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But I see it.
And Hope’s not going to be the next sad story.
Not if I can help it.
For the first time, I’m not running away from a problem. I’m running headfirst to fix it.
33
HOPE
The bicentennial organized behind the high school is exactly as I imagined it. Balloons and streamers in Kingsette High’s green and gold decorate the trees on the perimeter of the field. People mill about, red Solo cups in hand, while their children run wild, shrieking with laughter, throwing loose popcorn to the birds swooping down to eat. A raging, ill-advised bonfire crackles and snaps against the sky, carving rivers of heat across the field. Combined with the drought and the brooding sense of discontent in Kingsette, the air feels stifling.
The town has always felt like a tinderbox, one errant flame away from disaster.
Tonight, for reasons I can’t pin down, it feels as though the flame’s been lit.
For the hundredth time, I check my phone. Will hasn’t texted since he told me he has a surprise for me. I don’t know whether it’s the idea of a surprise or his sudden silence that’s making me feel restless.
“Hope! You’re here.” Annette Martina saunters up to me. Her teased blonde hair is styled to just barely hide everything her low-cut shirt is revealing.
“Hi, Annette. Great job on the bicentennial. Everyone is having a great time.”
“Oh, I don’t put in all this time and hard work for the thank-you. I just like to know my community is taken care of.” She glances at Sheriff Wilson, who is standing at the perimeter of the field, speaking into a two-way radio, and frowns. “I don’t turn my back on community.”
“Of course. So gracious of you.” I flash her a closed-lip smile. After what she’s done to Will and the Inn, it’s an effort just to share space with her. “I should find Tessa and the girls.”
“Speaking of the community, have you heard the news about Maeve?”
“No, but I’d rather not—”
“Apparently she’s got a criminal record—no surprise there—and a trail of other suspicious activity. There was awful business with a politician’s wife, and I heard—” Annette pauses, her eyes gleaming with something resembling malice. “Will didn’t tell you any of this? He’s the one who hired the private investigator to look into Maeve.”
“Will?”
Annette’s eyebrows perk up. If she didn’t know that Will and I slept together, then she does now. “Who knew he’d be this story’s hero, right?”
“He wouldn’t—he told you?”
Annette places a hand on my shoulder. “He must have wanted to protect you, but fret not. I’m already taking care of it. The first meeting of the Keep Kingsette Safe committee is tonight, in fact. Our first order of business will be to get that cottage condemned.”
The rising tide of hurt pauses just long enough for the rest of Annette’s words. “Maeve’s cottage?”
“Yes. Once it’s condemned, we expect she’ll leave. I can’t imagine anyone in town will rent to her.”
No one will rent to her because Annette won’t let them. Like she tried to stop people from working at the Inn.
“You can’t do that.”
Two little girls run past us. A pair of crows flutters behind them, scavenging the popcorn they leave in their wake.
“Oh, dear, Hope. I see that I’ve upset you. I know this must be hard for you. You’re such a trusting thing.” She pats my forearm. “Oh, speak of the devil.”
“Annette,” Will says, looking between us as if I’m the one who’s been accused of spreading rumors. “You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you.”
“Hi, Will. I’m glad you could make it. Yes, I’m feeling much better, thank you for asking. And I was just telling Hope what your private investigator discovered about Maeve. Awful business. Really awful.”
Behind us, the crows caw at a man shooing them away.
