The smell of fresh coffee was the first thing Booker noticed. It was a silent testament to Margaret’s usual attention to detail. A reminder not to underestimate her. Booker knew that Margaret and Marshall had been the force behind what some people saw as the ruthless efficiency of the Town Council.

  Margaret met him with a carefully neutral expression, her icy blue eyes betraying nothing. If she felt grief, it didn’t show. He didn’t expect her to, which is probably why she didn’t pretend to. Marshall and Margaret might have been friends, but Margaret had been waiting for this moment for years.

  Instead of hiding her grief, Booker assumed Margaret was hiding her happiness. Her moment would come sooner now. There was no doubt she would remain mayor now that Marshall had died. No one was going to want to run against her now. It would feel like disrespect for Marshall.

  “Sheriff,” she greeted him, gesturing to the coffee and pastries on the table. “Help yourself.”

  “Thank you,” Booker replied. His eyes met hers as he took a cautious sip of coffee, instantly recognizing the quality. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

  “A little comfort in these difficult times,” Margaret explained, a hint of a smile on her lips. The warmth didn’t quite reach her eyes, adding an edge to her words that Booker filed away to think about later.

  “Difficult times indeed,” Booker agreed, setting his coffee down. “Let’s cut to the chase, Margaret. When was the last time you saw Marshall?”

  Margaret’s gaze didn’t waver, but Booker noticed the slightest pause before she answered, “Last week, at the Town Council meeting. I am assuming you mean other than Saturday night when everyone saw Marshall.”

  “And there was nothing unusual about his demeanor? Nothing that indicated he had plans to leave town for good? Even on Saturday night? He didn’t give away his plans?” Booker probed.

  Margaret shook her head, her blond hair shimmering under the room’s florescent lighting. Booker suspected she would change out those lights to be more flattering the first chance she got.

  “Marshall always kept his cards close to his chest,” she replied. “I can’t say I knew much about his personal affairs. Why would he be leaving town for good? His plans were to come back after his vacation and help me run for mayor.

  “Of course he was happy at the party. Who could blame him? Forty years with a spotless record. Not many people can say that.”

  Booker studied her for a moment longer before nodding and taking a thoughtful sip of his coffee. This was just the beginning of a long investigation, and he intended to follow every lead, however minor it may seem. This wasn’t anything other than a courtesy meeting.

  He planned to talk to everyone on the Council. Casually, at first, but he would watch to see what they did in Marshall’s absence.

  After asking a few more questions, Booker said he’d get back to her later. But first he wanted to speak to all the Council members. They shook hands—on the surface friendly and on the same side.

  But for Booker’s part, he was more sure than ever that Marshall’s death had not been an accident. Perhaps he wasn’t the beloved mayor everyone had thought he was. And Margaret didn’t seem surprised at the mention that Marshall hadn’t planned to return from vacation. What else did she know?

  Margaret watched Booker’s departure with a gaze as sharp as a hawk, her mind churning with plans and predictions.

  And so, the two danced around each other, one searching for answers, and the other holding her secrets close. The journey to uncover the truth of Marshall’s demise had just begun, and in the quiet town of Spring Falls, their dance would determine the fate of many.

  Eighteen

  “Barbara, are you alright?” Judith asked. Neither Tanner nor Barbara had said anything yet, and Judith was getting impatient. What was going on? Tanner looked worried, but Barbara seemed scared. Barbara only nodded in response, clutching the cup of coffee that Nancy had brought her as if it were a lifeline.

  Tanner put a comforting hand on Barbara’s shoulder, sharing a brief, intense look with Judith. He had brought Barbara here, and even though he knew he wasn’t responsible for the distress Barbara was in, he felt terrible anyway.

  He liked Barbara, even though he suspected she was part of what was going on in the Town Council. Maybe she had not taken part, but she had also said nothing. Perhaps she was like Walt, who had come to him earlier and hinted to him what the Town Council was doing. Tanner still wasn’t sure he could trust Walt, but for some reason, he was more likely to give Barbara the benefit of the doubt. Maybe because she reminded him of his mother.

  Like his mother, Barbara had always struck him as mischievous, enjoying the small prank or unexpected comment. Yet, sometimes his mother would fall into a deep depression, and he had to wait her out. Now, what Barbara was doing felt the same to him. Withdrawn, depressed.

  Which was why even though they had come to Judith to get her advice, neither of them were speaking, which just increased the tension in the room that was gathering around Barbara like a storm cloud.

  When Barbara didn’t answer, Judith decided to wait them both out. Barbara stuck in her fear, Tanner in his worry. They were in her office for a reason. Eventually, they’d tell her what was going on. Getting mad or upset wouldn’t work.

  Instead, Judith leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee, looking as if she had all the time in the world, while feeling like flinging something to break them both out of their silent spell. They had obviously come to tell her something, but what?

  Tanner had a crease between his brows that hadn’t been there before. Judith watched as he murmured something in Barbara’s ear, trying to provide some comfort, but it seemed to have little effect. Barbara remained silent, obviously struggling with what to say.

