Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Marnie’s campaign headquarters buzzed with activity as Sam pushed open the glass door, Lucy padding silently beside him. The sharp scent of fresh paint hung in the air, mingling with coffee. Volunteers huddled over computers, pinning flyers on corkboards. It was a scene of organized chaos.
Something in the back caught Lucy’s attention.
She trotted off, nose twitching, as she made her way toward the far wall, where a new campaign sign was being painted.
Sam’s eyes followed her—and that was when he saw him.
Desmond Griggs. The town thug, barely out of his teens but already making a name for himself.
What was he doing here?
Sam frowned. He hadn’t thought Desmond cared about politics. But then again, maybe it wasn’t politics he was here for.
At the center of it all stood Marnie, honey-blond hair catching the overhead light. She was all smiles, gesturing to her team like a natural, drawing them in. Sam paused, watching her. The charm was undeniable—but so was the undercurrent of something darker.
Marnie’s eyes found him across the room, and her smile widened. She excused herself from her staff and strode over, heels clicking on the polished floor.
“Sam,” she greeted him, her voice warm but with a touch of flirtation. “Twice in one day? I must be lucky.”
“Something like that,” Sam said, unmoved. “I need a word. In private.”
Something flickered across her face—concern, maybe, but gone before he could be sure. Lucy joined them as she led him to a small office off the main room, shutting the door behind them. Lucy sniffed along the edges, her nose twitching.
Marnie gestured to a chair. “Please, have a seat.”
Sam stayed standing. His eyes scanned the cluttered desk—papers, campaign flyers, a wall covered in polling data. “Thanks for making time, Marnie. I know you’re busy.”
“Always time for you, Sam.” She perched on the edge of her desk. “What can I help you with?”
“I wanted to follow up on your visit to the station. You seemed pretty concerned about Garvin McDaniels.”
Her expression shifted to one of civic duty, brows knitting just enough. “Of course. Garvin was well respected. His loss is a tragedy for the community.”
“Right,” Sam said, his tone neutral. “How well did you know him?”
She hesitated, barely a second. “I told you, I spoke with him about senior initiatives. It’s an important part of my platform.”
Sam took a step forward, eyes narrowing. “There’s talk you were interested in buying some property he owned. A cottage.”
Her smile faltered. “What? I didn’t realize Garvin had a property for sale.”
Sam tilted his head, watching her. “Not officially. But I heard you asked about it.”
Marnie’s voice tightened a fraction. “I’ve been focused on my campaign, Sam. I wouldn’t waste my time with a cottage. There’s too much at stake right now.”
He didn’t blink. “You sure? You seemed upset at the station.”
Marnie straightened, arms crossing over her chest. “As the future mayor, I care about everyone in this town.”
Sam glanced out through the office’s glass wall, catching sight of Desmond Griggs lingering in the back. His mouth tightened. “Even Desmond Griggs?”
Marnie followed his gaze but didn’t flinch. “Of course. I know he’s been in trouble, but he’s turning things around. I’m giving him a chance.”
Sam studied her, wondering if she believed that—or if she just wanted him to believe it. He wished Jo were here. She could read people better than he ever could. If Marnie was really helping Griggs, maybe she wasn’t as bad as they thought.
“All right, Marnie,” Sam said slowly, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “Thanks for your time. I may need to talk to you again.”
“Of course.” The relief in her voice was palpable. “Anything to help. You know where to find me.”
Sam nodded and turned toward the door, Lucy trotting at his side. But as he left, something gnawed at him. Jo had said Garvin told her that Marnie was interested in the property. Marnie said no. One of them was lying—and it wasn’t Jo.
So the question was, was the liar Marnie or Garvin?