16
W hen Ransom Bates finally appeared on screen, the word that came to Dillon’s mind was prune . The guy was probably still in his forties. And his face remained relatively unlined. Just the same, his expression was stamped with an indelible negative. As if he had been denied what he most wanted as a child, and was going to spend the rest of his life making everyone pay.
The first words out of his mouth were, “Your numbers don’t add up.”
Dillon had worked with prunish accountants all his life. People who entered into every dialogue expecting to be scammed. Whose greatest joy in life came from saying no.
Bailey asked, “Can you please give me a for instance?”
“I don’t need to. And I don’t have the time to teach you people rudimentary accounting.” He scanned the faces frowning back at him, Bailey and Maud and Charlie and Porter and Dillon. “Your requests for state funding are hereby denied—”
He was silenced by a computer ping. A sixth face popped into view. The dark-skinned gentleman was portly and grinning and wearing a peaked Santa’s hat. “Ho, ho, ho.”
Bailey said, “Boyd Harrow, what a surprise.”
Ransom snorted his disbelief, but quietly. If anything his expression grew even more severe.
Bailey went on. “Everyone, this is my pal Boyd, formerly head of Standard Charter, currently serving as the governor’s chief of staff. Boyd, meet everyone.”
“Bailey, how are you and that lovely town of yours holding up?”
“Touch and go, Boyd. Depends on the day. We appreciate the state’s help.”
“More with every passing hour,” Porter added.
“Well, we’re here to serve the greater good. Isn’t that right, Ransom?”
Dillon could almost hear the state auditor’s teeth grinding.
“I’ve taken a look at your documents, and so has the governor’s bookkeeper. We both feel there’s a real case for your getting everything you’ve requested.”
Ransom started, “Actually, sir, there are some very serious issues—”
“Did you just interrupt me?” Boyd lost his smile. When Ransom remained grimly silent, the governor’s top man continued. “Oh, good. I was concerned about a serious breach of protocol. Now where was I?”
“I’m not sure,” Bailey replied. “Suddenly I went all breathless.”
“Money. That’s right. Look, here’s what I propose. We are going to deposit all the requested funds into your town’s account this afternoon. When the sun comes out again, we’ll sit around the table and hammer out the details. That sound good to you, Ransom?”
The state auditor remained mute. Motionless.
“Excellent.” Boyd was clearly enjoying himself. “So you will personally contact my office and assure me the funds have gone out before close of business . We clear on that, Ransom?”
“Sir.” The man sounded positively strangled.
“Good. Sorry, people. I’m off to put my finger in another dike. Merry Christmas and all that.”
Bailey waited for the governor’s man to sign off before telling the auditor, “Thank you for your time.”
Ransom’s response was cut off by the screen going blank. Dillon was glad he hadn’t actually heard the words.
Bailey said again, “Breathless.”
Right then, with a sigh from the furnace as it went quiet, the lights went out. Porter’s radio squawked first, then the fire chief’s. Charlie reported, “Whole town’s just gone dark again.”
Sullen gray light filtered through the station windows, illuminating the group as they rose and unlimbered. Maud said, “Shame that good feeling couldn’t have lasted a trace longer.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Bailey offered Dillon a grand smile. “Thanks to our man here, my day has been made. Power or no power.”
Dillon said, “Before your friend in Sacramento showed up, I thought we were done for.”
“Yeah, it helps to have pals in high places.” Bailey pointed at the front door. “Why don’t you and I go for a ride, I’ll show you where we’d most like to have the feds help us out with the rebuilding process.”
* * *
Bailey drove a white Tahoe along Ocean Avenue, taking her time, then swung around the park and meandered through two residential areas. Now and then she stopped and spoke with people—power company technicians repairing a line, driver of an ER vehicle, an elderly couple making hard going of the rubble-strewn sidewalk.
Dillon enjoyed seeing the grown-up Bailey interact with her town. She held the gentle authority of a good general, her strength and severity well hidden. But there just the same. Given a hard moment where anger was justified, Dillon was certain this woman could scorch the earth.
Which probably explained why she wore no ring.
