supper?”

“Pork chops and rice. You must be famished. Are you hungry, Matt?”

“Sure, Grandma.”

“Loading lumber into the saws all day,” Byron said. “The boy’s working harder than anyone.”

“It’s okay,” Matt said, with his big smile. “It’s more fun than patrolling Baghdad. I’ve never seen such a huge pile of furniture.”

“It’ll be a lot more,” Byron said.

“How will Mr. Coates ever sell it?”

“He’s trying, Louise! Let the man alone.”

“I just wonder,” she said.

“Doris says he was talking about opening his own store, up there in Gold Valley at the new shopping center.”

“Don’t you start that, Byron.” But she didn’t feel like arguing. “We’ve been through too much together to fight.”

“Mr. Jarvis? Hi!” Use the happy voice. “This is Steve Carter, up in Jefferson County.”

Short pause. “Well, Steve, good to hear from you. How are things going up there?”

“Very well, thank you.” Try . . . Paul Newman, in
The Sting.
No, more like Robert Redford. “I had a few questions.”

“Oh sure, Steve. I hope you’ve had some questions answered already?”

“Yes. I have. Thanks very much for asking. All I’ve got left are a couple of the technical ones I mentioned before.”

“Just tell me what you want.”

“I think I’m okay now with the traffic projections, and of course that was the big one. I guess just some more on the environmental impact. Oh, and how about the core samples? Just the data. You don’t have to send me any dirt!”

Stupid joke.

“Ha! That should be no problem.”

Jarvis is laughing at stupid jokes. That would mean he knows he needs to keep his friend on the board happy.

“Great. Now. Just between us. What would be the chance of getting anything changed? It would sure be a lot easier if it didn’t have to be such a huge road.”

“I understand.” Longer pause. “Okay, between us, there is not any chance. We’re working with traffic projections that were given to us, and we have to satisfy them. Those numbers require a road that size.”

“And, um, just really between us. I mean completely off the record. Those projections are complete fairy tale.”

Jarvis didn’t pause. “Three bears plus Goldilocks. That’s four lanes.”

“Okay. Back in the real world. Supposedly, the grant was funded before the project was planned, so there was no telling back then if twenty million would be enough.”

“Theoretically, that is true,” Jarvis said. “If we hadn’t known what the project was, there would have been no telling if that was enough.”

So . . . if they had known what the project was, they would have known how much the grant should be. Too twisted.

“What if twenty million isn’t enough?”

“We’d just redesign and build what we could. But, strangely enough, twenty million is exactly the right amount.”

“Good evening, Ed,” Randy said over the hedge, which Ed Fiddler was giving one last trim for the fall, which happened to be the time each year that Ed’s homeowner policy came up for renewal. “I’m seeing just a little red and orange out there in the leaves.”

“Right on time,” Ed said. “Beautiful time of the year.”

“It is that, it certainly is. Makes me think of homecoming.”

“It’ll be Hoarde County this year.”

“I still remember that pass you threw at the homecoming game our senior year against Hoarde County,” Randy said, nice and jovial.

“I remember it like yesterday! Those were the days, Randy. But I’m looking for a game this year, too. Your Kyle’s got an arm.”

It was all just a friendly chat between two neighbors, and friends, and if it did happen to leave Ed slightly more disposed to send in that renewal payment, that would be an added bonus. No need to actually mention the insurance—the letter from the underwriter would have already come and be sitting on Ed’s desk, and Ed might have even sent in his payment just automatic without thinking about it. It just didn’t hurt to be friendly.

“And Ed,” Randy said, thinking Ed’s promotion at the bank would make light conversation on an agreeable subject, “I guess you’ve gotten used to being vice-president now?”

“I’d been doing the job for years, working toward it,” he said. “It’s nice to finally get the title, as well.”

“And the paycheck, I hope.”

