Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
SADIE
T he small council office shouldn’t have been as cramped as it was, yet I suffocated in the lack of air-conditioning on that warm September morning. Dust motes floated around the room totally oblivious to the chaos I was barely containing.
Between my breakdown the previous night and Rowan showing me Logan’s last messages to his father, I was in no mood to be kept waiting.
Land and council usually went hand in hand, so I was hoping someone could give me a sign to what exactly the mayor had been up to all those years ago.
With that size land, it must have been a big development of some sort.
I tapped the small silver bell sitting on the reception desk and huffed out a breath as I glanced around the dimly lit room.
The smell of old paper lingered in the room, even if there was no paper in sight.
I wasn’t sure what I expected, but weren’t there supposed to be records?
Where were all the old papers, the dusty archives, the ancient files marking the town’s past?
I guess everything had gone digital, reducing decades-old history into a series of bytes and bits, turning dusty storerooms into relics. Just like me .
Finally, a woman with a short grey bob shuffled out from another door at the back of the room, her focus on a folder in her hands. She mumbled as she flicked through several pages, unaware that she had an impatient guest sweating in the stuffy room.
I cleared my throat to get her attention, and she startled, a hand going to her chest. The folder slipped from her fingers, sprawling its contents onto the dark carpet.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, forcing a tight smile.
Her eyes widened behind her thick glasses, and she squinted, slightly leaning forward to get a better look. “Oh, my . . .” A slow smile spread across her face as if she’d just found something precious. “Sadie? Sadie Cooper, is that you?”
Yes. Yes, it was me. Who the hell was this woman?
“Yeah . . . hi.” I waved awkwardly, like my hand wasn’t quite attached to my wrist.
She scooped up the folder and tossed it onto the desk—now forgotten—then planted her hands on her hips with a shake of her head. Her expression was a mixture of disbelief and recognition.
Was I supposed to hug her? The air between us felt too warm, too strange. What did she want from me? I just wanted a goddamn answer to even one of the numerous questions that lived rent-free inside my head. I hadn’t planned on answering any from this woman.
“You’ve grown up so much,” she said, her nostalgic smile lingering in that motherly kind of way.
My hands twitched. “God, you’re just . .
. gorgeous. Your father mentioned you were back.
How is he going? Such a shame about that Stone girl, isn’t it?
Poor family, didn’t deserve that.” With a shake of her head, she clucked her tongue.
I stiffened at the mention of my father—the one I hadn’t spoken to in days. My stomach twisted, and I waited for the gut punch. I’d gotten good at taking hits from all sides lately, but nothing stung more than learning my best friend had been caught up in MC club business.
Logan had been the smart one. He’d hated what the club stood for. But worse than that was Troy Knight had known exactly what Logan had wanted to tell me. And he was no longer among the land of the living, either.
Mine and Rowan’s lives were filled with the ghosts harbouring secrets, but unless either of us were psychic, we were shit out of luck. Which is why I was standing there in a tiny room, forcing a smile onto my face that probably looked more like a grimace for a woman I didn’t recognise.
“You know my father?” I said, tapping my fingers in a mindless rhythm on the old worn timber top, betraying my unease.
Lucky her. Was he a barrel of laughs with her too?
“Oh, yes, your mother and I went to school together. You probably don’t remember, but I babysat you when you were just a toddler.” She said it like it meant something.
Did she expect the memories to come flooding back to me, and we’d reminisce over whether or not she wiped my bum too?
I didn’t know how to respond. My mind scrambled for a connection, but there was only a blank space where this woman’s face should have been. How many people had my brain forgotten during my absence?
But I had to say something. I couldn’t just stand there staring at her like a complete moron.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t recognise you . . .” I said, casting a quick glance at her name badge, while the lie just rolled off my tongue. “Nora.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’ t be silly.” Her cheeks flushed as she tucked a loose strand of grey hair behind her ear, completely ignoring the fact she knew I had no idea who she was. “You have your mother’s eyes.”
My chest tightened. “Thanks,” I mumbled. I’d had enough of this fake chit chat Nora was so eager to prolong. “Listen, Nora, I came here for a reason. I’m hoping you can help me.”
Her bushy eyebrows shot up, and she leaned forward, her curiosity unyielding. “Of course. What can I do for you, sweetheart?” There was something too eager in her eyes, like she needed me to remember her for reasons that had nothing to do with nostalgia.
The question hung in the air, but I had to get right to it.
I swallowed hard. My throat was dry, and I rubbed my palms on my jeans under the counter, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “I’m not exactly sure what I’m looking for. All I know is there was a large plot of vacant land about six years ago.” I threw the sentence out there like baiting a shark.
I didn’t quite trust myself not to ramble on. She didn’t need to know that I was digging myself into an early grave.
Nora nodded a little too fast, quick to please me. Was she married? Did she enjoy her job? Or was it as lonely as it seemed on the outside?
“Do you know which area?” She slid into her seat behind her desk and tapped away at her keyboard, then looked up at me expectantly.
“I’m not sure exactly. The mayor was planning something for those properties off Creek Street.” The words caught in my throat, so I cleared it and forced another casual smile. But it felt more like a confession.
What business did I have with the town’s past when I’d tried so hard to escape it?
She didn’t even blink at my request, just typed without missing a beat.
“Ah, yes. You’re probably looking for the proposed shopping precinct.
Such a shame that never went through. Would have been nice not to have to travel an hour away just for a decent pair of shoes.
” With the click of her tongue, she shook her head. “Just a moment.”
The clack of her typing filled the room as I hovered there, out of place and impatient. She hit the Enter key, and the printer kicked into gear, the mechanical sound whirring around the small room like another uninvited interruption.
