Page 51 of The Mayor and the Mystery Man

Next month. After the election.

“We want to be sure we can secure the contracts to begin building early in the new year so that it’s ready for spring. We had agreed to this timetable and the funding over the summer. This vote is mostly a formality, Rita.”

“Yes, but in light of recent events, this should be tabled until next month,” Rita said, all sharp politeness.

“Well, as an elected official now, we need to continue to conduct business. We can’t hold everything until next month. I was elected to do my job now, not wait a few weeks.”

“With all due respect, Mayor, polling is showing that a majority of Sourwood residents are not aligned to your objectives. And considering the population increase over the past four years, we don’t want to discount the opinions of new residents who will be voting. I think we should at least put it to a vote with the city council.”

Was she really taking over my meeting? We faced each other down, all polite small-town smiles. I could barely keep mine on.

“I think she has a good point, Leo,” Herb said, another city council member who’d been there since the turn of the millennium. He had petitioned (and was denied) for a bomb shelter in the center of town to safeguard against the world ending with Y2K.

The other city council members seemed to nod or at least be on board with a vote.

“Fine. All those in favor of tabling this discussion for one month, say aye.”

The ayes had it. Five out of eight city council members voted yes.

After the meeting, I caught up to Rita at her office.

“Nice move,” I said.

“It wasn’t a move.”

“Tell me, do you have any ideas of your own, or are you being fed everything by your family?”

She busied herself with shoving papers and folders into her attaché case. “We have plenty of parks in Sourwood. What’s one less?”

“You want to cut off the riverfront to the public and turn it into mansions and high rises for a select few. It will permanently alter the fabric of this town.”

“Well, that’s not up to you to decide. That’s why we have elections. And I’m still ahead.”

“Barely.” The last Vernita checked, Rita was up four points. Dusty had helped me cut her lead substantially. “I’m gaining on you.”

“Not for long, MisterWood.” And there it was again. That smile. That not-so-clueless, knowing smile that made chills slink up my spine.

“What’ve you got up your sleeve, Rita? More cute videos with your family?”

She stopped filling up her bag and stared right in my eye. “Dusty’s great. Really nice guy. It’s very serendipitous that you two fell in love. Convenient.”

My insides seized up inside me, but outside, I played it cool. “Don’t sink to that level. You’re better than that. Barely.”

“You asked what I’ve got up my sleeve, Leo?” She tossed her bag over her shoulder. “You’ll find out very soon. I’ll see you at Applefest.” She flicked a piece of lint off my shoulder and left.

I trudged back to my office, where Vernita waited patiently.

“What’s up? Shouldn’t you go back home to your wonderful husband and kids?” I asked in the doorway. Vernita’s husband was an incredible cook. I was lucky enough to eat at their house a few times, and I always wished I had left with a doggy bag.

“Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Rita is planning something for Applefest.”

“Probably.”

“She seemed very confident. Oddly confident. Have you heard anything?”

“Only that she is planning something. I asked the Applefest organizers, and they said she’s hosting a booth. She was probably trying to psych you out.”

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