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I glanced around, but nobody was within earshot. “Do you know if it’s true Axel Everett grew up around here?”
She straightened her shoulders ever so slightly. “You know, I think he lived in Burkette, just south of here, for a few years. Maybe in like junior high or something?”
I fiddled with the contents of the condiment caddy, not meeting her eyes. This town was getting to me because even thinking about asking my next question made me a little ill. “Have you heard any rumors about him and his family having a vacation property here?”
“Our town is full of rumors, but that’s not one I’ve heard.”
My shoulders slumped.
“I’ll tell you what, you look like you could use a piece of pie after you finish your sandwich. On the house.”
I hated to admit it, but the blueberry cobbler in the dessert case had been calling my name.
Twenty minutes later, I reached the bottom of the best cup of coffee I’d had since I stalked Scott Disick through Brazil. I nibbled on a piece of cobbler while I contemplated what I was going to do. Unless Axel Everett wandered into this coffee shop and plopped himself down at my table, I wasn’t going to find him. This town made sure of it.
Maybe that could be my angle. Eirin often liked us to hint at things without coming right out and saying them to avoid legal culpability. Highlighting how conspicuously tight-lipped the town was about him—especially considering he grew up not too far away, and usually small towns like this liked to brag about famous people that came from their area—could be enough to make the case he probably did have a vacation home here and they were protecting him.
That wasn’t going to get Eirin the GPS coordinates she wanted though.
My phone lit up with a call from Kobie. We were supposed to meet in half an hour.
“I have a festival emergency, and I’m going to have to cancel. I’m so sorry, Sadie.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No.” She sighed. “Brian Shelton broke his ankle in a freak accident.”
“That’s awful… Who is that?”
“This year’s Valor King. There’s no way I’ll be able to find a suitable replacement before the festival. The committee argued about it for three weeks before they even agreed to naming him.”
“What happened?”
“He fell down rolling out his recycling container and somehow managed to break both his ankle and his elbow.”
“Oh…wow. You said the Valor King was nominated thanks to an exceptional act of heroism or service they’ve done for the community. What was Brian Shelton’s act?” I didn’t want to insult her part in the festival by asking what kind of Valor King managed to practically kill himself while taking out the recycling.
“He found a discrepancy in the way the city’s water meters were calculating, and reported it to the utilities commission,” she said. “It was slim pickings this year. He was the best we could do, and that was with plenty of notice. We’re going to be completely screwed.”
I should stay focused on hunting down the Everetts, but there was no stopping where my brain went. To him. “I’ve got a question for you, and you can answer me without giving me specifics, but hear me out, okay?”
“Okay…”
“Does the act of service or heroism have to be something that happened in the past year?”
“No. It can be from any time as long as they haven’t already been Valor King before. Why?”
“The way Drew lost his leg—and you don’t have to tell me what it is,” I rushed out. “Was it doing something heroic?”
Kobie was silent for a few beats. “Yes, but this is a bad idea. The last time we asked him, it didn’t go well, and that’s part of the reason we don’t talk about it anymore. He’s avoided the festival ever since.”
So I had my work cut out for me, and this might be a terrible idea, but my brain was already latched onto it. Maybe it was irrational and none of my business, but I had this deep-seated need to prove to both Drew and this town that he could do this. That he was strong. Capable. He wasn’t someone who needed to hide in the shadows, only to be whispered about. “Let me float the idea by him. The worst thing that can happen is he says no, right?
“I don’t know…”
“You start looking for other candidates. If you find someone, let me know and I won’t even bring it up to him. In the meantime, I’ll slide it into the conversation if I get the chance. Hint that he could help us out. Test the waters.”
“It’s your funeral. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
