Please Don't Feed the Mayor Read online

  CHAPTER 19

  Bryce had gotten a late start that morning. Not only had the “secure facility” Glen Wheatley promised him turned out to be a cheap room across the street from a rave club, but Sofia had insisted he drop by the office and help her with a problem that any admin could have easily taken care of. With only one day until Fossett’s election, he knew that Melanie would be scrambling to get ready, and being held back by meaningless requests from a petulant senior attorney was infuriating. By the time he pulled out of the garage at Norcross Daniels, he was ready to leave and never come back.

  He wondered how Melanie was doing. With luck, the volunteers had finished canvassing yesterday, which would leave only administrative details like getting voting booths set up and ballots checked and sorted left to do. In spite of his initial skepticism, Bryce had gotten caught up in the whole “Mayor Shep” idea, and though he had real misgivings about Melanie’s plans beyond that, he did think that the gimmick itself could be useful.

  Bryce had been thinking a lot the last two days about the time he’d spent in Fossett. The town had changed a lot in the last four years. Back then, it still had the rough-and-tumble feel of a timber town with little to offer beyond a dwindling number of good-paying jobs, and the thought of trying to raise a family there had been so appalling that Bryce simply couldn’t believe that Melanie wanted to move back. But things were different now, and although it was true that the town was in a more precarious position, economically, than it had been, the things that could make it an attractive place to live were obvious. In many ways, in fact, it had become more like a place he’d want to settle down than where he was now. The challenge would be how to keep what was good about the town while reversing its economic decline.

  If he were to move, there’d be challenges, of course. Fossett was too small to support a full-time attorney, but there were other small towns in the area that might make up the difference, and the DA’s office in Corvallis might be happy to have him. The only question was, did Melanie really want him back?

  As he drove, he’d been checking his rearview mirror periodically to make sure he wasn’t being followed. The Honda had seemed like the perfect cover while he was in town, but there was always a chance that Colton had spotted him either going into work or leaving. But as the miles passed with no sign of anything suspicious around him, he started to feel the tension drop away, and by the time he passed Salem, Bryce figured he was home free.

  He took the turnoff for Fossett, grinning like a kid on holiday. Not only would he be seeing Melanie again, but for a few precious hours he’d be free of the gnawing fear that had haunted him every second he’d been in Portland. As he pulled onto Main Street and headed for Ground Central, it felt almost like coming home. He couldn’t wait to see Melanie and catch up on everything that had happened while he was away.

  The first hint that something was wrong was the black Hummer parked in front of Melanie’s shop. The tailgate was open and a large man in a T-shirt and jeans was taking out something that looked like a microphone stand. As Bryce pulled in at the curb, the man stepped away from the Hummer and dropped a coil of audio cable into a duffel bag on the ground. The logo on the front of the man’s shirt said: INNOVATIVE MEDIA SOLUTIONS.

  He felt a frisson of anxiety. Melanie hadn’t mentioned anything about this last night.

  The second sign that all was not well was the campaign poster in the front window. Bryce pressed his lips together. He thought that Melanie had understood the need to keep Shep’s campaign and her workplace separate. Was this just something an overeager volunteer had put up by accident, or had it been done deliberately? And if so, what had happened to change her mind? Then he got out of the car and saw a CLOSED sign on the front door. Whatever this was, Bryce thought, it definitely wasn’t good.

  The front door wasn’t locked. Bryce walked inside and saw Melanie standing at the counter talking to a slim blond man who looked as if he’d just stepped off the pages of GQ. In spite of the wintry weather, he was wearing a polo shirt, its collar upturned, summer-weight slacks, and a turquoise sweater that was draped over his shoulders in a way that set off his summer-worthy tan. Considering that it was barely above freezing outside, Bryce thought the outfit looked ridiculous. As Bryce came closer, the two of them stopped talking and turned toward him. The man regarded him with amused curiosity.

  “Why don’t you finish your tea, Chad?” she said. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Melanie motioned for Bryce to follow her across the room.

  “What’s going on?” he hissed. “Who is that guy?”

  She turned and gave him a pert look.

  “That ‘guy’ happens to be Chad Chapman. He’s the reporter who did the piece about the cat in England.”

  Bryce glanced at the fop sipping tea at the counter. He had the sort of too-perfect features that translated well to the small screen but seemed almost freakish in real life.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “He called and said he’d like to do a story about the election.” She gave him a tight smile. “I thought it was a good idea.”

  Bryce ran a hand through his hair, feeling bewildered. When he’d spoken to her last night, it seemed as if Melanie couldn’t wait for him to return. Now it was like she didn’t even want him there. Why the sudden change?

  “I thought we agreed not to accept any unsolicited offers from unknown sources.”

  “He’s not ‘unknown,’” she said, making air quotes to emphasize the point. “I told you, I saw him on the television.”

  The look he gave her was deeply skeptical. Melanie was not usually so gullible.

  “So, he just called you out of the blue with an offer of free publicity, is that it?”

  Melanie’s smile faltered.

  “Well, yes.”

