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Mateo kept his mouth shut. He knew a leading statement when he heard one. God knew what Hawson’s angle was, but he definitely had one. The man was all about greasing wheels to get his way. Still, he was technically Mateo’s boss, since the police chief served at the mayor’s prerogative. If the mayor went to the town council asking for his ass on a platter, both cheeks would be delivered within the hour.
“You know no good will come of anything connected to the Sweets—especially Olivia.” The mayor practically spit out her name in disgust. “She’s not our kind of people. She’s all flash and no substance. You and I both know she’s not putting on this fundraiser for the good of Salvation’s veterans. Imagine going from being famous one day to slinging beer the next. She’s going to do whatever it takes to get back in that limelight. I figure a story about a supermodel turned small-town philanthropist would get a lot of eyeballs.”
“That’s a lot of supposition on your part.”
“No, it’s a lot of knowledge and expertise. I’ve been mayor for long enough to know the Sweets inside and out. The whole family is a wreck. Look, we’re both Marines. We know what it’s like to have a non-hacker in the ranks. The only way to form a cohesive unit is to weed that sucker out. Olivia Sweet is a non-hacker and Salvation is your unit.”
Mateo raised his gaze to the photo on the wall above Hawson’s left shoulder. It showed his fire team the day before the bombing. Luciana had hung it. He kept meaning to take it down but…
The Sweets were trouble and Olivia wasn’t an exception. The town of Salvation, on the other hand, had supported his parents and his sister while he was gone and when he’d had an extended stay at the VA hospital in Richmond. When he’d first come home, there were stilted visits and too cheerful greetings. Those had thankfully stalled out. Now they just left him alone to do his job as police chief. And he liked it that way just fine. They stayed away and he kept them safe. No involvement. No soft spots. No veering from standard operating procedure. He gave the photo one last hard look.
Olivia had been so damned excited as she’d tried to drag him into some sort of fundraiser brainstorming hell at The Kitchen Sink yesterday it had taken everything he had not to join in—something he sure as hell didn’t do anymore. “I really don’t see the harm in her trying.”
“Don’t see the harm? Don’t you remember the fallout from that so-called coming home documentary she did a few years ago?”
Mateo suppressed his laugh—barely. Hawson had been caught singing to his horse. The video had gone viral and still got airtime occasionally today. The internet never forgets.
“And I’m not just talking about me here. Salvation was the butt of jokes on national TV. People called us the hick’s version of heaven. You know the people here. It hurt folks to see their town humiliated. You can’t let that happen again.”
“And how exactly do you propose I stop that?”
“Keep tabs on her and let me know what she’s up to. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Spy?” That left a dank taste in his mouth.
“That’s an ugly word, but yes.” Hawson shrugged. “You run the intelligence operation. I’ll take care of erecting roadblocks.”
“And the veterans’ center?” He wasn’t about to screw over his brothers. He wouldn’t fail them again.
“I’ll find the money. The county doesn’t have two plug nickels to rub together, but the city has an emergency fund. I can get the town council to agree to make repairs—maybe even rebuild.”
That was probably a better deal than any imaginary money Olivia could raise in a fundraiser. Still, he couldn’t get onboard with the idea. “I’ll think about it.”
“What’s there to think about? It’s either the town you’ve sworn to protect or Olivia Sweet. Where are your priorities? Where is your loyalty?”
Not with the Sweets. “Right where it belongs.” In Salvation.
“Then I can count on you?”
Fuck. If he passed the deal up, he didn’t doubt the mayor would hold a grudge no matter how it negatively affected the area’s veterans. The little man didn’t give a shit about anything except his own power.
“Well, Garcia? Are you in?”
He nodded. “Affirmative.”
The mayor stood and reached out his hand. Mateo shook it as briefly as possible. Hawson didn’t seem to notice or care. “Good to know that once a Marine, always a Marine still stands. I’ll grab that donut and get out of your hair.”
As soon as the door clicked shut behind Hawson, the dog relaxed against Mateo’s chair. The vibrations from its thick tail thumping against it reverberated up his spine. Without thinking about it, he reached down and scratched the mutt’s thick scruff.
“Yeah, I like it best when he leaves too.”
The intercom buzzed before Simons’s voice sounded. “Hey Chief, don’t forget you’ve got that meeting with Olivia Sweet at the veterans’ center in a few.”
Of course he did, because his days just kept getting better and better since the model he couldn’t stop picturing naked had jumped off a magazine cover and onto Salvation’s Main Street.
Twenty minutes early for her meeting with Mateo at the county’s wrecked veterans’ center, Olivia parked her still mud-caked Fiat in front of the building. She didn’t have a plan, but she had a goal and that’s all that mattered. Exactly how she’d get Mateo on her side she wasn’t sure of yet, but she’d figure out. She always did.
She shielded her eyes against the morning sun and squinted up at the veterans’ center. A bright-blue tarp covered most of the gaping hole in the roof, with one corner flapping in the warm spring breeze. Otherwise the rest of the building looks unharmed, if not older than the dirt that made up the sorry excuse for a lawn in front of the squat one-story building.
