Page 44 of Small Town Secrets

Tonight’s arrest was a major step forward, but still, Harlow couldn’t breathe easy. Not until he ascertained the syndicate’s next move. Whether they would finally back off now that Mark and his vendetta had nowhere to go.

The room’s concentrated silence lingered with the muffled stomp of new footsteps against the carpet. Another small entourage flanked a handcuffed Mark Farro, his icy gaze quick to find Ramos.

“What good is being clever, Mr. Ramos”—a small smirk pulled his lips higher, and his stare took on an even deeper chill—“when you’re in the wrong place?”

Not wanting to provide Farro the joy of any reaction, Ramos paused to process those words. What did he mean by ‘in the wrong place’?

None of today would have been possible without Adrian’s months of work. Without his syndicate connections. Without their help, Mark Farro would never have been arrested. He frowned at the apathy in Mark’s bold statement. At his lack of anger at his arrest. Like he’d wanted Ramos to be here.

Mark must have read the confusion in Adrian’s frozen response because his smirk turned to an outright sneer. Even as the agents pulled him past, he did not look away. Though he did call out in a roaring laugh.

“You’re too late. You’re all far, far too late.”

The early morning sky held a pale gray glow, the sun only just peeking over the mountainous horizon, as Laila steered her car closer to Harlow. Towering pine trees flicked past her window on the near-empty highway and provided space for her mind to wander. As tumultuous as things had been lately, she still had a lot to look forward to. Her summer classes would be finished soon, and she’d have some weeks off without study. She could have more time with Whitney, perhaps even Ramos would stick around. Because she did want him to stick around. But whether he could—or would—remained to be seen.

And on the topic of Ramos, she owed him a serious talk when she returned to town. She would lay out how she felt about her ex-husband’s secret life and secret family. She’d share all her emotions. The anger. The betrayal. The fear. Her devastation on Whitney’s behalf. That she’d have to one day sit her daughter down and tell her the horrid truth of Mike’s choices.

Expressing her insecurities to Ramos would not be easy, especially when she also wanted to talk about how the secrecy around his work tweaked her insecurities. That watching his cold change during the showdown with Gerry had shocked and unsettled her.

She guided her car left and off the highway, higher and higher up a hill where a view of Harlow would soon open at the peak. A good portion of the town nestled snug between the region’s rolling hills and she knew this path well. The lush golden wheat fields. The subdued light over the valley at this time of morning. She knew this place well enough that she could notice any differences immediately. Like now, as Harlow unfolded before her, and a litany of things appeared that shouldn’t have been there.

The muddy gray sky. The columns of smoke dotting the valley. Her gut jolted with a wave of nausea. An icy chill filled her veins.

Harlow was on fire.

All of Harlow was on fire.

Instinct had her foot clamping down on the accelerator, as did the ingrained knowledge that summer’s heat would make quelling the flames near impossible. And the worst of it… Somewhere amongst it all was Whitney.

Without her mother.

Scared.

And Laila still nowhere near enough to help.

Her throat swelled and formed a panicked sob, and she fought back tears, only for her thoughts to catch on Ramos. Just for this moment, she had to be more like him. Run toward the danger. Not from it. Her daughter needed her.

She swallowed at the tension in her throat and spoke out to her phone’s voice command, the phone itself clipped to her windshield. “Call Mom.”

The dial tone rang twice before her mother answered, her voice through the speaker a jumble of background noise and fraught words. “Laila, something terrible’s happened.”

“Is Whitney okay?” As much as a new sob worked up Laila’s throat, she had to know her daughter was okay.

“Yes. Yes, she’s fine, but the town’s on fire.” Her mom spoke quickly. “Where are you?”

“I know about the town, Mom, I’m on the mountain and can see it all.” She peered to her left, where an influx of outbound traffic strained to escape in the opposite direction. “There’s a lot of cars leaving, are you one of them?”

“No, Honey. There’s too many of people fleeing, and they don’t want a bottleneck of cars at every exit where people can get trapped in their cars. Our section of town isn’t so bad yet, we’ve been told to gather in the town hall, but I’m not sure how long even this plan will hold.”

Whitney’s little voice came through all the background noise and Laila fought with herself to not exceed the speed limit more than she already did. Drawing closer to town, the fires grew increasingly visible, the pristine landscape littered with beacons of destruction, the morning light now holding an orange glow.

“I gotta go, Mom.” The town’s roadblock sat up ahead and she’d need to speak with the people there. “I’ll see you soon.”

With all the fires, getting to town hall wouldn’t be straightforward, she hung up from her mother knowing she’d given a promise grounded in uncertainty.

Her stomach churned, as she pulled up to the line at the roadblock and tried to remain calm. The officer on duty leaned into the window of the car ahead, his finger pointed in the opposite direction to town. He stepped back, and the car proceeded to do as told and turned around.

She inched her car forward, knowing full-well that turning around would not be an option. Not for her.

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