Page 87 of Won't Back Down
“Guy with his background wouldn’t have talked, even if he was still around. I’ll keep digging, try to find out if he had some connection to the island.”
“Dax is already looking, so maybe touch base with him, if you can.”
“I’ll do that. In the meantime, stick close to Willa. We don’t know who the threat is, and I don’t think she needs to be alone right now.”
“Understood. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to protect her.”
“Thank you. And stay safe, brother.”
“You, too.”
I didn’t give a good damn what festivities Miles had roped her into. I wanted to get her home.
On my way out of the kitchen, I snagged Bree. “I’m going to find Willa.”
“Everything okay?”
“I don’t know that it’s not.” In quick, quiet tones, I gave her the update. “I’m going to find her. Keep an eye out, would you? And loop in Gabi and Daniel if you see them. I’ll try to text them, but the network isn’t handling all these extra people well.”
“Of course.”
I paused just long enough to send the group a message, only to have it bounce back. Looked like, for now, I was on my own.
Stepping out of the bar, I wove my way to the marina, already formulating a reason for security to let me past the barricade. But when I got there, the barricades were gone, and so were the founding family committee members. Where the hell were they?
“Are you looking for your sweet bride?”
I turned toward the voice to find Marsha McCubbins, the town librarian. “Yes, ma’am. I was trying to catch her before the regatta was over. Do you know where she’s gotten to?”
“Oh, you missed the end. Stevie Clapham squeaked out a win over Kelvin Armstrong, and he was fit to be tied, I tell you. Anyway, the mayor and the others have gone out to the cemetery for the ceremonial wreath laying.”
Damn. I’d missed her. They’d be driven out to the cemetery on the outskirts of town. There was far less pomp and circumstance around the honoring of the actual ancestors who’d founded Hatterwick. Most folks weren’t too keen on being present for the laying of the wreaths at those crypts.
I turned toward the north, as if that would somehow grant me x-ray vision to see through the wall-to-wall bodies. I was more than a mile from where we’d had to park, and given the crowds, it would take me longer to get out there and back than it would to simply wait for her to make it to the staging area for the parade. No matter how much I disliked it, tactically, it made more sense to sit tight.
“Thanks, Mrs. McCubbins. Do you know where they’re organizing before the parade?”
As she gave me directions, I forced myself to stay calm.
Nothing had actually changed, other than having my suspicions confirmed.
It would be fine.
CHAPTER 39
WILLA
After the jubilant chaos of the regatta, the relative silence of the Sutter’s Ferry cemetery was a welcome reprieve. This late in the day, I could feel the beta blocker starting to wear off, and I regretted not listening to Gabi and keeping a second dose on me, just in case. Exhaustion dragged at me, and I wondered how I was going to get through the parade and the float judging after. I just had to ride on the founders’ float and wave a little. I could probably do that without issue. Then maybe I could come up with an excuse to skip the judging. I wouldn’t have to fake not feeling well. A low-grade headache was sinking its claws into the base of my skull. I barely heard the commemorative words offered up by the head of the historical society.
Someone edged closer and murmured, “Are you okay?”
I glanced up to find Roland watching me with concern. I hadn’t realized he’d joined the delegation for this part of proceedings, but it didn’t surprise me. Despite not being from one of the founding families, he’d always taken an active role in the community. It was a big part of why Granddaddy had hired him.
“Just a headache. Today has been a lot,” I whispered.
“Yeah, Miles is good at that,” he muttered, tugging at his tie. He’d put on a suit jacket for the ceremony, and I was impressed with his dedication to formality. It was too damned hot for that many layers.
I held in a snort of laughter and turned my attention back to the proceedings as each of us representing a founding family walked to our ancestral crypt to leave a wreath. Because our forebears had come from the sea and been sustained by it, each one was created from elements that honored that tradition. Mine was made of a large curve of driftwood, twined with magnolia leaves and Queen Anne’s lace, accented with seashells and starfish. At the base was a bow using the same shades of ivory and navy as the ferry company that had kept the island going all these years. I held onto it and waited my turn as the last of the founding families. Some of my compatriots made remarks. I elected to take a moment of silence as I stepped up to the marble tomb and gently laid the wreath in the designated holder.