Chapter 12 #2
"Just friendly advice. You'll always be an outsider here, Thomas.
No matter how many solar panels you put up, no matter how many of your neighbors' fields you help harvest. These people have known each other for generations.
You've been here, what, a few months? You don't understand how things work.
You don't know who you're dealing with."
"I'm starting to get a pretty clear picture."
Harlan stood there, lit by the firelight, looking at me with something that might have been pity if it hadn't been so calculated.
"I even heard rumors about your association with Aimee.
" His voice was conversational, almost friendly.
"She works at the grocery store in town, doesn't she?
Nice enough woman, I suppose. Though she's developed quite a reputation over the years.
" He smiled. "Aimee's quite popular with the men around here, from what I understand.
Has been for years. Can't say I'm surprised you found your way to her. Men like you always do."
"That's enough, Harlan."
"Just relaying what everyone knows. She reminds me a bit of Claire, actually. Claire Beaumont, I mean. Your other neighbor." Harlan's smile widened. "She was the same way. Girl got herself pregnant at eighteen and has been living off her dead father's land ever since."
"Leave. Get off my property. Now."
The words came out low and hard. I was walking toward him now, my vision narrowing, my blood pounding in my ears.
Harlan didn't flinch. He just turned and sauntered over to his expensive vehicle. I followed him.
"Struck a nerve, did I? Say no more, I'll leave you and Miss Kim to continue with... well, whatever you were up to."
He got into the Range Rover and pulled the door shut. Through the open window, his voice carried clearly.
"Think about my offer, Thomas. It really is quite generous."
The engine started with a whisper. The headlights came on, washing the clearing in harsh white light. Harlan raised one hand in a casual wave.
Then the Range Rover was rolling backward, turning, heading down the access road. The taillights glowed red through the trees, growing smaller, and then they were gone.
I stood there in the darkness, my chest heaving, my hands still clenched at my sides.
"Holy shit." Grace's voice came from behind me. "That guy really is a greedy old asshole."
I walked back to the fire pit and sat down. My pipe had gone out, the ashes cold.
"Yeah. He really is."
Grace was staring at the spot where the Range Rover had disappeared.
"Is he always like that?"
"Just the second time I've met him, but yes." I picked up my pipe, examined it, set it down again. "Starts out friendly. Offers money. Then the threats start when you don't take it."
"What's his deal with your property anyway? Like, why does he want it so bad?"
"It borders his land. He thought he was going to get it when Claire sold it. Instead she sold it to me. He's been trying to push me out ever since. Cutting off my power just like he did to Abner."
"That's fucked up."
The owl called again, closer this time. The fire had burned down. I should add more wood, I thought, but I didn't move. The encounter with Harlan had left something sour in my stomach, something that wouldn't settle.
"What about that kid he mentioned?" Grace asked. "The one asking questions about him?"
"Richard Whitlock. Works for the Bremerton Times. He's been looking into Harlan's dealings, how he's used his influence to squeeze people out." I managed a grim smile. "Sounds like it's making Harlan nervous."
"Good." Grace pulled her knees up to her chest. "Someone should make him nervous."
I thought about what Harlan had said about Aimee. About Claire. The casual cruelty of it, the way he had weaponized gossip and reputation to try to get under my skin. The worst part was that it had worked. I was still angry, still feeling that hot pulse of rage in my chest.
"Dude? You okay?"
I looked up. Grace was watching me with concern. I took a breath. Let it out slowly. The anger was still there, but I pushed it down, locked it away where I could deal with it later.
"I will be."
"That stuff he said about Aimee and Claire." She shook her head. "That was really mean."
"Harlan's a mean person."
"No kidding." She was quiet for a moment. "So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to stay," I said. "I'm going to keep building. And I'm going to help Richard dig up whatever he can find on Harlan Foster."
Grace nodded slowly. "Good shit."
I finally reached for the firewood and added a few pieces to fire pit. The flames caught, climbing up the fresh fuel, pushing back the darkness.
"Now." I settled back in my chair. "What was the rest of that story? About the concealer?"
Grace blinked. "What?"
"You said it got worse. Before Harlan showed up."
A smile crept across her face, replacing the tension that had been there since the Range Rover appeared.
"Oh man." She shook her head. "So there I was, looking like a corpse, and I tried to fix it with the napkins at the table, right? But I only made it worse. Smeared white all over my face. And then this really cute guy came over to ask if I wanted to dance..."
I listened as Grace finished the story, letting her voice wash over me, letting the laughter come when it needed to. The fire crackled. The night sounds returned. And somewhere out there in the darkness, Harlan Foster was driving home, probably already planning his next move.
Let him plan. I'm here to stay.