Stop to agree. We’ll have one more town meeting and then the city council makes a recommendation and the citizens vote. If it weren’t for our mayor, I’d say we’d have a really good chance.”
At least now Vince knew what, or rather, who, was priority number one. “Leave the mayor to me.”
Arnie chuckled. “I plan to.”
Before Vince had a chance to ask Arnie more about the mayor they reached his car.
“Is this fancy rig yours?” Arnie stopped and bathed Vince’s black Porsche in the beam of his flashlight. “You’ll need four-wheel drive come November.”
“Not very practical for up here, is it?” Vince allowed, not that he planned to drive anything else but the sleek bullet. Venture capitalists had to look successful. Appearances were everything. “Can you give me directions to the nearest hotel?” It was best to get that business over with early so he could focus on the mayor. He would check in and then head over to Jill’s.
“There are no hotels in Railroad Stop. You could drive about forty-five minutes down the mountain to Mokelumne Hill, but there’s a storm brewing and it’s going to get nasty.” Arnie paused, watching Vince carefully as he said, “You should probably just head on over to Shady Oak. Jill bought the place from Edda Mae last spring. She’s got enough beds to spare, I’m guessing.”
Vince’s thumb paused on the car remote. “I thought you said there were no hotels in town.”
“Jill doesn’t run a hotel. She turned the Shady Oak from a kids’ camp into a fancy corporate retreat. Thought you’d know that, seeing as how you two are married.” Arnie’s gaze was speculative in the gloom.
What else didn’t Vince know about his wife? Maybe it was time to update her background check.
When Vince remained silent, Arnie cleared his throat. “You want me to tell you how to get to Shady Oak? That land we put into federal trust for the casino is in the valley below her place.”
Vince almost refused the offer of directions. And then he remembered that Railroad Stop didn’t register on his GPS.
CHAPTER TWO
“HOW’S THIS?” Teddy asked, rocking back on his heels to survey his work, a paintbrush in each hand. He had an artistic bent and instead of choosing a plain color for the background of the signs Jill planned to post against the casino, her son had created psychedelic bursts with the purple and green paint left over from the last time they’d decorated his room.
“Brilliant,” Jill said. “Just a few more and we’ll call it a night.”
They worked on the uphill side of Shady Oak’s garage underneath a floodlight. Jill had been cutting plywood into two-foot-by-three-foot pieces with a cordless skill saw while Teddy worked his magic. The eye-catching swirls of color would contrast perfectly with the important message Jill planned to spray-paint with stenciled block letters in red—NO CASINO!
She returned her saw to its case and then propped up the last two boards against the garage wall, taking another look at Teddy’s artwork, while her mind wandered. She, the daughter of casino owners, was opposing a casino. Jill could picture the worried look in her mother’s eyes, her father’s disapproving frown, and Vince’s face…
For years she’d recalled Vince’s youthful features fondly, but those images had been shattered tonight by a strong jaw, a suit he hadn’t bought off the rack, and his corporate stance. Once she’d recovered from the shock of his arrival, it had been easy to see through his words, to see that he’d become one of them—someone like her parents and his grandfather. Vince planned to milk the heart out of Railroad Stop, turning it into a miniature Vegas.
When Jill left Las Vegas eleven years ago, she’d wanted to find a place where she could feel safe, where she could take people at their word. On a sweltering Saturday, less than a week later, she’d gotten a flat tire in Railroad Stop. Edda Mae had taken one look at Jill, wilting while she waited for her car, and herded her into Bernie’s Burger Joint. In no time the older woman had pried the pertinent facts out of Jill, told her a story about one of her Native American ancestors and convinced Jill that running away never solved anything. Jill had gone to work for Edda Mae at Shady Oak the next day.
Edda Mae was the mother figure Jill had always longed for, and for the most part, Railroad Stop embraced Jill. After Teddy was born she stayed on, unable to curb her overactive imagination when it came to Shady Oak. Jill was still her parents’ daughter and the hospitality industry was in her blood. Where others might have seen a hopeless money pit, Jill had envisioned charming success. When Edda Mae was ready to retire, Jill took out an exorbitantly scary loan cosigned by her parents and employee became employer.
“So.” Teddy crouched over one of the last two boards and began creating a curvy purple road. He was a gangly kid, all knobby elbows and knees, an aficionado of bad jokes, but he was her pride and joy. “Who is he?”
“Who?” Jill tried to play dumb.
“The man from the meeting. Is he your cousin?”
“No.”
“Your brother?”
“No.” Jill half carried, half dragged one of the old wooden sawhorses back into the storage shed.
Teddy was into the lime-green paint when she returned, tracing a curvy line with the color. “Why does he have our last name?”
“All right, all right. I’ll tell you.” Wiping her hands on the seat of her jeans, Jill drew a dramatic breath. “He’s Batman and he’s taken on an alias so that he can continue fighting injustice to protect the innocent.” Although Jill didn’t let Teddy watch much television, she’d broken down and joined a mail-order video-rental service a few weekends before, introducing Teddy to the crime fighter.
“Mo-om.” Teddy stopped painting. He had a way of looking at Jill that said, Cut the BS. “I’m ten, not two.”
“It’s complicated.” Jill poked the ground with one toe. They’d talked about Jill’s separate-but-married status, but lately Teddy had wanted to know more about his father, the man he assumed Jill had married. She didn’t want to tell Teddy he was a rape-conceived child—he was too young to carry that baggage—so she’d resorted to jokes and topic changes.
Something stirred delicately near a leaf by Jill’s foot—a spider. “Eeeeeiiii!!” She leaped a yard away, stumbling backward up the slope. Just the thought of eight spindly legs creeping across her skin gave her the willies.
Teddy dutifully came over with a rolled-up newspaper. “It’s just a baby.” He scooped it up and took it behind the shed.
“Baby?” It was the size of a fifty-cent piece. “I wish you’d kill it.”
“Spiders are good bugs, remember?” Teddy’s voice was muffled. He galloped back waving the newspaper. “All gone.”
Jill shivered. “He’ll be back.”
Edda Mae appeared at the corner of the garage. “I buzzed that casino man in the front gate.”
That was what Jill got for trying to cut costs. The main gate was a quarter mile down the hill. Its intercom rang to Edda Mae’s
