Читать книгу Share the Moon - Sharon Struth - Страница 9

“Welcome to tonight’s public hearing. For those who don’t know me, I’m Northbridge First Selectman, Buzz Harris.” Buzz spoke close into the microphone and his rough voice made the speakers screech. “Since this is a zoning matter, our moderator tonight will be….”

Sophie’s anger drowned out his chatter. She clamped her jaw vise tight as she watched the man she now knew as Duncan Jamieson whispering into his lawyer’s ear.

She flinched when both men stopped talking and stared right at her. She glanced stage left to the dark curtains as her neck and ears went impossibly hot. Wait. She wasn’t the liar. She snapped her head in their direction, but they’d turned their attention on Buzz.

The second-term selectman gripped the sides of the podium, his brown suit jacket tightening around his stocky arms. He continued his opening statement in support of the resort project, the lines on his square face pulled more taut than usual. A sweep of his fingers through the thick gray hair near his temples, a habit of his whenever controversy was present, confirmed his discomfort.

Buzz continued his opening address. In his role as a full-fledged member of the local old boy’s network, he manipulated the boards under his reign with ease. Sophie kept a careful watch on politicians like him, just waiting for them to cross the fine line into genuine corruption. What kind of pull did he have with zoning on this matter?

As she scribbled down one of Buzz’s statements, she remembered her five dollar bet with Cliff. Would he consider “Reporter Wooed by Nemesis” an adequate win?

Buzz introduced Duncan Jamieson. The handsome executive strode to the podium with the self-assurance of a king. He leaned with his elbows on the walnut top, fingers steepled together while he surveyed the crowd. His gaze lingered over her longer than the others. This time, she didn’t look away and tried out her best death glare.

He cleared his throat and scanned the room. “First, I’m happy the hearing is so well attended. One thing is clear. The residents of this community care about its well-being.” His arms opened wide, a gesture that would’ve made Dale Carnegie proud. “The vision RGI holds is for our resort to become a part of the lake’s history and to honor the people who live here by our contribution to the area.”

The confidence Duncan had exhibited when taking over Sophie’s boat problem was magnified in his formal presentation. He addressed Board members with familiarity, as if he’d known them forever, and discussed the town with the authority of a newly anointed mayor.

Bernadette’s dated auditorium chair squeaked. Her breath gushed next to Sophie’s ear. “Jeesh, you’d think this guy was the new grand pooh-bah.”

Sophie turned sideways. “Confidence isn’t one of his problems.”

Bernadette raised a questioning brow.

“Later.”

“RGI is committed to working collaboratively with all parties.” Duncan put on a contemplative frown. “Especially those who have concerns. We hope to have a partnership with S.O.L.E. because my firm cares about the environment as much as the rest of you.”

Bernadette exhaled, so loud Duncan’s head jerked in their direction. Her seat squeaked again and she whispered in Sophie’s ear. “I’ll bet he thinks he’ll finish and waltz out of here tonight without a single question. Guess he doesn’t know how things work in Northbridge.”

Sophie nodded. Their small New England form of government was called a town meeting format. The residents were seasoned pros at public forums, where local decisions were often made. Public hearings were their idea of a fun night out. Bernadette liked to brag she could recite Robert’s Rules of Order with the same ease she could list the ice cream flavors at the Dairy Inn.

“Most important, RGI wants full disclosure of all information.” His gaze drifted to Sophie, causing the same jolt she’d received the first time they met. “I hope to work closely with the local press to ensure everyone is informed.”

She attempted no outward reaction. Inside, though, her emotional needle swung back and forth between desire and rage.

Bernadette surfaced again with the persistence of a pesky gnat. “Hmm. I’ll bet he does.”

Sophie narrowed her gaze at Bernadette, who leaned back in the seat, her lips pressed into a thin smirk.

How could she interview this guy afterward? His flirty wink suggested he hadn’t thought twice about the sham he’d tried to pull on her.

He finished to applause mixed with low boos. The moderator and zoning board chairman, Adli Zimmerman, went to the podium and opened the floor for public comments.

Bernadette popped from her seat, in perfect position to win the relay race to the microphone. Several others lined up behind her. Adli ran an anxious hand across his bald scalp, centered between trim white mounds melting into sideburns.

She grabbed the microphone fast and tight. “Bernadette Felton. Twenty-four Appletree Drive.”

Buzz hurried from his seat and went to Duncan, his forehead crumpled with deep lines of worry. He whispered in Duncan’s ear. The executive nodded, but the slight wilt of his shoulders suggested the secret stole some of his confidence.

Sophie’s nerves twitched. One question circulating around town about this project was founded in pure gossip. Nobody had the nerve to ask this in a public venue. Nobody except Bernadette.

