Page 56 of Silver Linings

“Oh, it’s no problem. You know I’m always here for my constituents.”

He might as well have handed me that opening on a silver platter.

“That’s good to hear,” I said, then sat down in the chair that faced his desk after he’d waved me into it. Possibly, I would have given off more of an aura of strength if I’d remained standing, but I hadn’t wanted to tip my hand by ignoring his request straight off the bat. “Then I hope you won’t mind telling me what a bunch of Northwest Pacific workers were doing in Welling Glen last night, starting to cut down a bunch of trees?”

Tillman was short and rounded and ruddy on a good day. Now his face turned even redder, making him resemble nothing more than an over-ripe tomato.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, even as I noticed he wouldn’t quite meet my gaze. “You know there’s a moratorium on any cutting in that area — or anywhere else in the forest — until the residents of Silver Hollow have had a chance to weigh in.”

Typical politician, always trying to cover his butt. Luckily, I’d been prepared for this sort of obfuscation, so I wasn’t about to let it put me off my stride.

“That’s what I thought,” I responded, still doing my best to sound pleasant, nonthreatening. “But it looks like the people at Northwest Pacific didn’t get the memo, because they were definitely out there last night with bulldozers and cutting equipment and the biggest woodchippers I’ve ever seen.”

He tugged at the lapel of his jacket. Although it was cool enough in the room, a faint sheen of perspiration appeared on his forehead.

It was probably the first time in my life I’d ever made someone sweat, and I had to admit I was kind of enjoying myself.

“Do you have any evidence of this, Sidney?” he inquired. “Because while I of course believe you, I think the people at Northwest Pacific are going to want something to back up these claims.”

“Ben Sanders was with me,” I replied at once. “He has a Ph.D. in archaeology and can corroborate what I saw.”

Of course, I conveniently left out the part where Professor Sanders now seemed to be operating on the fringes of an already fringe community. Right now, I just wanted Mayor Tillman to know that I wasn’t making this up and that I had another eyewitness who would be all too willing to testify that the logging outfit was operating where it shouldn’t be.

Was that a bead of sweat rolling down the mayor’s nearly beet-colored temple?

“Also,” I added, doing my best not to grin at his obvious discomfort, “I’d be more than happy to pick out the foreman from a lineup. He was wearing a hard hat, so I can’t say for sure what his hair color is, but I still got a pretty good look at his face.”

Tillman reached up to brush the perspiration away from his forehead — a sure sign of weakness, according to a friend of mine from college who’d majored in psychology. “This — this is not a criminal matter, Sidney. There’s no need to be talking about police lineups and such.”

I tilted my head at him. “Are you sure? Those are Forest Service lands, after all. We might be talking about a federal offense here.”

Now the mayor looked as if he was about to fall over from sheer panic. “I assure you that Northwest Pacific would be careful to have all its permits in place before it ever began such an operation. They’ve been in business for nearly a hundred years and certainly understand all the legal procedures they need to follow.”

That was true enough. Although I didn’t like it, I knew the government leased lands to private corporations like this all the time if there were parts of the forest that needed to be cleared. It was a good means of making money in a way that wouldn’t have much impact on anyone.

Well, except for whatever animals might be living there.

“Maybe they thought they had permission, but they don’t,” I said. “Everyone at the town hall heard what you and Victor Maplehurst agreed on. If he’s reneged on that promise, then maybe he should come out and explain himself to everyone.”

Mayor Tillman tugged at the collar of his shirt. Thanks to his pudgy neck, those collars always seemed a little too tight, but right then, the thing looked as if it was about to throttle him.

“Mr. Maplehurst left for Portland this morning,” the mayor said. “He has a site in the Willamette National Forest that he needed to inspect.”

“That’s convenient,” I remarked. “Running away from the scene of the crime, huh?”

The mayor’s pale blue eyes bulged with indignation. “He wasn’t ‘running’ anywhere,” he said. “He’s a busy man with a number of properties he needs to manage. The only reason he was here in Silver Hollow at all was to speak to the residents and allay any fears they might have had regarding his operation.”

“Fears that seem pretty justified to me,” I returned, then rose from my chair. “And I’ll be sure to share with everyone what I saw last night.”

“Ms. Lowell — ”

It must have been a sign of his desperation that he’d addressed me like that, considering he’d known me since I was a little girl.

I didn’t bother to respond, however. No, I just swept out the door, head held high.

Time to go on the offense.

“They what?” Eliza said, staring at me in horror. The breakfast rush had passed, and it wasn’t quite time for the early lunch crowd to start showing up, so she was alone in the café.

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