As Cindy stirred the sauce, she looked over at Judith and smiled. She didn’t need to tell her what she was thinking. Judith nodded at the living room where they could hear Bree, Bruce, Booker and Daniel laughing, and smiled back. But Cindy was worried. Judith was unusually quiet. Was something wrong?

  After dinner, they gathered in the living room around the fire. Judith had left the curtains open so they could watch the storm. It was completely dark outside, but the snow was so white it was hard to tell. Other than the wind howling in the trees, it was a white, silent world.

  After a few minutes of gazing at the storm, Bruce spoke up.

  “You’ve been extra quiet tonight, Booker. Anything you want to talk about?”

  Booker looked at Bree, and she nodded. He repeated his concerns that he had told Bree earlier about Marshall’s death ending with his belief that it wasn’t an accident. Someone had pushed him and taken his computer.

  Turning to Judith, he asked, “You said you had something to share about Marshall?”

  Judith sighed. She should be happy about this mystery. It was something she could help solve, something she could fix. But this time, she wasn’t sure that she could. And it was possible that she was partially responsible for what seemed to be happening. Not on purpose. But then how many horrible things happened because someone made a mistake? And this time it might have been her.

  Still, it was not in her nature it give up or remain quiet about injustice, no matter who or what caused it or perpetuated it. Reaching over to hold Bruce’s hand, feeling the steadfast strength he radiated, she answered.

  “Yes. I need to tell you something I learned about Marshall and the Council. And if it’s true, then the town of Spring Falls is in trouble. And even though I don’t want it to be true, I think it is.”

  “It would explain Marshall’s death?” Daniel asked.

  “I think it would.”

  For the next hour, Judith shared with her best friends what Tanner and Barbara had told her. She couldn’t prove it yet, but she thought it was true. The group took turns asking her questions, Booker watching more than talking.

  And then the room fell silent. Outside, the snow had stopped falling and the only noise was the distant sound of the snow plows as they began the work of clearing the roads.

  It was Cindy who broke the silence by asking, “So there are many people who would have a reason to push Marshall down the stairs, aren’t there?”

  “Afraid so,” Booker answered.

  Twenty Seven

  The missing cufflink remained unnoticed in Pedro Santiago’s pocket until Monday afternoon, when, as the storm intensified outside, his wife decided to do the laundry. Pedro returned home exhausted on Saturday after cleaning up from the Mayor’s retirement party and forgot about the cufflink he had pocketed. Sunday morning had been filled with family and church, and then he was off to work at his other job. The one he liked, and would have liked more if he wasn’t so tired from working twelve hours a day at two jobs. Even then, they were barely making ends meet.

  But working at ParaTi’s as a line chef had reminded him of when, as a kid, he used to help his mother in the kitchen as she prepared food every day for their large family. He chopped, and cleaned, and peeled, and made food so good that sometimes people got tears in their eyes.

  He wanted to be that person, be like his mother, make food so good people cried for joy. Working at ParaTi’s, he had felt a glimmer of hope that one day, he could be. But that glimmer grew fainter every day as he struggled to feed, clothe, and house his family.

  Which was why the wasted food at the Mayor’s retirement party was so upsetting. Why did people take food they weren’t going to eat? He saw it all the time at ParaTi’s. People ordering more than they needed.

  But at least at ParaTi’s, he and the staff could eat a meal, and any unserved food at the end of the night was available to anyone who wanted to take it home. Then, if there was still food, it went to an organization that distributed it to the needy. People like him.

  On Monday, Pedro worked the lunch shift at ParaTi’s. After lunch, because of the worsening weather, the management closed the restaurant, ensuring that the staff could get home safely. They had already begun preparations for the evening’s dinners, which meant they had a lot of surplus food that wouldn’t keep. Pedro took advantage of that and brought home enough food to cover lunch and dinner for him and his wife for a few days.

  And since there was no cleaning work because of the storm, he was home when his wife, Maria, found the cufflink and asked, “Where did this come from?”

  He explained he found it while cleaning up after the party, and she asked why he had kept it. “Shouldn’t you have turned it in to the boss?”

  “Leon wasn’t around. It was late. I stuck it in my pocket and forgot about it.”

  Maria turned the cufflink over in her hands, inspecting the intricate detailing. It was a handsome piece, with a crest she didn’t recognize. She caught the faint glint of gold, indicating its worth was likely substantial.

  “Look at this design, Pedro,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the engraving. “It looks expensive, like something a rich person would wear.”

  Pedro sighed, thinking back to that night. “I think it belongs to one of the Council members. They were there, celebrating with the Mayor.”

  Maria’s eyes widened slightly. “If it’s from a Council member, then it must be very valuable. What if they are looking for it? You might get in trouble if they find out you took it.”

  Pedro shook his head. “I didn’t ‘take’ it, Maria. I just forgot about it, that’s all. I’ll return it tomorrow., maybe there’s a reward.” he added hopefully.

  Maria handed it back to him. “Just be careful. You know how these rich folks can be. They might accuse you of theft.”