* * * *

Three hours later, the line at the microphone had dwindled to one person. Sophie’s bottom ached from sitting so long and she wanted to run to the restroom yet didn’t want to miss something good. This would go down as the longest public hearing on record and she hoped this speaker was the last.

The speaker finished in less than a minute. Bernadette hooked her hands over the back of Sophie’s chair. “My first trip to the mic was a warm-up. Watch this.” She bolted for the metal stand, her zeal as she grabbed it holding the promise of a hullabaloo.

Buzz’s jaw unhinged and pure fear settled on his face, as if the ghost of Elvis just entered the building. “Excuse me, Adli.” The speakers screeched. “Only those who haven’t spoken should come forward. Many of us want to get home.”

A low boo rumbled from the crowd.

From behind the podium, Adli adjusted his wire-framed glasses. “I understand your concerns, Buzz. However, the first time Bernadette spoke, she represented her special interest group. In fairness, we should give her an opportunity to speak once on her own behalf.” He peered over the tops of his spectacles at Bernadette. “If that’s what she intends to do.”

Bernadette tucked one side of her layered hair behind an ear and tilted her head. “Yes, it is. Thank you, Adli.” Her sweet tone oozed charm. “My question is for our First Selectman.”

Buzz clenched his jaw tight, so tight it seemed seconds away from snapping.

“Mr. Selectman.” She adjusted the microphone to her height. “There’s a great deal of talk around town suggesting some of our elected officials might personally gain from changes in the current zoning. Can you assure the public a fair and democratic process will take place on the board and members won’t be…well, let’s just say I hope they won’t be tainted by outside financial influences.” She paused and stared straight at RGI’s president. “Such as bribes.”

Duncan Jamieson had appeared to listen to the last hour’s worth of speakers with neutral interest. Bernadette’s comment, however, made the color drain from his face. His worried gaze traveled to Buzz, whose profile resembled stone, his anger so tight she half expected his cheeks to crack and crumble.

“Rumors are not statements of fact, Mrs. Felton!” Buzz’s roar shook the room. “I’m a patriotic man and take our democratic process quite seriously. I resent your implication that I, or anybody else in my administration, would do what you’re suggesting.”

Voices filled the air like the low roll of thunder. Buzz pushed his microphone back and threw an angry glare in Adli’s direction. Adli nodded.

“All right, everybody. Calm down. This has been a long night. Most of you have spoken. I am calling an end to this meeting at ten forty-five. Do I hear a second for this motion?”

Someone seconded it and Adli shouted above the noise, “Thank you all for coming.”

Sophie stood, opened her bag, and stored her notepad and pen. Bernadette returned and picked up her jacket from the seat behind Sophie, her satisfied grin suggesting great pleasure over tonight’s outcome. “Guess I raised a few eyebrows, huh?”

Sophie slipped a wool scarf around her neck then zipped her bag closed. “You sure did, my friend. Any idea where the rumor started? It’s just the kind of lead to help me find some legitimate dirt on RGI.”

“No idea.” Bernadette leaned close and whispered, “Sooo…what’s going on with the sandy-haired hottie?” She fanned herself with her fingertips. “Lawdy, lawdy. If his wink didn’t tell all.”

“I’ll discuss it later. I need to interview him now.”

Bernadette twisted her lips and shook her head. “Be careful. You blushed when he winked.”

“I was angry.”

She shrugged. “If you say so, but from where I sat, the last time a guy made you blush, you know what happened.”

Sophie threw a warranted glare at her friend. “Yes, I remember.” She leaned close to Bernadette and whispered, “Listen, this is my chance to prove to Cliff my personal feelings won’t interfere with a story ever again.”

Ryan Malarkey’s arrival in town three years ago would forever fill Sophie with embarrassment. She’d met him around the time she emerged from the dark hole of her divorce and losing a child. Ryan was the defense attorney for a well-known writer living on the lake who’d been accused of murdering his wife.

Ryan’s wavy brown hair and rich chestnut eyes would score an eight on the appearance scale, but what had ruptured Sophie’s better senses was his suave manner and focused attention on her. Each time he begged her to go on a date, she’d refused. After all, she hadn’t completely forgotten about her integrity as a journalist. However, his extra doses of attentiveness soothed her aching soul, empty and untouched for so many years. Thus, when he’d tossed some story leads her way, all favorable to his client, she’d chased them like they were nuggets of gold. They’d run a story based on those leads, leads eventually revealed as false. After reality hit, Cliff just shook his head and mumbled, “Seems your lawyer friend actually is full of malarkey. Now we look like fools.” He’d forgiven Sophie in no time, yet she still hadn’t forgiven herself.

Bernadette touched Sophie’s forearm. “Honey, I’m not sure what’s already gone on between you and El Presidente, but be careful this time. I know how much you got hurt when Ryan took advantage of you. Okay?”

