Page 161 of Sugar & Shadows

She stiffened at first, but then, with a sharp exhale, she sank into my chest.

Relief hit me hard. She was here. She was okay.

We were silent for a few moments, just holding one another, while I dug deep to find the right words.

Before I’d come up with them, she sniffled and straightened.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

I sighed. “I need to talk to you.”

Her bottom lip quivered. “What have you heard?”

“Nothing good.”

“I saw the signs.”

“I don’t care.” I took a deep breath and dove in. “This is more than politics. My office received half a dozen freedom of information act requests this morning. About meetings, email records, TAP activities.”

She stiffened again. “Of course.”

“Someone is trying to intimidate you.”

“It’s working,” she whispered. “It feels like everything I’ve built here is falling apart. And instead of only hurting myself, I’m taking the entire town down with me.”

Her eyes welled with tears and her cheeks went blotchy.

Pain lanced through me. “There’s something else.”

With a deep inhale, she nodded, ready for it.

“Woodstock Insurance called, they no longer want to be a principal sponsor of the Maplewood Games, and they do not want to be included in the public proposal.”

Her eyes widened and her lips parted. “But…”

“Apparently after ‘internal meetings,’ they decided it’s not right for their brand.”

“We built everything around their involvement,” she rasped, then inhaled a shaky breath. “And part of the pitch to the town is that we’re not asking for a lot of money because we’ve got Woodstock Insurance and plan to get more sponsors.”

I nodded, rubbing her shoulders. “This is coordinated,” I said softly. “And I’m scared.”

She frowned at me. “I’m not. Trust me, I know this game. And if they think they can intimidate me with FOIA requests and lawsuits⁠—”

“Lawsuits?” I frowned. “I thought that was just speculation on the internet.”

She shook her head. “Got served this morning. Blackbriar Capital.”

My stomach dropped. The name alone sounded expensive and evil. Also pretty familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“It’s a hedge fund,” she explained, “owned by Richard Calloway, father of our favorite wayward son.”

The information nearly knocked me over. Though it made sense now. But how was Ethan’s dad connected to what happened in DC?

“Blackbriar was the principal investor in Eastgate,” she said, as if reading my mind. “Held shares in several of their funds. It’s a whole shit show.”

“Let’s go to Nolan,” I said. “We should document this. Who knows what Ethan is capable of.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s a pencil-dick fuck-up using his dad’s money to intimidate me. Hardly a crime lord.”