Growing up, her ex had been a perfect foil for Dillon’s desperate impatience. Griff defined easygoing. He was not lazy, far from it. But Griff had been born with no ambition whatsoever. He accepted Dillon’s single-minded focus, just as he did his wife’s steely motivation. But Griff never truly understood either. He surfed, he fished, he worked with the crews building his family’s next construction project. He was the only son of a wealthy real estate developer, and made no bones about spending every free day doing exactly what he wanted.
Bailey returned to the car, started the motor, said for the fourth time, “Sorry about these interruptions.”
“I like watching the mayor at work.” He waited while she paused for a quick word with another crew, then asked, “Where is Griff these days?”
“Running his family’s resort hotel down in Cabo.” She turned right into Ocean Avenue and continued downhill. “It’s his idea of a perfect life. He has a great staff, they do almost everything. Griff shows up when he wants, signs the checks. The best fishing in the world, nice waves, warm water, happy tourists down for a good time.” The smile she tossed him was half a lie. “He couldn’t believe it when I said I wouldn’t leave Miramar and join him.”
“When was this?”
“Five and a half years ago. I’m surprised he didn’t invite you down for his fun-filled version of paradise.”
“I started my own company around that same time. I let a lot of things slide. Too many, for too long.”
“By that point, our happy family was already falling apart. Had been for a couple of years.” Bailey’s words held a matter-of-fact calm. Water under the dam. “Griff’s parents accepted the reality long before we could. Offering Griff this job was their way of helping us out of an impossible situation.”
“I’m so sorry.”
They didn’t speak again until Bailey pulled into the oceanfront lot and parked by the yellow warning tape. “Go for a walk?”
They started down the beachfront road. This close to the Pacific, the mist was heavily spiced with brine. The fog gently billowed off the ocean, coating every surface. If Bailey even noticed she gave no sign. The ocean was calm, the day very still. A gentle, almost apologetic rain fell, punctuated by the cries of gulls. Dillon told her, “Maud thinks there’s another big storm on the way.”
“The latest weather report isn’t so definite. I hope she’s wrong for once.” Bailey stopped in front of the remnants of the first walking bridge. All that was left were three tall pilings, jutting out of the mist like monuments to past happy days. “Tell me how you think we should proceed with FEMA.”
Dillon nodded. He’d been mentally working on this since leaving the station. “I take it the feds don’t have a ceiling on what you can ask for?”
“I have no idea. This is a first for Miramar. But my guess is, we should ask for everything, because that is exactly what we really need, and hope for the best.”
“So we describe our crisis situation one step at a time. Break it down into bite-size chunks.” He gestured at the broken bridge. “For each item, we give them before-and-after images. Maybe you could ask Olivia to help with those. She’ll make the crisis live for the people who’ve never been here.”
“I like this. A lot.” Bailey pointed them back to her ride. “Why don’t we go dry off.”
When they were seated, she turned both the AC and the heater on high. Then sat there, watching the wipers swing in a futile attempt to clear the scene. “So. You and Olivia.”
Dillon leaned against the side door, happy to sit there all day. “We arrived back in Miramar on the same day, pretty much.”
Bailey remained intent on the gray-wrapped day. “Single and ready to rekindle the old fire.”
“Single, yes. Ready, no.”
She looked at him. “That’s not what people are saying.”
“I can imagine.”
“It’s not true?”
“I haven’t discussed it with the lady in question.” Easy with the conversation. Glad to be discussing it with such a trusted friend. “But for me, no, that’s not how it feels.”
“How does it feel, Dillon?”
“Maud says I broke three hearts, the way I left without a word. Hers, Olivia’s, her mom’s.”
Bailey said softly, “Four.”
“Don’t you start. Please.”
She nodded. “How does it feel to you now?” “That I need to make amends. Not patch things up and start over. More like, I’ve been given this incredible chance to apologize the only way that matters. By doing better this time around.” He hesitated, then added, “As far as I’m concerned, this is as close to a Christmas miracle as I’ve ever come.”
She swung around so as to study him full on. “Have you worked out how that’s happening with the lady in question?”
“Maybe. Olivia’s home is probably gone. Hard to say exactly, but that’s how it looked to me. So I’ve offered her the spare room in my grandparents’ place. Soon as they clear the roads and restore power, I think we should move in. Give her a safe place to start over.”
He half expected her to laugh at him. Two people who had once been madly in love, now living together under one roof. As friends. It was beyond crazy.
Instead, Bailey said, “Come have dinner with me tonight.”