Chapter 10
Ten
The next evening, Maynard’s Tavern neared closing time and only a few patrons remained for last drinks, the general hubbub of the venue having long died down. Adrian sat surrounded by six familiar faces at a round table in a corner of the room, the quiet and quaint surroundings doing nothing to dull their expressions of anger, fear, and concern.
Since he’d been the one to call this meeting, Ramos was the first to speak, turning his stiff gaze to Maureen and Frank Cooper. “I’ve looked into the LLC wanting to buy your store and the news isn’t good. There’s not much information on them, in fact, it’s been actively suppressed. They don’t show any history of ever being in the food supply industry, which seems suspicious for a company looking to buy a small-town grocery store. I don’t see what they stand to gain from obtaining the store.”
Dean leaned his weight forward and into the table, his unaffected tone cutting in. “Especially if they’re offering more cash than required.”
The sheriff nodded and turned to Maureen. “I hate to say it, but this does seem too good to be true.”
“You think it’s the syndicate?” Maureen’s face turned pale, and she pulled her wide stare from the sheriff and onto her husband, a series of worried glances breaking out between everyone in attendance—Sarah and Gordon included.
“We don’t need any more convincing.” Frank directed his decisive words to his wife, his forehead scored in a crosshatch of vexed wrinkles. “We’ll decline their offer first thing in the morning.”
The strain across Maureen’s face eased a little and she gave a slow nod, before peering around at the others at the table. “I guess that settles it then. This whole ordeal has been so overwhelming, but I’m thankful for everyone’s help.”
“Still kinda worrying, dontcha think?” Sarah frowned at Adrian, her fingers curled into the black apron she’d pulled from around her waist before sitting down, that apron now a bundled heap on the table. “That the syndicate might be vying to buy up local businesses?”
Just as he was about to answer, he sensed someone standing behind him and an unfamiliar feminine voice cut in. “Hey!”
He twisted just as a woman in her late twenties leaned over to hug Gordon seated to his left. With her designer clothes and meticulously styled appearance, she seemed out of character from most others in this town.
Gordon leaped from his chair and put his arm around the woman’s waist, his proud grin directed at his friends. “Not sure if everyone’s met Rochelle yet, but she’s Emilia’s friend from LA and she stopped by for the wedding.”
“She’s met a whole lot of your friends already, Gordon. Heck, she even scored an invite to Ally’s housewarming.” Sarah pitched one eyebrow higher at Gordon and leveled a bored tone, though the wide smile on her lips said she was happy for him. “It’s clear she’s stayed for more than the wedding.”
“What can I say?” He swept a hand down over himself. “Harlow has a lot to offer.”
Rochelle chuckled and shook her head, her gaze skimming over the small gathering. “And still, there are a few unfamiliar faces here now. Nice to meet everyone.” She waved at the table at large, then turned and peered up at Gordon. “Have I interrupted something? Do you need more time? I can wait.”
“We were just discussing town security.” The sheriff interjected this time, even as he moved to stand. “And we were just finishing up, but I hear you were one of the people caught up in the B&B closure when you first arrived.”
“I was.” Rochelle’s small frown only lasted as long as it took her to peer back at Gordon. “Not that I’m still pissed about that. Getting locked out led me to meeting this one.”
She nodded to Gordon, then returned her attention to the sheriff, something Ramos also did, as he spoke again. “The B&B is closed?”
The sheriff stared back for a quiet and heavy beat, his expression hardening with each passing second. “Sold off and closed, yah. What with the Coopers’ recent experience, do you think we have the early stages of a pattern here?”
Not wanting to admit to much, Ramos held back from answering right away. “Disrupting business would be a good way to get revenge without having to set foot in this town.”
“Mark Farro was bad enough.” Dean’s attention bounced from one person to the next, his hands curled into fists atop the table. “With Rudolph Manzinni said to be involved, anything’s possible.”
Again, Adrian didn’t want to say much, didn’t want to scare the people at this table more than they already were, certainly didn’t want to add more conjecture to the panic and rumors buzzing around this town. So, he peered up at Rochelle and puzzled over her suddenly washed-out complexion and slack cheeks, as though the mention of Rudolph Manzinni’s name bothered her even more than the people genuinely tied to this town.