  Judith understood that Marshall’s death was a blow to the entire community, and probably even more to the Council members. Marshall was a pillar in Spring Falls, a constant presence that no one had ever thought would be suddenly taken away.

  But this, Judith thought, this is something else. She could feel a deep unease that seemed to radiate off Barbara like a dark cloud.

  “Barbara, if you need to talk, I’m listening,” Judith offered again, the words hanging heavy in the quiet room. Barbara offered her a small, sad smile, but still said nothing.

  Barbara wanted to speak, but she didn’t know where to start. She wanted to tell Judith everything. She was tired of carrying the burden of what she had done. With Tanners’ help, she had gotten herself as far as Judith’s office, where she had meant to blurt out everything. But fear and guilt kept her from speaking.

  She kept asking herself what would happen once she told what she knew? What would happen when she told them of the financial transactions that had been going on for years, right under the town’s nose? What would happen when Judith learned that Marshall, the town’s beloved mayor, had been accepting bribes for years?

  What would happen when she told Judith that members of the Town Council had participated in this deception? Or, in her case, looked away. She wanted to believe that she was innocent, but she knew once she told Judith, she would have to admit that she wasn’t. None of them were.

  Even more worrying was that she knew someone had redirected Town Council funds to an offshore account just days before Marshall’s death. Did Marshall move them? Is that why he was pretending to go on a vacation, but was really leaving town? Barbara was worried that someone else was involved. Someone who had been aware of Marshall’s misdeeds and had taken advantage of the situation.

  But if someone else was involved, who was it, and for how long had they been? And, most importantly, was Marshall’s death truly an accident, or did someone take action to cover up what had been happening? These were the burdens Barbara bore in silence, the secrets that aged her and painted worry in her once bright eyes.

  At the same time, Barbara thought that now that Marshall was dead, it was the perfect time to come clean. Perhaps work out some kind of deal. It was why she had come to Tanner. She knew he had spoken to Judith. She knew Walt had already tried to point Tanner in the right direction without incriminating himself.

  So eventually the truth would come out, and it would be better for her if she told first. But despite Tanner’s reassuring presence and Judith’s apparent concern for her, she couldn’t stop asking herself what would happen when she told.

  Barbara knew that when she revealed what she knew, they would charge her as guilty the same as everyone else involved. She had known what was going on for years. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking that there might be a way she could make herself be seen as innocent. Her hesitation to speak up was driven by fear of self-incrimination and the potential fallout it could cause.

  Barbara jumped when Judith put her coffee down, and glancing at Tanner, turned all her attention to her and said, “Now Barbara. Out with it.”

  Seeing Barbara’s distress, Tanner made a decision. He’d tell what he knew, even though it wasn’t much, and perhaps that would give Barbara the courage to speak up. Then maybe they could convince Walt to join them. Because even though Walt had expressed a desire to come clean about what he knew, Tanner wasn’t so sure that would happen.

  Taking a deep breath, he began. He didn’t know much, but it was a beginning.

  Nineteen

  Colin was glad it wasn’t him going to lunch with Margaret. He knew the cock and bull story Margaret would feed Walt. Which was good. Walt needed to be reminded of their agreement. Walt had been acting strange lately, but he knew Margaret was aware of it and would handle it.

  Instead, his mission was to recruit the two people that Margaret had decided should be on the Council. One to replace her, and one to replace that coward, Barbara.

  But that wasn’t what he was doing. He had gone home, made himself a drink, and settled down in his favorite chair to think things over. Margaret thought she was his boss, but she wasn’t. He was his own boss, he always had been, and that would not change now. He did what she asked him to do only if it worked for him.

  Sure, he let Margaret believe he was following her orders. Why not? That was part of the con he’d been playing since they made him a member of the Town Council. Making people believe what they wanted to believe was his gift. He fooled people all the time. He did what was right for him, and no one else. And since Marshall had been aware of Colin’s gift, Marshall made sure what he wanted Colin to do was what Colin wanted for himself.

  But even then, despite what Marshall believed, Colin only followed orders if and when he was sure it was best for him. And he was rarely confused about what he wanted. Life, and his needs, were crystal clear to him. He always had a plan, and he knew every bit of how it would work. It might have taken him longer in school to learn something, but once he did, he remembered it forever.

  But right now, he wasn’t sure what to do next. How could he be? Marshall was gone. His plans had to change. Life as they knew it was over. Sooner or later, their misdeeds would be discovered. Colin knew Margaret was delusional if she thought she could contain the past.

  It was Marshall who had been the tactician, the one who could read every situation and know what to do. Marshall was the person who loved the crowds and the people and never faltered once his mind was made up.

  Colin had never been under any illusion that Marshall had anyone’s best interests in mind other than his own. But as long as what Marshall wanted served him too, Colin was happy to let Marshall lead the way and he would carefully follow. Now there was no one to follow. Because he certainly wouldn’t be following Margaret.

  Colin clinked the ice in his class, swirled the amber liquid, and thought through his choices. Was it time for the Town Council to publicly claim their right to do what they had done? Could they support that claim? Probably not.

