Page 41 of Won't Back Down

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Page 41 of Won't Back Down

“Well, have a seat, and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.” He circled back around the desk, confirming my original suspicion about the placement of his chair. “Being a Sutter, you know how important Founders’ Day is to the locals on the island. Celebrating where we came from, all the things we’ve survived. Life on the Outer Banks is challenging, and this festival is a reminder of why we love it, why we stay. In the past, your grandparents have always held a prominent role in the festivities. As heir to their legacy, I knew you’d want to step into their shoes.”

‘Want’ was a strong word, but I was obligated, if not to him, then to the trust my grandparents had placed in me by leaving me everything. “What did you have in mind?”

He rattled on about the parade and the wreath laying at the tombs of our ancestors, recruiting me as judge for the assorted competitions of the day, and then he finally dropped it. “I was thinking it would be a terribly inspiring gesture if you sponsored the annual fireworks display.”

“Sponsor, as in pay for,” I clarified.

Miles spread his hands. “The town budget is strapped after the funds we’re putting into the Fourth of July, and of course, there’s no telling what repairs might be necessary in the wake of this hurricane. Fireworks would be such a sign of hope that even though we’ve lost your grandparents, things will go on.”

He wanted money. I’d assumed it would come down to that. I’d had one meeting with my grandparents’ accountant to get the broad strokes of what I’d be inheriting, but with the threat of my parents looming, I hadn’t done more than that. I hadn’t fully absorbed all the rules around the trust dedicated to funding things for the town, so it was possible such a thing could come out of that budget, but I was far more inclined to spend the money on something that would last and improve life on Hatterwick for everyone who lived here, not waste it on some meaningless display.

“Well, certainly I’ll take that under advisement as an idea, but I think it will probably have to wait until next year. The estate itself is still in probate, so I’m not going to have the flexibility to do that at this time. But I understand my role here.” That role being the controller of the purse strings. Miles believed he’d be able to manipulate me more easily than he had my grandfather. He’d have another think coming about that.

The mayor eased back in his chair, steepling his fingers like the villain in a bad TV movie. “Of course, I understand. Inheritance is so complicated, isn’t it? What are your plans for the estate, after everything is free and clear? You know there are multiple development opportunities available for forward thinkers such as yourself.”

Flattery will get you nowhere.

I would never understand how Gwen and this pretentious prick had come from the same parents. “I appreciate that, but I’m not interested. The maritime forest on Hatterwick is rare as an ecosystem. I intend to do whatever is necessary to protect it, including seeking designation as a formal wildlife sanctuary.” Of course, such a project was likely years off, but he didn’t need to know that.

Rendering the glib-tongued Miles Busby speechless was probably way more gratifying than it should have been. I knew the sanctuary wasn’t at all what he’d want for the island. He was all about development and tourist dollars and didn’t understand people who weren’t.

Having found out what I’d come for, I rose. “We’ll get out of your way. We’ve got hurricane prep to do, and I know you do as well.”

“Yes, right. Thank you for stopping by. I’ll be in touch about Founder’s Day meetings, once those are scheduled.”

“Sounds good.” As I turned toward the door, my gaze caught on a collection of photos atop the credenza. There were pictures of Miles with his wife and two kids, looking like an ad for a yacht club regatta. But there were also photos of him with his parents, including one of the entire Busby family before Gwen’s disappearance, tucked almost in the back. It reminded me that, no matter how much of a douchecanoe I found Miles, he’d suffered a tragedy, too.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever actually seen you alone since I came back to the island to offer my condolences on the loss of your sister. I know the continued lack of answers has to be incredibly hard for your family, and I just want you to know that I miss her every day, too.”

I’d made him speechless twice in the span of five minutes. I couldn’t interpret the expression that flickered over his face, but eventually he stammered, “Thank you,” in a rough voice.

We made our way downstairs and out to the sidewalk.

“Well, I guess that wasn’t as painful as it could have been,” Sawyer muttered. “That was nice, what you said to him about Gwen.”

“He’s full of himself, but you know there’s not a day that goes by he doesn’t wonder what happened to her.” The same was true of me, though I tried my best not to dwell on it. Pushing too hard about anything from that time never ended well for me.

Sawyer tugged out his keys. “We should get on to the market and pick up supplies before they sell out. It’s gonna be crazy today now that the alert’s gone out.”

“True enough.” It was time to look forward to the things I could change.

CHAPTER 20

SAWYER

The village was a madhouse. Tourists scrambled to make the ferry back to the mainland. Service would continue to run as long as it was deemed safe, usually about twenty-four hours after a hurricane warning got called. As I’d determined this morning, Willa and I were already well-stocked out at Sutter House, with hurricane panels for the windows, fuel for the generator, plenty of plastic sheeting, and sandbags. But we joined the throngs of other locals emptying the market’s shelves of bottled water and non-perishables, along with extra dog food for Roy. At the hardware store, we stocked up on batteries and duct tape. I rushed us through, feeling Willa’s tension ratchet up with all the people pressing too close in the aisles, their own varying degrees of panic fueling her anxiety.

“Let’s get home. We’ve got lots to do.” I’d never prepped a house as large as Sutter House for a hurricane before, and already a mile long list was spooling through my head.

As we loaded our purchases into the backseat of the truck, someone called our names.

“Sawyer! Willa! Just the couple I was looking for.” Mimi trotted across the parking lot.

I pulled her in for a hug. “Hey. You stocking up for the storm like everybody else?”

“Sure am.” She squeezed me tight, then opened her arms to Willa. “Hey, darlin’. It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too. Do you and Florence have everything you need to ride things out?”




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