  “And that didn’t strike you as odd? I mean, Fossett is pretty small potatoes. I find it hard to believe that a legitimate reporter would want to come all the way out here unless he had some ulterior motive.”

  “Why?” she said. “Because your friend Dave wouldn’t do it?”

  The comment landed like a punch to the gut. Bryce grimaced.

  “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you when I got here, but when I saw all of this”—he made a gesture encompassing Chad, the man in the Hummer, and the pile of equipment on the floor—“it slipped my mind.”

  Melanie gave him a contemptuous look.

  “Oh, so you were going to tell me, just not now?” She laughed. “Boy, does that sound familiar.”

  “Look, I said I was going to tell you. I just got thrown off by all this . . . stuff.”

  “Well, pardon me if I don’t believe you. You see, I thought we had an agreement, and then last night when I called Dave, I found out that you’d already broken it.”

  Her face flushed as her lower lip began to tremble.

  “I can’t even tell you how embarrassed I was. The guy acted like I was some publicity-seeking weirdo.”

  Bryce shook his head. Dave always sounded like that on the phone. The guy had probably been in the middle of something when she called.

  “I seriously doubt that’s what he thought, but if he did, it was my fault. I’d only just called him the day before.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me instead of letting me make a fool of myself?”

  She glanced at Chad, who looked as if he was absorbing every word.

  “I don’t want to talk about this here.”

  Bryce felt his temper flare. He was already operating on very little sleep and the whole reason he’d had to rush down there that morning was so he could help her out. Having Melanie try to turn this around and make it his fault was galling. He turned and gave Chad a friendly little wave.

  “Any chance you could give us a minute here?”

  “Bryce,” Melanie hissed. “Stop it.”

  “No,” Chad said breezily. “It’s fine.”

  He grabbed a parka that was hanging by the door.

&nb
sp; “Think nothing of it. I’ll be in the Hummer whenever you’re ready.”

  Bryce waited for the door to close before turning back toward Melanie.

  “First of all,” he said. “I already told you that I’d take care of it, so technically it wasn’t your job to be calling Dave. I also think you’re blowing this way out of proportion. Yes, it might have been better if I’d told you when we talked last night, but I’d just stepped out of a hospital room where a friend’s life is hanging by a thread and it was a little hard to think when it could just as easily have been me lying there. So, I’m sorry if you were embarrassed, but that really isn’t my fault.”

  Melanie folded her arms and stared him down.

  “That still doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me—again.”

  Bryce threw his hands in the air and turned away. What the hell was wrong with her? Had she not heard a single thing he said? He’d spent the better part of the last two days itching to get back to Fossett, ready to start on the life it seemed the two of them were ready to build together, and instead he’d found himself overruled and unjustly accused of violating an agreement he found ridiculous on its face.

  “Fine,” he said, turning back. “You want honesty? Here’s some honesty for you. This whole plan you’ve got for ‘saving’ Fossett by returning it to its glory days is a big, fat mistake.”

  Melanie drew back, her mouth open. She couldn’t have looked more startled if he’d slapped her face.

  But Bryce hadn’t finished.

  “You can make Shep the mayor, if you want, but it’s never going to fix what’s wrong around here.”

  As the initial shock wore off, she clenched her jaw, glaring at him defiantly.

  “And what makes you an expert all of a sudden? Don’t forget, this is my hometown. I came back because someone needed to save it and I was the only one willing to do it.”

  “Are you sure? Because I look around here and I don’t see a lot of people looking to be saved, Mel. I see people who are doing pretty well.”

  Her laugh was explosive.

  “Doing well? Oh, my god, did you not see those kids playing in the streets? You think they’re doing well?”

  “Playing in the streets isn’t the same as living in them. They have homes and parents who love them.”

  “They live in hovels.”

  “Which is more than they’ll be living in if you insist on filling this place with people whose only interest is cheap labor and cheaper land. You know what the Leaky Faucet Saloon was when timber was booming? A place where men spent their paychecks on liquor and gambling before they went home and beat their wives.”

  She waved her hands as if fending him off.

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “A little, maybe, but not much, and people certainly didn’t take their kids in there for dinner like they do now. This grand scheme you have to turn back the clock might just snuff out the tiny spark that’s trying to catch fire here. I really think you need to consider what you’re doing before you continue down this path.”

  “Of course I’ve considered it,” she said. “I’ve been considering it for four years. You act as if I just woke up yesterday and thought, ‘Gee, maybe I should do something.’”

  “That’s not what I mean. I know you’ve been working on this. I can see the changes you’ve made, but they haven’t made a difference, have they?”

  She shook her head.

  “No.”

  “Well, have you ever asked yourself why?”

  Her eyes glistened.

  “Because it’s hard to change. Because the people who were left behind need someone to lead them.”

  Bryce pointed at her.

  “You see there? That’s the difference between you and me, Mel. You look around and see people who want someone to tell them what to do. I see people with talent and skill who just need someone to show them how they can make a living doing it. This is a new economy, Melanie. You’ve got everything you need to help Fossett become an incubator for what could be several small businesses. Don’t destroy it by trying to return to the good old days.”

