Page 48 of Small Town Secrets

While Whitney remained in her arms, she turned and ventured toward the sheriff standing at the exit, brushing past Ramos and continuing to block him out. As much as she wanted to go, she had to pause as Emilia and Blaine approached.

“You got through the roadblock?” Emilia’s eyes held a sad sort of joy, like, despite the miserable circumstance, she was genuinely glad to see Laila okay. “Did you happen to drive past our house? The fires were so close by the time we left, I was hoping, maybe—”

She didn’t finish speaking before Blaine raised a hand and went to rubbing her back, the gesture seeming somewhat consoling, as though he’d come to terms with a sobering reality that she still held hope over.

Laila’s heart strained, but she’d spent years learning to do difficult jobs, and so she didn’t seek to draw out Emilia’s pain with denial. She gave a slow shake of her head and whispered a weak, “I’m sorry.”

Emilia’s lips wobbled and water gathered in her eyes, but she offered a grateful nod all the same. This woman had already lost one home to flames and the syndicate, and here she stood, life still in danger and her home gone. Laila wanted to stay and comfort Emilia, but she had other priorities right now, while Blaine stood by ready to help his new wife.

So, she dropped her gaze and avoided any more talk, pushing past and proceeding onto the sheriff, the man still half a hall away. Squeezing through a throng of people wasn’t easy. A number of those gathered lifted their heads, lips parting as though they sought to stop and talk to her. But she simply shook her head at them and continued to move on.

The sheriff spotted her approach just before she stopped before him, her voice wavering as she spoke. “Can I leave?”

She already sensed what the answer would be.

The sheriff eyed her, but his focus soon stopped on Whitney, a momentary look of remorse cracking his stony expression, as he shook his head. “The roads are backed up as it is, and I wouldn’t advise it. You could get trapped. If you can hold on for a little longer, we’ll have new routes cleared and two lanes of traffic open on a designated safe route out. We’ll also have a crew to guide the way.”

Laila bit down an instinctive need to protest and glanced behind her at the mass of people, with their faces pale in clear distress. Much of this lot would have witnessed the flames outside too. They’d be just as desperate to leave. But the sheriff was right. There could be safety or pandemonium in numbers. With her and Adrian’s wild ride in, at least the new lanes would have emergency crew to keep the peace.

And still, looking around, this place felt less like a community hall and more like the inside of a sinking passenger ship—everyone simply waiting for the moment to collectively drown.

That thought turned her tummy rock hard, but she nodded in a solemn promise to the sheriff that she would stay put. At least for now.

Just then, the doors to the sheriff’s left burst open and Ted Boseman, a local farmer, crashed through. He shoved at an unfamiliar man, pushing the guy, while holding his hands together behind his back, and yelling out for everyone to hear.

“Caught this one crossing my field on foot and a gasoline can in hand.” He gave the man one final hard nudge toward the sheriff, the sheriff extending his hands to catch him. Dean Holloway stepped up to help, the sheriff already inundated with a constant stream of updates crackling over his radio.

Dean ushered the apprehended man to an empty chair by the entry wall, accepting a pair of the sheriff’s handcuffs in the process.

The sheriff finished responding to the comms on his radio, then clapped Ted on the back. “Great job there, Ted. Sorry to say, he’s not the first one we’ve caught this morning. This was clearly an organized attack, and as much as I’m sure Dean could shake the truth out of that one, I doubt he’d tell us anything we haven’t already guessed for ourselves.”

“It’s the damn syndicate, isn’t it?” Ted held a gruff tone, his dirt-stained hands curled into fists at his sides as if he truly wished to hit someone.

The sheriff nodded. “Ramos helped apprehend Mark Farro just this morning. Seems the arrest came hours too late.”

Laila’s jaw dropped open, and she spun around to find Ramos still behind her, his cheeks sunken like he understood exactly what thoughts ran through her head. He hadn’t told her. Hadn’t even given a clue of what he would be doing last night. He hadn’t even mentioned Mark Farro’s name. Much less that he’d planned his arrest.

The sheriff knows more about this man than I do.

To make matters worse, Gerry Gibbons squeezed in on the conversation, his wife and three kids only yards away. And of course, Lenny Brooks stood even closer.

“So, what you’re saying is that this won’t all end with Mark Farro?” Gerry held a scrunched expression, as though he’d already forgotten all about Laila kicking his ass and that Ramos hadn’t been far off joining her. “Is that right?”

“There are no guarantees.” The sheriff shrugged, a new level of wariness shadowing his face. “But we have another key syndicate member off the street, and that’s something.”

“Still not enough.” Gerry scoffed and turned his scowl to Laila. Maybe the ass-kicking wasn’t so forgotten. “Someone’ll replace him, just like how he took over from Luciano Conti. Rudolph Manzinni is still out there too. No one knows what he looks like or where he is.”

His words dripped in hate and venom, and he directed it all on Laila, as if she embodied everything wrong with this day and all the events that led up to it. His cold delivery had her clinging tighter to Whitney, seeking comfort, while offering protection.

“You lot shoulda moved on when we said.” Lenny drew in closer now, his tight movements holding just as much malice. “Now there’s no more Harlow for you or us.”

Though she couldn’t understand why they took this all out on her, it seemed her close physical proximity made for reason enough. Lenny took another step toward her, and she inched back. Surely he wouldn’t hurt a woman with a small child in her arms.

“Mommy, I want to go.” Whitney’s tinny tone mirrored Laila’s fear, and she sought to fulfill her daughter’s wishes, only for Ramos to step out in front of her.

“Why don’t you address those sentiments to me or Mr. Holloway?” He used his body to block any attacks, as well as Laila’s view. “Instead of trying to scare a woman and her child?”

“What do you care?” This time Gerry piped up, and she saw past Ramos enough to catch Gerry lifting his chin in defiance. “You’ll be kickin’ off soon enough, won’t you? While we’ll be the ones dealing with a burnt-out town. You got no place interfering.”

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