“Mark’s still on the run though, right?” Though Sarah spoke, he kept focus on Rochelle, on how her gaze dropped low and flittered about the floor. “Maybe we’ll have to deal with both guys at once.”
“Now that’s a chilling thought.” Frank’s sarcastic tone garnered a few shaky chuckles, none coming from Rochelle, who now lifted her gaze and stared back at Adrian, her wide-eyed expression revealing too much.
Fear or confusion? Maybe both. Perhaps she’d heard of Manzinni before today, but why so unnerved?
New in town.
From LA.
Acting strange…
He’d be negligent to say nothing.
Though his suspicions ran high, he forced a neutral gaze, not wanting to lose this woman’s trust just yet. “How do you know Emilia, again?”
“Oh,” she scoffed, swatting one hand in front of her face in a flippant gesture. “Same circles. You know, the local Italian community. Besides, her dad is a wealthy jewelry designer, my granddad started a coffee company in Italy that went international…”
Italian. Wealthy. And they know the same people… Emilia’s ex-husband was the one who brought the syndicate to Harlow... Coincidence or connection? What better way for the syndicate to keep covert tabs than through a seemingly innocuous woman of means.
But he’d taken too long to reply and in the drawn-out silence, her stare hardened on him. “Who are you and why do you want to know?”
Though her sudden iciness sent him off-kilter, he let out a sigh and kept his tone casual. “I’m in Harlow to help these people shake the syndicate for good. So far, you’ve mentioned being in the same circles as Emilia, which seems to be the case with the syndicate, also. I hope you can see that asking is merely part of my job.”
She shook her head and scoffed again, very much a headstrong heiress who didn’t shy from confrontation. “I am not connected with any crime ring. I wanted a break from my travels and work, and with already knowing some people here, Harlow seemed a good place to stop for a while.”
She twisted as if set to leave, only to turn around and level another heated scowl his way. “Actually, no, I’m not done yet. I take offense to your asking. My whole family has spent decades in this country trying to create something positive for our people. We give and give wherever we can. So, I absolutely take issue with Italians being constantly compared to criminals and crime gangs.”
“Rochelle.” Gordon reached for her hand, but she swatted him away.
“Oh, no. Don’t stop me.”
Gordon reeled back a little, perhaps never having experienced this side of his new woman. Meanwhile, water gathered along the rim of Rochelle’s eyes, but the heat remained there, and she continued to stare Ramos down. “You’re right, we Italians do have bad apples in our bunch, but did you also know there’s a closer connection between poverty and crime, than there is to any culture? My granddad came to this country already a successful man, and yet, he still found himself locked out of opportunities, his business outright sabotaged, his ideas stolen… and still, he’s a success story. What happens to the ones who don’t have any of that?”
A tense quiet passed where he clenched his jaw and tried not to growl under his breath, even as his eyes felt like they were on fire from restraining his anger. That she accused him of being biased based on where her family came from. “You think I don’t know that? My surname’s Ramos, for fucks sake.”
She nodded, still very much pissed. “Oh, I know you know, and I’m sure you understand that migrants often get locked out of education and chances to get ahead. Then there’s the general distrust pointed at us. You know that only leads to us developing the same distrust right back. To communities building their own opportunities when the only other option on offer is failure. That’s how gangs get started in the first place, right?”
“Right.” He muttered the word because nothing she said here was news to him. He’d encountered the same push back in his own community. He’d worked within the same bodies of authority they distrusted. He’d experienced the in-built suspicion, could see through Rochelle’s perspective, even if his own suspicions toward her didn’t fully abate.
“I meant no offense.” He peered up at her, surprised at his softened reply while still not sure he downright believed in her complete innocence. “There’s more to us than the bad things that hold us back. So, I hope you and your family continue to do good things for your community.”
The tension across her brow eased and the fire in her brown eyes cooled. For a long time, she stared at him in stillness, before she nodded to herself and spoke to no one in particular. “I have to go. I have some phone calls to make.”