“That’s been nice, too. Not that we’re a big bank with big salaries, but it was a nice increase. Now, Randy, talk about being a small bank, I’ve got my eye on Gold Valley.”

Randy caught his smile just before it fell right off onto the sidewalk.

“What are you thinking about that, Ed?”

“I’d like to get a branch out there in the new shopping center. Of course the real profit’s in mortgages out there. If we had a loan office where people could see us, and got in with the developer—now, that could be some real growth.”

“That’s good to know. I’ll be glad when it’s all voted on and done with. I don’t know what Everett Colony will do if they do build the road.”

“Pack up and leave, probably. I thought he was doing that last spring.”

“Leave town?”

“Since we’re neighbors,” Ed said, lowering his voice, “and I know it won’t go any further. I did wonder if he was. He walked into the bank and took fifty thousand dollars out of savings. In cash. They had to call me down to approve it.”

“Cash? Fifty thousand?”

“Then the next Monday he put it all back in.”

“Of all things,” Randy said. “When was that?”

“End of April. It was a Friday. I remember because it was the day they put up the list of starters for the football game and Kenny was listed as a receiver. He sure was excited.”

“I remember Kyle telling me he’d made quarterback.” He shook his head. “I wonder what Everett Colony was going to do with fifty thousand dollars in cash. And then he didn’t do it.”

“Next is talking to Dr. Colony,” Joe said. “I’m not looking forward to it.”

“Just to ask him about Jeremy Coates?”

They were back from their walk and were sitting in the kitchen. He’d made a point of taking walks together. Rose had made a point of sitting with him at night, and not cooking or sewing.

“He might know why Jeremy was doing what he was. But what I’d like to know is why Dr. Colony wants to hide it. He’ll have some reason more than protecting the boy.”

“There might be something else he wants to hide?”

“That would be my guess.”

Then they sat, quiet, thinking their thoughts.

Sixty years side by side.

“Joe. You’re being careful, aren’t you?”

It was the first time she’d said that.

“Not much I can do.” Then he thought better. “I am.”

“What would happen if the State Police came?”

“I don’t know. They might not find anything. Or they might find everything there is. It’ll be opening a door and it can’t be shut. I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s a hard choice,” she said.

“It’s a hard choice.”

October

October 2, Monday

Again, it was time. Eliza waited; Joe struck the table; the meeting had begun.

“Come to order. Go ahead, Patsy.”

The names were called and answered. The first vote was taken.

Then Joe spoke. “Next is receiving public comment.” She prepared herself to listen; there would be much to hear.

She had become familiar with this way of speaking. It was ritual speech, not what was used commonly. Each one spoke as if from their heart, as if what they said was well accepted and apparent, as if everything was one color. The rhythm of the words was ritual, the emotion hopeful or fearful, angry or thoughtful. In the first months Eliza had mistaken that the speaking
was
heartfelt; now she understood it was only ceremonial, for no one truly believed what was said; and everyone listening, and the speaker, understood that the words should not be thought of as truth.

There was some said about
The Factory
and
The Zoning,
and there was much said about
The Shopping Center,
and much more said about
The Road,
and the future and the past and jobs and values and life. Many spoke of
The Mountain.

Ayawisgi.

Eliza listened, to what the speakers said, and to what was spoken through them. She heard the unheard voices and knew the unseen speakers and felt the conflict rising like a flood.

There would soon be violence.

What was her part? The Warrior said as always, but with increasing strength and anger,
Do not desecrate, do not defile, do not violate.

Finally she closed her eyes and withdrew. The tempest was too great. She was only pulled back by Joe’s voice, like gravel.

“We will continue with our agenda now.”

This was the next ritual. Many statements of very obscure meaning, each followed by a few words by Louise or another, then a vote. And as always, she heard nothing.

“Eliza?”

“I vote no.”

And she even smiled. Were the words as murky to the Warrior as they were to her? He offered her no guidance on any of them.

But then there was a discussion she did understand, in part.

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