“Trust me, Bern. I’ll never forget how stupid I felt.”

She turned her attention to the stage. Duncan Jamieson schmoozed with two zoning board members, the three of them all smiles.

“Your mention of the rumor definitely ruffled a few feathers up there, starting with RGI’s president. In fact, he just gave me my first lead.”

* * * *

Duncan hurried to the parking lot. After the hearing he’d been pulled aside into a private meeting with the board members and had missed his chance to catch up with Sophie.

He’d wandered to the different pockets of residents huddled in groups talking, searching for her face. Several people cast dirty glances in his direction as he scrutinized them in the dim light. When he entered the auditorium earlier, he’d been elated to spot her amongst the crowd. Her scorching glare, a few seconds after the shock of seeing him passed, reminded him of his misleading introduction.

He turned to the sound of footsteps. Sophie rushed to her car, her blazer tails flapping with a gentle breeze.

Duncan trotted toward her. “Hi. I wondered if I’d run into you tonight.” Puffs of condensation exploded with each word.

“Oh. Hello, Mr. Jamieson. Yes. I work for the local newspaper.” Her relaxed tone from earlier now sounded stiff and formal. “I’ve been looking for you, too.”

The tall parking lot lights glinted off her press badge. “Blue Moon Gazette, huh? I wouldn’t have recognized you from the picture.”

In the photograph, Sophie wore her dark brown hair shorter and her pretty eyes seemed void of life. Different than the long, soft curls she had today, or the smoky quartz sparkle of her gaze that blew him away when he’d helped with the boats.

She wrapped her arms across her chest and covered the photo. “It’s old. I’m the paper’s staff reporter.” She straightened her posture. “As long as you’re here, may I ask you some questions?”

“Sure.”

She removed a pad and pen from her bag, all while her unmistakable glare scorched his skin.

“I’d be happy to answer any questions, but first—”

She flipped open the pad. “What specific steps will your firm take to address environmental concerns—”

“Wait.” He held up a hand. “I’m concerned you might be wondering why I’d tell you my name is Carter.”

“Tell me the specifics about what you plan to do.”

“I plan on having an environmental group perform a study. Sophie, earlier I didn’t—”

“Plans with the scope of RGI’s development are unheard of on this lake. Would you consider modifying them to a smaller scale project if the results show significant damage to—”

“Did I do damage by telling you—”

“That your name is Carter and you’re here to buy a house for your family? You sure did.” She shoved the pad back into her bag. “Neglecting to mention you’re the president of RGI and you’re the one buying the land. That’s what tipped the scale.”

“Sophie, my middle name is Carter. It’s used in—”

“In Northbridge, Mr. Jamieson, a person’s reputation and word go a long way. Actions are never forgotten…both good and bad.”

Duncan counted to ten in his head so he didn’t blow his stack. This frustrating woman had unraveled the calm cool exterior he wore at all times, especially when conducting business. If he yelled at her the way he wanted to right now, God knows what would end up in the newspaper. He couldn’t recall anybody ever having talked to him this way. He drew a breath and then slowly exhaled. “Based on your anger, I’d say I’ve done something so unforgivable neither you nor your newspaper will give fair coverage to my resort story.”

“Fair coverage?” She squeaked. “Is that all you care about?”

A couple walked by and said hello to Sophie. She nodded and forced a weak smile in their direction. When they passed, she looked at him and lowered her voice. “Is your appearance at the kayaks today even a coincidence?”

“What?” Her directness threatened to loosen the bolts of his rusty confidence.

“Look, people have done far crazier things than flirt with someone to manipulate the press.”

“You thought I was flirting with you?” Maybe he wasn’t so rusty. He tried to put on a some-day-we’ll-look-back-on-this-and-laugh grin, hoping she’d find humor in what had happened.

“Whatever!” She waved her hand in the air. “Look, I don’t know what your game is. I’m sure you think you’re very clever.” She stepped to the car door.

“I wasn’t trying to be clever, and I—”

“I think you’ve answered all my questions, Mr. Jamie—”

“Stop being so formal!” A blast of heat rushed up his cheeks. Damn her! The final cord of control belonged to him and he refused to let her end this conversation. “Call me Duncan…or Carter. You’re not even listening to—”

“My work is done here.” She pulled open the door. “Thank you for your time.”

Sophie scooted into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. The car started and her window rolled down. For a half second, he hoped she’d reconsidered leaving.

She glared at him, yet sadness smoldered in the very depths of her dark-brown eyes. “This lake means something to me you’d never understand. Before you go changing things, think about those of us who live here.”

She threw the car into drive and peeled out of the lot. Her taillights disappeared down the road, leaving Duncan’s ego as flattened as if she’d run him over on her way out.

