Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
WILLA
S awyer tugged open the door to town hall and gestured me inside. Roy stayed glued to my hip. I hadn’t had reason to come here since my grandfather had brought me to meetings with one of the previous mayors when I’d been a child, but I still knew my way. Bypassing the elevator, I took the stairs to the second floor. At the top, Sawyer took my hand, his thumb brushing over the ring on my left hand. It was a reminder that I was his—at least in a sense—and I wasn’t walking into this alone. I appreciated the silent support because I wasn’t precisely looking forward to this meeting.
I didn’t like Miles Busby. I’d never liked Miles, even when he was just my best friend’s older brother. He’d always felt like the politician he’d become. The sort of guy who was constantly looking at people to assess what he could get out of them. I fully expected more of the same from him now. Better to get it over with so I didn’t have time to work myself into a state over it.
Peggy Garrett sat at the reception desk, the only part of this office that hadn’t changed as the mayor did. She’d always had a glass jar full of hard candies to offer when I’d been a kid. I noted it was butterscotch disks today.
“Willa! How lovely to see you! What can I do for you, hon?” She automatically lifted the top off the jar, even as her smile wobbled a little at the sight of Roy.
I gave him a hand signal, and he quietly sat beside me as I pulled out a couple of the candies, passing one to Sawyer. “Hey, Mrs. Garrett. We don’t have an appointment, but I understand Miles has been wanting to meet with me about Founders’ Day. We were in town and had a little time, so we thought we’d take a chance that he could squeeze us in.”
“Oh, I… well, yes, he definitely will want to meet with you. Let me see if he’s available.”
She picked up the phone and punched a button. A voice said something on the other end. “Yes, sir. I’m aware, but Willa Sutter and her husband are here to see you.”
I frowned at that. Sawyer had a name and identity beyond being tied to me. For that matter, why hadn’t she assumed I’d taken his name? That was still the norm around the island.
“Mayor Busby will be happy to meet with you. Go right on in.”
“Thank you.”
We stepped through a wood-paneled door into a space designed to draw attention. An overly ornate antique desk sat in front of a pair of windows hung with lavish drapes. The patterned rug beneath held the kind of aged patina that didn’t come without a price. And if I wasn’t mistaken, the leather office chair behind the desk was raised as high as it would go, such that anyone who sat in the pair of conference chairs in front of the desk would be forced to look up at its occupant. I wondered if Miles had bankrolled all this himself or if the taxpayers had footed the bill.
The mayor himself looked a little more frazzled than I’d expected, with his tie already loosened and the top button of his collar popped. He faltered as he came around the desk and spotted Roy. “You came with an entourage.”
When I only arched a brow and signaled my dog to sit, he seemed to recover himself. “Allow me to offer congratulations on your marriage, and my sympathies for the loss of your grandparents. They’ll certainly be missed.”
Understanding how the game was played, I took his offered hand. “Thank you on both accounts.”
“Sawyer.”
My husband was slow to shake his hand, but at least he’d been acknowledged. I’d take the tiny win. “Sawyer mentioned you wanted to see us.”
“I did—do. I’m afraid I’ll have to be brief, as they’ve just officially issued a hurricane warning, and as you might imagine, there’s a lot to do to make sure that the town is prepared.”
“Certainly, I understand. We came into town to get some supplies ourselves.”
“Well, have a seat, and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.” He circled back around the desk, confirming my original suspicion about the placement of his chair. “Being a Sutter, you know how important Founders’ Day is to the locals on the island. Celebrating where we came from, all the things we’ve survived. Life on the Outer Banks is challenging, and this festival is a reminder of why we love it, why we stay. In the past, your grandparents have always held a prominent role in the festivities. As heir to their legacy, I knew you’d want to step into their shoes.”
‘Want’ was a strong word, but I was obligated, if not to him, then to the trust my grandparents had placed in me by leaving me everything. “What did you have in mind?”
He rattled on about the parade and the wreath laying at the tombs of our ancestors, recruiting me as judge for the assorted competitions of the day, and then he finally dropped it. “I was thinking it would be a terribly inspiring gesture if you sponsored the annual fireworks display.”
“Sponsor, as in pay for,” I clarified.
Miles spread his hands. “The town budget is strapped after the funds we’re putting into the Fourth of July, and of course, there’s no telling what repairs might be necessary in the wake of this hurricane. Fireworks would be such a sign of hope that even though we’ve lost your grandparents, things will go on.”
He wanted money. I’d assumed it would come down to that. I’d had one meeting with my grandparents’ accountant to get the broad strokes of what I’d be inheriting, but with the threat of my parents looming, I hadn’t done more than that. I hadn’t fully absorbed all the rules around the trust dedicated to funding things for the town, so it was possible such a thing could come out of that budget, but I was far more inclined to spend the money on something that would last and improve life on Hatterwick for everyone who lived here, not waste it on some meaningless display.
“Well, certainly I’ll take that under advisement as an idea, but I think it will probably have to wait until next year. The estate itself is still in probate, so I’m not going to have the flexibility to do that at this time. But I understand my role here.” That role being the controller of the purse strings. Miles believed he’d be able to manipulate me more easily than he had my grandfather. He’d have another think coming about that.
The mayor eased back in his chair, steepling his fingers like the villain in a bad TV movie. “Of course, I understand. Inheritance is so complicated, isn’t it? What are your plans for the estate, after everything is free and clear? You know there are multiple development opportunities available for forward thinkers such as yourself.”
Flattery will get you nowhere.
I would never understand how Gwen and this pretentious prick had come from the same parents. “I appreciate that, but I’m not interested. The maritime forest on Hatterwick is rare as an ecosystem. I intend to do whatever is necessary to protect it, including seeking designation as a formal wildlife sanctuary.” Of course, such a project was likely years off, but he didn’t need to know that.
Rendering the glib-tongued Miles Busby speechless was probably way more gratifying than it should have been. I knew the sanctuary wasn’t at all what he’d want for the island. He was all about development and tourist dollars and didn’t understand people who weren’t.
Having found out what I’d come for, I rose. “We’ll get out of your way. We’ve got hurricane prep to do, and I know you do as well.”
“Yes, right. Thank you for stopping by. I’ll be in touch about Founder’s Day meetings, once those are scheduled.”
“Sounds good.” As I turned toward the door, my gaze caught on a collection of photos atop the credenza. There were pictures of Miles with his wife and two kids, looking like an ad for a yacht club regatta. But there were also photos of him with his parents, including one of the entire Busby family before Gwen’s disappearance, tucked almost in the back. It reminded me that, no matter how much of a douchecanoe I found Miles, he’d suffered a tragedy, too.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever actually seen you alone since I came back to the island to offer my condolences on the loss of your sister. I know the continued lack of answers has to be incredibly hard for your family, and I just want you to know that I miss her every day, too.”
I’d made him speechless twice in the span of five minutes. I couldn’t interpret the expression that flickered over his face, but eventually he stammered, “Thank you,” in a rough voice.
We made our way downstairs and out to the sidewalk.
“Well, I guess that wasn’t as painful as it could have been,” Sawyer muttered. “That was nice, what you said to him about Gwen.”
“He’s full of himself, but you know there’s not a day that goes by he doesn’t wonder what happened to her.” The same was true of me, though I tried my best not to dwell on it. Pushing too hard about anything from that time never ended well for me.
Sawyer tugged out his keys. “We should get on to the market and pick up supplies before they sell out. It’s gonna be crazy today now that the alert’s gone out.”
“True enough.” It was time to look forward to the things I could change.