26. Hannah
HANNAH
Gerald Fitch has been talking about the one-way roads for eleven minutes.
I know because I've been watching the clock on the wall behind Evelyn's head, counting the minutes while my stomach churns and my notes sit untouched in front of me.
Gerald owns the barber shop on First Street and he's convinced the one-way traffic pattern is killing his business. And he brought charts.
"If you look at the second graph," Gerald says, tapping his poster board with a wooden ruler, "you'll see foot traffic on First Street dropped by eighteen percent after the change.
Eighteen percent, Mayor Grant. That's customers walking right past my door because they can't find parking.
" He's so emphatic and it would be comical if this weren't his fourth time here.
Evelyn nods patiently from her seat at the center of the panel table. She's good at this, the listening part, the making-people-feel-heard part. She folds her hands on the table and gives Gerald her full attention even though we've had this exact conversation at three previous meetings.
"Gerald, we appreciate your bringing the data," Evelyn says. "We'll add it to the traffic committee's review and revisit the issue in July. Does that work for you?"
Gerald grumbles something about July being too late for summer tourist season, but he rolls up his poster board and sits down.
I feel for the guy, but my mind's somewhere else entirely.
It's been somewhere else since I walked in and saw Mr. Dorsey sitting in the gallery seats in the back row, smiling at everyone who looked his way.
He's here because he knows this meeting is about the festival, and he thinks he still has a seat at the table. But he's wrong about that, and he's about to find out.
Evelyn moves through the next two agenda items quickly, a Parks Department update on the restroom renovations at Bullard’s Beach and a brief report from the fire chief about staffing for the festival weekend.
Then she turns to me and says, "Hannah, I believe you have an update on the Bandon Summer Festival. The floor is yours."
I straighten in my chair and open the folder in front of me. I'm wound tight enough to snap, but I've rehearsed this in my head for three days. I know exactly what I'm going to say and how I'm going to say it. And I know just how Calvin Dorsey will respond, which is why I'm on edge.
"Thank you, Mayor Grant." I look out at the room.
There are only about thirty people in the gallery tonight, but enough people to cushion his response if he's too upset about it.
I'm hoping he has enough tact to not blow his top in here.
"I'm pleased to report that festival preparations are on track for our July Fourth kickoff," I say.
"Vendor contracts are finalized, stage construction begins Monday, and as most of you know, pier two has been approved for full commercial and public use, which gives us expanded capacity for maritime events and waterfront vendor access during the festival weekend. "
A few people clap at that. Tank whistles from the third row and I have to bite back a smile.
It's good to know I have marina staff support after the past several months of having to share the pier with them.
Tank, more than others, has been chomping at the bit to have his mooring back.
His boat was the first one moved back to pier two.
"I also want to take a moment to publicly thank Mr. Calvin Dorsey for his generous support during the planning phase.
" I look directly at him when I say this, and I keep my voice warm and sincere because the people in this room need to believe it.
"Mr. Dorsey stepped in during a critical period and provided financial support and logistical assistance that helped us stay on timeline.
His contributions have been invaluable, and this council owes him a debt of gratitude. "
Dorsey tips his head in a small nod, and the people around him turn and smile at him. A couple of them pat his arm in a show of gratitude. All the while, he soaks it in like a glutton.
I can't even articulate my distaste for the man. This whole time, I knew something was off, and I couldn’t trust myself enough to follow my own intuition until Luke helped me see the light. Well, not anymore.
"That said," I continue, and I take a more stern voice as I do, "as we enter the final phase of preparations, I've made the decision to consolidate all remaining logistics under the council's direct oversight.
This is a standard restructuring that allows us to streamline operations and ensure full accountability as we approach the event.
Mr. Dorsey's involvement in the procurement and planning process has concluded, and I want to assure everyone that the transition is seamless. "
The room doesn't react much to that. Most people here don't know what Dorsey was actually doing, so to them this sounds like boring administrative housekeeping. But I can feel Dorsey's eyes on me, boring through me, and I keep my gaze on Evelyn. If I look at him right now, I might lose my nerve.
