Page 153 of Sugar & Shadows

With a wink at him, I weaved around the seating toward the back of the room, keeping my eye out for Ethan. When I located him, I stopped in front of one of the sponsor displays—something about the future of tourism—and inched closer to where he stood by the coffee station with a few other men.

“Maplewood’s finished,” one declared. “That murder killed any charm that dump ever had.”

“And our influencer girl WanderBetch finished it off.” Another laughed. “Maybe it was worth the twenty-K she charged for Murderville after all.”

The group made sounds of agreement.

“The town’s been dying a slow death,” Ethan said. “This just accelerated the timeline.”

A chill ran through my body. He sounded like he was already sure of the outcome.

“And the tourists don’t want authentic,” he continued. “They want curated. Dumb sheep will travel wherever we tell them to.”

“And we did hire that brand consultant for the festival.”

“What about the holdouts?” the man in the Arcadian polo shirt asked. “I’ve made no progress with Lawrence or Fitzgerald.”

“They’ll come around eventually. Subtle pressure, a few underperforming trees. Maybe some mistakes on the farm. Tubes cracking, collection containers leaking. We’ll have them ready to sell in no time.”

Sell? Sabotage? My blood pressure spiked. Holding my breath, I subtly checked my purse. Motherfucker. I hadn’t packed my taser.

So I did the next best thing. I covertly snapped a few photos, then captured some of the voices on audio. Meg would have a field day ruining these guys’ lives.

As I was leaning toward them, a warm object made contact with my lower back, and my muscles went rigid, my body preparing to elbow my attacker in the throat.

“It’s me,” Gabe whispered in my ear as he wrapped an arm around my waist. His touch steadied me and soothed me immediately.

“They’re talking about Maplewood like it’s dead,” I hissed.

His jaw clenched, and a wave of weariness rolled over his expression. The poor man had been carrying so much on his shoulders. Quickly, he brushed off the look and tightened his arm around me. “We’ll save it.”

The certainty in his voice undid me.

Heat prickled behind my eyes. “Do you have bail money?” I asked.

Head lowered, he shook it. “I don’t want to know.”

I craned my neck, continuing to listen to the conversation nearby. “No, you do not want to be an accessory to the felonies I’m about to commit, Gabriel. It would really tank your approval ratings.”

He glowered. “Stand down. No fights. We’re not committing felonies.”

I stuck my lip out in a pout. “Misdemeanors?”

“We’re outnumbered,” he reminded me.

“Remember the black eye I gave you?”

“Vividly.”

“There are more where that came from.”

The grin he gave me momentarily distracted me, and I considered pulling him down a back hall and ravaging him.

Behind us, a throat cleared, and as we turned, Gabe instinctively grabbed my hand.

Sure enough, Ethan was watching us, wearing a superior sneer. His focus drifted to our joined hands, and he broke into a predatory smile.

“Well. What an unexpected surprise,” he said. “Monroe. Mayor. Nice to see you here. Enjoying the meeting?”