  “How dare you accuse me of that? Everything I’ve done is for them.”

  “Is it? Or have you been doing it for yourself?”

  Melanie’s face was red.

  “Myself? You think giving up everything and moving back here was easy? You think working long hours without a break, without any help or even a vacation, is selfish?”

  “I think you like being a martyr. I think you like having people do what you want and it really doesn’t matter to you if they do it because it’s what they want or because they feel sorry for you or because it’s just easier to go along with you than to swim against the tide.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “You ever wonder why you don’t like Rod Blakely?”

  “Why should I? The guy’s an ass.”

  She turned to walk away and Bryce stepped in front of her.

  “No, you don’t get to leave it at that. I’m serious, Mel. Have you ever given a serious thought as to what it is, exactly, that you don’t like about the man?”

  “You said it yourself: He argues with everyone. All the time about everything. I’m not the only one in town who doesn’t care for him, either, so don’t try and single me out like I’m making things up.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. And yet who was it who insisted that you hold an election instead of just making Shep the mayor?”

  “He did; I told you that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he said it wasn’t fair not to.” Melanie huffed in exasperation. “I told you all this before.”

  Bryce leaned forward, willing her to see the point he was trying to make.

  “Yes, but why did you agree to do it? You’ve already said you didn’t want to, that doing something quickly was important. I even told you it’d be easier to just to make Shep the honorary mayor and forget about holding an election.”

  “So?”

  “So, the question is: Why did you agree to put it to a vote?”

  “I told you. Because Rod said it wasn’t fair.”

  “No! It was because everyone else agreed with him, Mel. Can’t you see? Rod Blakely stood up to you and there was nothing you could do because for once you couldn’t railroad everyone into doing what you wanted. And that’s why he gets under your skin. Because while everyone else just goes along, smiling and agreeing to whatever little scheme you come up with, Rod Blakely is the only one who dares to challenge you. That’s why you don’t like him.”

  Melanie stood there sullenly, looking like a teenager who’d just been grounded.

  “Are you finished?”

  Bryce deflated. It felt as if everything he’d been holding inside since the divorce had suddenly come bubbling up, leaving him hollowed out inside. For a moment, he’d thought it would help, thought she might even try to understand what he was telling her, even if she didn’t agree, but he could see now that it had all been for nothing. He’d taken his best shot and missed.

  “Yeah. I am.”

  He reached into his pocket and handed her the keys to the Honda.

  “Thanks for the loaner. I can walk to Pete’s from here.”

  CHAPTER 20

  For several minutes, Melanie was too stunned to cry. How could Bryce have said those things to her? What did he know about the sacrifices she’d made? Where had he been when she was spending long days at the shop and long nights with Walt and the other town leaders brainstorming ways to pull Fossett back from the brink? Bryce had spent only four days there and suddenly he thought he knew the answer that had eluded her for four years? How dare he?

  And yet she couldn’t deny that he’d posed some uncomfortable questions. Why hadn’t the things they’d done to revive the town been working? She’d been sure that every improvement the town made had been mutually agreed upon, too, but when she thought about it, Melanie realized there hadn’t been a single one that wasn’t her suggestion. Was i
t really possible that she was the only person in town with good ideas, or had everyone else been too cowed by her force of will to propose something of their own? The thought that she might have been browbeating her friends and neighbors all these years was sobering.

  And there was something else, too. Something she’d been trying to hide from herself all morning. Shep wasn’t enjoying working on this video. He’d been his usual hammy self the day before, fetching toys and doing tricks, but when Chad insisted he stay inside and not dirty his coat, the border collie had started to rebel. They were just small things, at first. He’d picked up the wrong toy a couple of times that morning, and once when Chad wanted him to paw the air on cue he’d rolled over instead, but Melanie told herself that Shep had probably just misunderstood the command. For the last hour, though, the mistakes had been more serious and she’d begun to suspect they were actually being done deliberately.

  But what could she do now? Chad and Mick were almost through. Surely, her dog could hold out a few more hours, and then he could run and play outside as much as he wanted to.

  She heard the click of nails on the concrete floor as Shep came padding around the counter, a toy dangling from his mouth. As he walked up and dropped it into her lap, Melanie’s face crumpled.

  Mr. Stuffy.

  She threw her arms around the dog’s neck and burst into tears.

  “Oh, Shep, what if Bryce was right? What if all of this is just going to make things worse? I said such mean things to him. He’ll never forgive me.”

  She heard the bell on the front door ring and quickly dried her face. Whether or not she’d made the right decision giving Chad the okay to come to Fossett, the work was almost finished. Chad had told her that morning that it would be their last day of shooting. What’s done is done, she thought. The fight with Bryce had nothing to do with what Chad and Mick were doing. The two of them had been working hard to produce a video showcasing Shep’s run for mayor and she should be grateful. At the very least, it would be fun to see her dog on the television. There was no choice now but to finish what she’d started.

  There was a knock on the counter.