Each tick of the wall clock was slower than the last. The keyboard tapping had stopped, but I was still trapped, waiting for her to free me from this tiny room, and from the small-town past I’d tried to outrun.
The printer spat the last page out with one final jolt.
Nora stood and dawdled over to the ancient machine, snatching up the numerous pieces of paper from the tray.
Her pace continued to slow, every step stretching the seconds until I thought they’d never end.
I would have said it was purposeful, a deliberate attempt to piss me off.
But honestly, I figured she was just lonely and wanted to keep me there a little longer. Sad really.
But I had no time for pandering to this woman, not when I was on the verge of discovery.
I shifted from foot to foot, my impatience warring with the manners I still held onto. Nora failed to notice—or maybe she didn’t care—how desperate I was to escape the suffocating stench of her cheap perfume.
She stapled the papers together and held the small stack out to me with the kind of gentle smile that only made me feel more awkward. And maybe a little guilty.
“Here you go sweetheart. It’s nice to see you following in your mother’s footsteps.
” She tapped the front page. “You must be looking into those deaths, too. Such a shame, what happened to the Wilsons. Must be why the building works never got approved. Might have felt wrong knocking down a house where people died.”
I frowned. “People died?”
“Oh, yes,” Nora said, leaning in closer.
“Wasn’t much said about it. The Wilsons kept to themselves, mostly.
Some say their deaths were all a big cover up.
But I don’t much listen to town gossip. After your mother .
. .” She gave me a sad smile. “Well . . . whatever she was looking into, must have put a spanner in the works. The mayor stepped down about four months later. Something about some missing money.” She let out a soft sigh, waving a hand.
“Anyway, I best let you get going. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
I blinked, my mouth hanging open. And she didn’t listen to town gossip? If I had known better, I’d have said she was the town gossip. But people died? Had that been what my mother was looking into all those years ago?
I didn’t know what else to say, so I just snatched the bundle from her too quickly, my fingers grazing hers. She just smiled again, a pretence to not noticing I was a total head case. Maybe she understood my discomfort more than I’d realised.
“No. Thanks Nora,” I mumbled, clutching the papers to my chest to shield myself from further enquiry.
I forced myself to hold her gaze for a second longer before I turned and bolted out the door, darting away from the stifling office with the intensity of someone being chased.
The clang of the screen door snapping behind me was a relief. Its echo sounded in the air as I hurried down the cracked cement steps, trying to put as much distance between myself and the council building as I could.
Nora’s words replayed in my head. People had died in that fire, and I could guarantee my father had somehow swept it under the giant proverbial rug with every other Ridge Riders’ whoopsie he’d covered up over the years.
I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the warm, dry air of Barrenridge, the familiar scent of dust and eucalyptus twisting with memories of a life I’d left behind.
I’d let Nora get to me, and I hated how easily she knocked me off balance. She’d reminded me of my mother and why I was standing in front of her small desk in the first place. The papers were heavier than they should’ve been. But not half as heavy as the weight on my chest.
My mother had stumbled onto something that could have brought the entire MC empire crumbling down around our feet.
Yet, I couldn’t see past my grief to truly understand the gravity of what she’d been uncovering.
And I didn’t want to admit that it was possible the person I loved the most in the world might have been working against her.
But it was the only logical explanation.
As I darted across the road, a flash of chrome caught my eye. I squinted, just enough to make out the shape of a motorcycle. A mop of blond hair ducked in behind a building. I didn’t need to guess who it might be.
Scout.
Was he following me? That sonofabitch . . .
His attempt at being stealthy left much to be desired. It would have been laughable if it wasn’t so goddamn frustrating. I knew exactly who had sent him.
Rowan. He just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could he?
The alley between the buildings was quiet, except for the low hum of an idling engine. It was easy to believe you were alone in this town, even surrounded by people.
I stormed in Scout’s direction, my boots echoing against the pavement. “Scout?” I called, squinting as the sun flared off the chrome of his bike, blinding me for the briefest of seconds.
A long pause. I knew he could hear me from his little hiding spot beside the building. Maybe he thought if he stayed quiet long enough, I’d give up and leave. Not likely.
Seconds passed, and then he finally stepped out. “Oh, hi Sadie, fancy seeing you here.” He winced, rubbing the back of his neck.
That adorable thing he was doing with his eyes didn’t work on me. Instead, he looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I didn’t buy his bullshit for a second.
I smacked his upper arm with the back of my hand, hard enough to leave a red mark. “Don't play dumb with me, Jesse. Why are you following me?” Thought I’d hit him with his given name. That often pulled me into line as a child.
He didn’t answer me right away, just looked past me like he half-expected Rowan himself to be standing there, ready to chew him out for giving himself away. His shoulders sagged, admitting defeat, and he exhaled loudly.
“Rowan thought it would be a good idea . . . you know, considering,” he muttered, not quite meeting my eyes.
Did he now? Did Rowan think he could just infiltrate my life, and I wouldn’t do a thing about it?
He’d kissed me like I was the only girl in the world, and now he was playing puppet master.
What an arrogant prick. And I’d thought we’d had a moment the previous night.
Silly Sadie, always trusting those golden eyes like they were the damn sun, and I needed them to survive.
Frustrating didn’t even touch the sides of what Rowan was.
Scout was just as bad, loyal to a fault, doing exactly as he was told.
Maybe he thought pleasing Rowan was the only thing that kept him tethered.
Although, I did feel bad for him. It wasn’t him I was furious at.
He was just the one standing in front of me. Right place, wrong time.
“Right.” I turned on my heel and made a beeline for my car. “Where is he?” I called over my shoulder, not even pausing for Scout to answer. “The clubhouse?” Even as the question fell from my lips, I already knew my answer.
And Scout’s silence confirmed it.