"That's wonderful, Hannah," Evelyn says, beaming. She turns toward the gallery. "Mr. Dorsey, on behalf of the Bandon Town Council, thank you for your generosity. This festival wouldn't be where it is without your support."
"It's been my pleasure, Mayor Grant," Dorsey says, standing up to address the mayor.
"Bandon is a special community, and I'm honored to have played a small part.
But if I may, Mayor Grant…" He waits until Evelyn acknowledges him with a nod then continues.
"I appreciate the kind words, Hannah, but I want to make sure I understand. You're saying my role is finished?"
The room goes still. Evelyn looks at me, then at Dorsey, and I can see her political instincts kick in. She can tell what I'm trying to do and wants to keep this meeting under control. Hopefully, Dorsey's pushback doesn't get messy.
"I'm saying the council is taking over final logistics," I say, keeping my voice level. "It's standard procedure as we move into the execution phase. Your help getting us to this point has been essential, Mr. Dorsey."
"But I have ongoing commitments tied to this event," he says, and there's an edge creeping into his tone. "Equipment that's already been purchased and is en route. You can't just sever those arrangements two weeks before—"
"Mr. Dorsey," Evelyn cuts in, "I think what Hannah is saying is that the heavy lifting is done, and you've done a remarkable job of it.
" Her genuine warmth takes over, but Dorsey's face keeps twisting in anger.
"The council taking the reins from here isn't a reflection on your work.
It's a reflection of how well you did it. "
Councilman Ray Perkins leans into his microphone. "Mr. Dorsey, I just want to echo what the mayor said. Folks like you are what make small towns work. We're lucky to have you, and I hope you know your contributions won't be forgotten."
"Hear, hear," says Councilwoman Debra Langley from the far end of the table.
Dorsey opens his mouth to say something else, and I watch him scan the room.
Every face in the gallery is turned toward him with gratitude and warmth.
The entire room is thanking him, and he knows there's no way to fight this without looking like the one person in the room who isn't gracious about it.
"I appreciate that," Dorsey says, and he eases back into his chair slowly. But the anger knit into his forehead is obvious. "I just want to make sure the transition goes smoothly. I'd hate for any of my efforts to go to waste."
"They won't," I say, and I hold his gaze firmly. "I'll make sure of it." Every ounce of effort he's put into smuggling things into this town will definitely not go to waste. It can all be used as evidence to his crimes and I fully intend to use it. Luke and I are going to take this jerk down.
"Well, then," Evelyn says brightly, clapping her hands together. "I think we can all agree this festival is in wonderful hands. Thank you, Mr. Dorsey, truly. And thank you, Hannah, for your leadership on this. Now, the last item on the agenda…"
Evelyn wraps up the meeting with a reminder about the volunteer sign-up for festival setup crews and a note about parking logistics for the event weekend.
People start filing out, chatting and gathering their things, and I take my time organizing my folder and pushing my chair back because I don't want to walk out at the same time as Mr. Dorsey.
I wait until most of the crowd has dispersed before I even move.
By the time I grab my bag and head for the door, the building is mostly empty.
I push through the front entrance and dig in my bag for my keys as I walk down the steps, but before I can even get to my car, Mr. Dorsey has fallen in step with me.
"That was quite a performance in there, Hannah," he says in a threatening tone.
I'm not shocked at all but it does make me scared.
With Luke's warnings rumbling around in my head, I ease my car key between my first and second fingers in a tight fist, preparing to fight like hell if this man lays a hand on me.
"Mr. Dorsey, I—"
"You cut me out." He steps in my way and I stop walking. We're between two parked cars at the dark end of the lot, and no one is around. "I'm not just some contractor who finished a job."
This is terrifying. I should've left when everyone else did.
I wasn't even thinking. "Your role in the festival planning has been completed," I say, trying to keep my voice even, but my heart is hammering.
"The council 's taking over final logistics.
It's a standard restructuring, Mr. Dorsey. It's not personal."