What the hell had just happened?

Regret over the white lie he’d told when they first met doused any remaining confidence. He pulled off his leather glove, reached into his pocket, and removed a hard butterscotch candy. His fingers fumbled as he removed the crinkly cellophane, then he popped it into his mouth. The smooth, sugary treat pacified his nerves like a Glenlivet on the rocks. The day he’d spotted the buttery candies in a drug store, just like the ones he used to enjoy when he visited his grandmother’s simple home, he’d located a satisfying replacement for his Marlboros.

The sound of footsteps made him turn around.

“Sophie’s bark is worse than her bite.” Buzz’s smug smirk hinted he’d heard some of their conversation.

“What?”

“She seemed mad.”

The selectman’s coat hung open over his suit. Duncan’s winter wool overcoat was buttoned to his neck with a scarf and he still had a chill. “We had a little miscommunication.”

“Because you trumped her on the deal with the Tates?”

“She was the other buyer?” He rolled the candy over his tongue and digested the new information. He bit down and it shattered.

“Yeah. Her brother and father wanted in on the purchase too. A big stretch financially for them, though.” Buzz raised a dismissive hand. “They wanted to restore the vineyard, produce wine there like the Tates did years ago. The finances got complicated. Otis and Elmer were pretty happy when you came along.”

He’d heard another buyer had been close to signing. Duncan never dreamed it was Sophie. He swallowed the candy remains. “When you told me about the land, I wish you had mentioned I’d outbid her.”

“Why?” The cracked age lines in Buzz’s skin furrowed with a frown. “Would you have changed your mind?”

Would he? “I’m a businessman. I like all the facts.”

“Okay, okay. Not a biggie. Besides, you oughta be able to handle Sophie. With your charm, I’m sure she’ll find her way to your side. Remember, if we can get the local paper to push the favorable points of this project, it’ll make things easier for zoning to vote for the changes.”

Over the years, Duncan had acquired a carefully balanced appreciation for politicians like Buzz. He didn’t care for them. Still, they were a necessary part of dealing with the types of projects his firm handled.

“Buzz, I want the press on my side, but only if we do things properly. Tactfully.” Duncan paused and replayed his little fib to Sophie. “And with the truth…as much as possible.”

“Uh-huh. Don’t go fretting over that tree-hugger study, either.” He shoved his hands into his overcoat pockets, as if he wished to instead stuff away his earlier aggravation toward the special interest group spokesperson. “Bernadette Felton’s always on the opposite side of the fence from me. I swear to God, if I opposed your proposal, she’d support it!”

The mention of the S.O.L.E. activist and her bribery accusation brought a return of the sick pit in the hollow of his gut. “Any idea where those bribery rumors started?”

The selectman’s face tightened. “No idea. One person speculates in this town and suddenly the theory spreads like wildfire. Like I said, don’t lose sleep over her.”

“She’s not what I’m worried about. It’s…never mind. I want the local Gazette to have good things to say about my firm. An environmental study might be the thing.”

“I guess.” Buzz pressed his lips tight.

“What’s Sophie’s story?”

“Hometown gal. Got divorced a while back.” Buzz cocked his head. “That should work in your favor.”

Duncan ignored the implication. “She’d probably love to see my project fail.”

Buzz’s throaty grunt showed agreement.

“Anything else I should know about Sophie? I mean, if I’m to get her to come around to our side.”

Buzz hesitated a second too long. “Nope. Do yourself a favor. Don’t try to figure her out. Or any other woman, for that matter.”

Duncan forced a smile but only to hide an unexpected wave of sadness sweeping over him. If he’d been able to figure out his wife, maybe their marriage would’ve been happier. “The voice of experience, huh?”

“Married almost forty-five years.” Buzz turned to walk toward his car and Duncan followed. Buzz chuckled. “I met my wife back in tenth grade, when the fellas bet me that if I asked a pretty senior named Marion Price to the prom, she’d say no.”

The tender tone in Buzz’s voice surprised Duncan, who’d only seen the political side of him until now. “So she said yes and the rest was history?”

“Nope. Lost the bet and had to shave my head. As the bristles grew in, they started to call me Buzz.” He shrugged. “Name stuck. After college, I tried again and this time got Marion.”

Duncan chuckled. Buzz had just proven he didn’t give up easily, a quality Duncan respected in others.

After several seconds of silence, Buzz looked at Duncan. “There’s another reporter at the paper. Cliff had assigned her this job. Not sure why Sophie showed up. Want me to talk to the editor?”

“No.” He liked seeing Sophie again after so many years. She hadn’t remembered him, but he’d changed a great deal from the pre-pubescent boy who hung out at the tackle shop. “I can handle her.”