  No, Colin thought, making public what they had done shouldn’t happen. It was clear that what they had been doing was illegal.

  Could he claim he didn’t know? Or should he turn them all in first and take his punishment? He could work out a deal. He wouldn’t spend a long time in prison, and after that, he’d be a free and very wealthy man. He had hidden his money well.

  Or should he do what Marshall had been planning to do and get out of town before anyone found out? He’d leave the country. He’d leave his closet of bespoke suits and the townhouse, furnished to perfection, behind. Forget about the life he had cultivated and dreamed about since he and Walt were in grade school together.

  All he had ever wanted was to be powerful and wealthy. No one’s slave or a kid to be kicked around. When Marshall tried to bully him into participation, he refused. He made his own choices. Once Marshall realized that, their working relationship improved, and they made more money together than he had thought possible..

  However, Colin’s wealth came from many sources. The kickbacks from Marshall’s schemes were only a small part of his wealth. Most of it came from what he did on his own. That included wise investments and owning a highly successful real estate firm.

  He and his team had sold more than half the houses in town. It was his knowledge of Spring Falls and the people who lived there that had provided Marshall and Margaret with what they needed to make their deals.

  Plus, he had been wise in life, too. Unlike many of his colleagues, he hadn’t made the mistake of falling for a woman, marrying her, and then needing to pay her off when he found another woman foolish enough to think they were the one. His romantic partners never ended up with any of his money. They were never that important to him.

  His affairs, like himself, were discreet and private and controlled. He ended them when he was ready to because they no longer served him. Male or female, it made no difference to him. He had houses all over town he could use while having his affairs. Never his home. Never theirs.

  Sometimes he used the knowledge he gained from those affairs to make more money. Another stream of income that wasn’t part of his business dealings with Marshall or Margaret.

  But all that was in the past. It all ended when Marshall fell down the stairs. And now he needed to make a plan for what to do next. What was the wisest course of action for him? Should he do Margaret’s bidding? Should he confront Walt and make sure he was keeping his mouth shut? And Barbara was always a worry. Always had been. Maybe he’d have to deal with her separately.

  Should he stay in town, keep his business running, but disentangle himself from the deals that Marshall had made? Looking back, he realized he probably should never have said yes to Marshall. He was plenty successful on his own. But he had said yes. Now what? Should he leave and start over? Make life simpler somewhere else? Live off his hidden wealth?

  Outside, the falling snow grew thicker. It was no longer just drifting down. Through his window, Colin could see that the snow looked like someone had opened thousands of feather pillows. It was so thick that he couldn’t see the trees in his yard. He could hear the snowplow coming down the street.

  No one was going to do much in this storm. He had time to make his plans on how to extract himself from the other storm heading his way. Booker was no fool. He’d soon figure out what happened. And then there was Judith. She wouldn’t let it go either. She was like Margaret, but on the other side. Margaret broke things. Judith fixed things. And now that the town was broken, Judith would lead the way to figuring out what happened and deciding what to do about it.

  Turning to the table beside his chair, Colin grabbed the remote for his gas fireplace and switched it on. He might as well make himself comfortable. He had some work to do. Then, opening a drawer in the table, he pulled out one of his disposable phones and made a brief phone call.

  “No, no one had turned in a cuff link. Yes, the room had been cleaned.”

  Colin shrugged, he must have lost it some place else. It wasn’t important.

  Pouring himself another drink from the bottle sitting beside him, Colin leaned back in his chair and started planning.

  Twenty

  Colin was right. Margaret was wooing Walt back into the arms of the Council. But Walt was watching everything that she did and everything she said, and as if he was no longer part of the world. He was outside of himself, looking at the scene as if it had nothing to do with him.

  He could see and hear Margaret, but none of it seemed real. Margaret smiling and tossing her overly styled blond hair, her blue eyes sparkling at him as if he were important to her, was like watching a movie.

  When he was younger, he had fallen for Margaret’s charms. Even in first grade, he had known about Margaret Williams. Everyone did. She was the high school cheerleader everyone watched at the football games. She was everywhere, her long blond hair streaming in the wind. The movie “Ten” could have been made about her.

  Walt thought every boy in town probably dreamed about Margaret, no matter how old they were. But then and now, she controlled her world and made it work her way. If you were lucky enough to be part of it, she would shine her light on you. If you weren’t important to her, she barely noticed you.

  So when she and Marshall asked Walt to run for Town Council, it was a dream come true. It meant that he could bask a little in her light. Sometimes he felt guilty thinking that his crush on Margaret was cheating on his wife, something he would never do. But that crush had survived all those years, and remained despite his growing awareness that Margaret was not a light at all, but a dark hole that sucked people in.

  Walt understood, even during those first heady years on the Council, that Margaret wasn’t offering anything like respect or love. She was offering power, and he couldn’t resist that then. Especially since so often he felt powerless himself.

  Margaret and Marshall always seemed to know what to do. He, on the other hand, could decide nothing. Or at least it took him forever to make up his mind. So instead of resisting or speaking up, he went along with their plans. It was easier that way.