Page 95 of Anchor Point

“Well, if that’s not the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” a lone elderly female voice piped up loudly from the back of the room.

“Mrs. Eunice, please take your seat.”

“I’ll do no such thing, Herbert,” she told the council chair. “I don’t care about your meeting rules, so just pipe down. Paul here is the one who is making private matters public. So I’m going to say my piece, and you’re going to listen.”

She passed my row, leaning heavily on her cane, until she limped up to the mayor and thumped him on the chest. “Sit down, Paul.”

“Who is she?” Trina asked from the corner of her mouth.

“That’s Eunice Whitaker,” Cathy said under her breath. “Founder of the Public Safety Foundation. Probably the scariest woman on the planet.”

“Now, let me tell you the truth about that evening,” Eunice began, thumping her cane against the podium to gain attention. “That night, a sorry sack of human set fire to our beloved courthouse. Then he popped caps, injuring some of the very men sent to battle that fire. That’s all on the bad guy who’s currently behind bars. But the real travesty. The real issue that Paul here isn’t mentioning is that the batteries in the radios that the personnel used failed. Why? Because the mayor cut the fire department’s budget. The former chief doled out contracts and bid awards to his buddies, and they purchased inadequate equipment. Now, normally, the Public Safety Foundation would happily provide grant support for these supplies, but the former chief declined any assistance because, and I quote, ‘the mayor was going to take care of them’ end quote from emails between myself and the former chief. To be clear, our Chief Hawkins was on scene, but due to Mayor Smith’s failure, she couldn’t do her job.”

The councilmen looked between themselves.

“Further,” she continued, “Chief Hawkins left the scene because her daughter was kidnapped. I’m sure I’m supposed to say allegedly here, but since I was a witness, there’s no alleging to it. I saw him with my own two eyes.” She banged the cane against the podium again.

“How dare you threaten to fire a woman for saving her child. Especially when that woman was also responsible for capturing the jackass who set that fire and the others. And as for her relationship and all that bluster… get over it. They have a child together.” She shook her head, brandishing her cane again. “We all know what happened before, Paul. If you don’t want your own dirty laundry aired, you need to pipe down and apologize to Chief Hawkins. If anyone is a whore around here, it’s you.”

Shocked silence rang through the room.

“Now, one of you fine young men help me back to my seat.” She motioned for the man nearest her to come assist, turning back to the microphone as they began to lead her away. “And Mr. Chairman, remember, your momma is my neighbor at the nursing home.”

As chaos reigned through the conference room, the meeting was ended abruptly, with no resolution, though I wasn’t so sure we’d heard the last of the mayor.

Outside city hall, Trina turned to me. “What just happened? I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. That whole meeting needs to be thrown out. It was totally illegal.”

“Welcome to small-town politics,” Cathy said with a grin.

Trina’s eyes lit with glee. “I may have to come here more often.”

We said our goodbyes, and I watched as they walked away.

No matter what kind of disruption had happened, it was a matter of time before the council decided to act. I just knew the mayor wouldn’t let this go.

My crew didn’t deserve to be put through this. They’d had enough turmoil. My job was to be their support, not create problems for them.

A familiar pickup truck pulled up to the curb, the passenger window rolled down, and Mac stared back at me.

I didn’t want to give him up and separate him and Rosie. But we couldn’t continue like we had.

With a heavy heart, I walked to his truck and got in.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Mac

Olivia and I skipped out for the rest of the day. I took her home and made love to her, using our bodies to show her how much I treasured her. Cherished her.

She looked defeated and so damn sad.

I left her curled on the couch, with a cup of caramel-bourbon-laced hot chocolate while Buster and I went to pick up Rosie from school.

“Is Mom okay?” Rosie’s brow furrowed in concern. “How did it go today? Did they fire her?”

“No, Buttercup. It wasn’t pretty, but nothing has happened yet.” And I was determined to do whatever it took to get us both what we wanted.

“Thank God. She’s worked so hard and finally made chief. It would be terrible if she lost this job.”

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