  Pedro nodded, understanding her concerns. His boss, Leon Price, was not known for his depth of understanding and might accuse him of stealing it. The divide between the working class and the town’s elite was clear, especially when it came to matters of trust. He carefully placed the cufflink in his pocket, intending to keep it safe until he could return it.

  Monday night, Pedro couldn’t sleep. His mind kept wandering to the cufflink, but more than that, to the inequalities in the town. How could some people wear such expensive jewelry while others, like him, worked tirelessly just to feed their families? The storm outside mirrored his inner turmoil, the wind howling, snow blanketing everything.

  The next morning, Pedro decided. He would return the cufflink, but not to his boss. What good would that do? He would probably accuse him of stealing. Instead, he would talk to his friend Mary at ParaTi’s and ask her to introduce him to the group of women that often came in to ParaTi’s together.

  He and Mary had struck up a friendship because, on her break, she would often watch him preparing the food. She told him she wanted to make better food for her husband and daughter Rho. Pedro had shared what his mother taught him, and Mary showed him pictures of her husband and daughter.

  Mary had even introduced him to her mother, Bree, when she had come in with a group of women who called themselves the Ruby Sisters. In fact, she had introduced him to all of them, and although Pedro didn’t think any of them would remember him, he would talk to them anyway. Especially the one with flaming red hair, because Mary had told him she was someone who righted wrongs.

  And there was something very wrong going on in Spring Falls. It had been going on for some time, and no one had done anything about it. He hoped that Mary’s mother and her friends didn’t know about it, because if they had and had done nothing about it, then all was lost. He didn’t know who else to go to.

  If it was just him facing this problem, he probably wouldn’t say anything. He had been taught to not make waves. But it wasn’t just his family. It was an entire community of people who had been told they needed to move because their houses were being torn down.

  Who gave them the right to demand that of them? Where were they supposed to go? Pedro knew it wasn’t the first time this had happened, and he knew if he said nothing, it wouldn’t be the last.

  Yes, he would return the cufflink. But he’d ask Mary to help him take it to the red-haired woman named Judith, and that would give him an opening to explain what was happening to his neighborhood. He prayed she was not part of the problem, and that she would believe him, and most of all that she could—and would—do something about it.

  Twenty Eight

  Colin had spent the night at Margaret’s, but not in the way he had expected. Instead, she had given him a blanket and pillow and let him sleep on the couch in her office. And that was only because of the storm. Otherwise, he would have been shown the door.

  In the morning, she had woken him up as soon as it was light, handed him a cup of coffee in a travel mug, and practically pushed him out the door.

  It was an obvious message. Business only. At least Margaret hoped that was the message that he got. She had no more time for these side affairs. If Colin could do what she asked of him, they would be just fine. If not, then something else would have to be done.

  When he had told her he had not yet approached the people she had asked him to about running for the Council, she had wanted to strangle him. Did he think he had the right to question what she asked him to do?

  But instead, she had remained silent, waiting for him to stumble over himself with apologies. Which he did. And promised to take care of it immediately. She hoped he was telling the truth. Despite, or maybe because of, his arrogance, he was useful to her.

  But now that he was gone, she had some serious thinking to do. Until Marshall’s death, she hadn’t realized how much of her power was because it was teamed with his. She wished she would have realized that sooner. She might have done things differently.

  Instead, now she had to build up her power base herself. It pissed her off that it was so much harder for women, even women like her, who didn’t back down. But she was up to the challenge. She always had been. This was nothing different.

  On any other day, she would have left the house by now. She would first stop at the restaurant she owned for breakfast, and to check on things. It was just one of many businesses she owned in town, but it was the one she allowed people to know about.

  Owning a small business that served people food came in handy. People loved to be fed. And she made sure she did that well. She often met people at her restaurant to discuss business. This way she didn’t appear as if she was better than them. She was like them.

  She had purchased the restaurant from the original owner as soon as she had some money, and then hired the best manager she could find. It was the place she and her friends would often go to after school, or after games, or dances. She liked it then, but she liked it better now that it was hers and she had made some changes based on what she had learned from her travels.

  The changes were subtle, but they worked. That was her. Subtle. Not that people knew that. What they saw was the outward appearance that she projected on purpose. They thought she was one-dimensional, but she wasn’t. And that, she decided, was where her true power lay. Behind the scenes. Let them see what they wanted to see. Diversion worked in magic tricks and in real life.

  As she dressed for the day, Margaret thought about Marshall and what she knew about him that she assumed no one else knew. Should she go to Booker and tell him? Because eventually he’d find out, and then he’d figure out that she knew and wonder what else she was keeping from him.

  As she applied her lipstick, Margaret thought she was aging well, but something felt off. In the mirror, her blond hair suddenly appeared too garish, and she decided that was the problem. It was too blond, as if she was still a young woman.

  It was time to tone it down a little, maybe even let some gray show? It was trendy now to have pure gray hair, especially if it was more white than gray. She wondered what her hair color really was now. She’d have to find out.

