Now the place was hallowed ground. She visited there every year on the anniversary of Henry’s death, his birthday or any other time she needed a tangible reminder of his life.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get inside.” The thick lump settled in her throat and tears burned in the back of her eyes.
Once inside the auditorium, she managed to get one of the last seats in the front row. On stage, members of the Northbridge Zoning Board had already taken their places behind a dais of two old rectangular fold-up tables with several microphones spaced along the tops.
She took a breath to relax. Attitude accounted for ninety-nine percent of any situation and regret over her backlash at the Tate brothers moments ago hit hard and fast. The wall clock showed three minutes before seven, so she used the time to scribble more questions for RGI on her notepad. A minute later, the group of protestors noisily filled the empty row behind her, where they’d left a few belongings to save their seats.
“How’d we sound out there?” Bernadette craned her neck to examine the crowded auditorium and slipped off her coat to reveal a white tee shirt with green letters spelling out S.O.L.E. printed across the bust line.
“Menacing. Only a fool would face you guys.”
Bernadette pointed with her chin to the back of the auditorium. “Speaking of fools, here they are now.”
A group of five men in suits had entered. Amongst town officials, she recognized the lawyer from Hartford representing RGI, who dressed fancier than the locals in his expensive-looking suit. She studied the two men to the attorney’s side and stifled a gasp. The pitter-patter of her heart picked up speed.
Bernadette tapped Sophie’s arm. “There’s the head fool himself. Duncan Jamieson, president of RGI.”
“Which one?”
“The hot tamale on the end, with wavy hair and wearing a navy suit.”
“Are you sure?”
A puzzled expression flitted across Bernadette’s face. “Absolutely. He came into the office two days ago to schmooze with one of the senior partners.”
Sophie’s mouth went as dry as dust. Bernadette had just identified Duncan Jamieson, head of RGI, as none other than Carter.
His presence begged for attention and separated him from the other men. Besides the expensive shine to his suit, assuredness permeated from every pore. He surveyed the crowd then leaned close and said something to his attorney, who nodded.
The group of men walked toward the stage. As he neared Sophie’s section, his gaze met hers then dropped to the press badge dangling from her neck. He looked at her again and blinked. She held her breath, as much afraid he’d remember her as he’d forgotten her. After a negligible pause, his lip curled into a smile of clear delight. Before she could react, he winked and sealed the acknowledgement.
Sophie’s pulse pounded in her ears as she neared code red. His cozy wink not only told others they’d met but dredged forth the lusty awareness of him which had consumed her body earlier. A sharp poke jabbed her back.
“What the hell was that?” Bernadette whispered. “Do you know him?”
“In a manner of speaking.” She refused to turn around.
Carter, a.k.a. Duncan Jamieson, took the steps up to the stage and sat behind the long table with the other men. That guy had played Sophie more smoothly than a winning hand of poker, but she wasn’t about to take his lies in silence.
Chapter 3
“Welcome to tonight’s public hearing. For those who don’t know me, I’m Northbridge First Selectman, Buzz Harris.” Buzz spoke close into the microphone and his rough voice made the speakers screech. “Since this is a zoning matter, our moderator tonight will be….”
Sophie’s anger drowned out his chatter. She clamped her jaw vise tight as she watched the man she now knew as Duncan Jamieson whispering into his lawyer’s ear.
She flinched when both men stopped talking and stared right at her. She glanced stage left to the dark curtains as her neck and ears went impossibly hot. Wait. She wasn’t the liar. She snapped her head in their direction, but they’d turned their attention on Buzz.
The second-term selectman gripped the sides of the podium, his brown suit jacket tightening around his stocky arms. He continued his opening statement in support of the resort project, the lines on his square face pulled more taut than usual. A sweep of his fingers through the thick gray hair near his temples, a habit of his whenever controversy was present, confirmed his discomfort.
Buzz continued his opening address. In his role as a full-fledged member of the local old boy’s network, he manipulated the boards under his reign with ease. Sophie kept a careful watch on politicians like him, just waiting for them to cross the fine line into genuine corruption. What kind of pull did he have with zoning on this matter?
As she scribbled down one of Buzz’s statements, she remembered her five dollar bet with Cliff. Would he consider “Reporter Wooed by Nemesis” an adequate win?
Buzz introduced Duncan Jamieson. The handsome executive strode to the podium with the self-assurance of a king. He leaned with his elbows on the walnut top, fingers steepled together while he surveyed the crowd. His gaze lingered over her longer than the others. This time, she didn’t look away and tried out her best death glare.
He cleared his throat and scanned the room. “First, I’m happy the hearing is so well attended. One thing is clear. The residents of this community care about its well-being.” His arms opened wide, a gesture that would’ve made Dale Carnegie proud. “The vision RGI holds is for our resort to become a part of the lake’s history and to honor the people who live here by our contribution to the area.”
The confidence Duncan had exhibited when taking over Sophie’s boat problem was magnified in his formal presentation. He addressed Board members with familiarity, as if he’d known them forever, and discussed the town with the authority of a newly anointed mayor.
Bernadette’s dated auditorium chair squeaked. Her breath gushed next to Sophie’s ear. “Jeesh, you’d think this guy was the new grand pooh-bah.”
Sophie turned sideways. “Confidence isn’t one of his problems.”
Bernadette raised a questioning brow.
“Later.”
“RGI is committed to working collaboratively with all parties.” Duncan put on a contemplative frown. “Especially those who have concerns. We hope to have a partnership with S.O.L.E. because my firm cares about the environment as much as the rest of you.”
Bernadette exhaled, so loud Duncan’s head jerked in their direction. Her seat squeaked again and she whispered in Sophie’s ear. “I’ll bet he thinks he’ll finish and waltz out of here tonight without a single question. Guess he doesn’t know how things work in Northbridge.”
Sophie nodded. Their small New England form of government was called a town meeting format. The residents were seasoned pros at public forums, where local decisions were often made. Public hearings were their idea of a fun night out. Bernadette liked to brag she could recite Robert’s