  It was a small decision, but it was the small things that people used to form opinions. She needed people to see her as wise and dependable. A little gray could help with that.

  Still, she had to decide what to do about Marshall’s secret. She almost wished he had never told her. But they had both drunk too much one night and were reminiscing about the indiscretions of their youth. Neither really ever shared anything that would give the other one power over them, so their conversations were rarely personal.

  But then Marshall had paused and said, “I was married once.”

  She had laughed and said, “Yeah, right.”

  Turning to her, she swore she saw a hint of tears in his eyes, something she had never seen before, and he said, “Yes. I was.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was who I am now, not a nice person, as you know. So within a year, she left me. I never even met him.”

  “Met who?”

  “The boy. She was pregnant. She said she didn’t want him to ever know me, just in case I influenced him in some way. When she sent me divorce papers, I barely glanced at them before I signed. She didn’t ask for anything from me, so what did I care?”

  “You didn’t care that you had a son somewhere? How could you not?”

  Marshall had shrunk into himself and didn’t answer. Margaret was busy trying to figure out who that woman could have been.

  Finally pouring himself another drink, he added, “Eventually, I decided I did care. I looked for them both. But by then, she had hidden herself and the boy completely. Now it’s too late.”

  “Maybe you should look again. Technology is better.”

  “No. Too late to do anything about it. He’d be too old for me to mold him into what I wanted him to be. Which is exactly why his mother kept him away from me.”

  Margaret had nodded, and they both fell silent, ending the evening not long after that revelation. After that, they never spoke of it again. Marshall acted as if he hadn’t told her, and she acted as if it didn’t matter. And it hadn’t. Until now. Because, if for some reason that boy, now man, showed up, he had a right to Marshall’s estate. And that could cause all kinds of trouble.

  So Margaret felt as if she was in between two hard decisions. Tell, and control the narrative. Not tell and hope no one found out.

  Twenty Nine

  By Tuesday morning, the roads were clear, and the snow had already begun to melt.

  “February,” Judith mumbled to herself as she opened the door of her office, trying not to slip on the slush that layered the sidewalk. Who liked it? Not her. Although there was already evidence of spring on its way, despite the snow, it couldn’t come fast enough.

  The holidays were fun with food, gatherings, and beautiful decorations. But she eagerly awaited the freshness of spring. She had often threatened to go away during the month of February. Wait it out in some place warm, like Hawaii. Maybe next year, she mumbled to herself.

  Nancy, as always, was already in the office, had coffee brewing, and had a smile on her face. Judith had no idea how she would run her office without her, not that Nancy didn’t remind her of that fact periodically.

  “It’s a full house today,” she said cheerfully. Judith knew the cheerfulness was because Nancy loved being around people, and although she lived alone, often went out with friends after work. Nancy had brought in many clients over the years just because she so often bragged about her boss.

  By lunchtime, Judith was both exhausted and hungry. Since she didn’t have a client for a few hours, she thought she’d treat herself and have lunch at ParaTi’s. She texted Bruce to see if he could join her.

  By the time she got to ParaTi’s, he was already there, waiting at their favorite table, wearing one of the shirts she had given him because she thought it brought out his blue eyes. It did. To Judith, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen.

  Judith thought back to when they first started seeing each other. They would meet out of town so no one would see them. She wasn’t sure why they did that. After all, who would have cared?

  Now it seemed as if half the restaurant smiled and waved as she made her way to the table. Bruce stood and gave her a quick hug before sitting again, and a little titter ran around the room as people smiled at one of their favorite couples.

  As they settled in, both Mary and Veronica came up to their table.

  “Wait, we get both our favorite waitresses today?”

  “No, it’s Veronica today, but we both have a favor to ask of you, Judith. I have a friend in the kitchen. Pedro. You’ve met him. He needs to talk to you about something he found at the Mayor’s reception.”

  “And I have to show you some pictures of something Emma saw on her run this weekend,” Veronica added. “Well, actually, Emma wants to show you, but I want to be there too.”

  “Are these two things related?” Judith asked.

  The two women looked at each other before Mary answered, “On the surface, they don’t seem to be, but we think they are. Somehow.”

  Judith held up a finger to ask them to wait as she called Nancy and asked her when she had a free hour that afternoon. Hanging up, she said, “Can Pedro and Emma, and of course you, too, Veronica, be there at 3:00?”

  Veronica said they could and then stayed at the table to take their order while Mary checked with Pedro. As she hurried out of the kitchen to the table that was waiting for her to take their order, she gave them a thumbs up.

  The atmosphere inside ParaTi’s was warm and buzzing with chatter. This was Judith’s escape from the mundane routines of life, a comforting space where familiar faces and mouthwatering aromas greeted her every time. But today, she had trouble enjoying it.

  As she had listened to Mary and Veronica, she felt that now familiar undercurrent of worry grow. It was worse now, though. Because she now knew that underneath Spring Falls’ peaceful surface, something evil had been going on for quite some time. And she thought that what Pedro and Emma had to tell her would add more proof.