Page 16 of Honey Be Mine
“Danger is a strong word.” Everett knew to tread carefully. “And we’rehostingthis event at the request of Sheriff Myers—who will be here presently.” He scanned the growing crowd for the man.
“All we can do is our due diligence. Keep our eyes and ears open. Make sure our security systems are up-to-date—add security cameras, if you’re able,” Mayor Contreras said.
“Some of us don’t have the budget for fancy security systems, Mr. Taggert.” Willadeene leveled a narrow-eyed glare his way. Willadeene’s friends sat around her, nodding—each of them puffed up with pride and self-importance. “Perhaps we could set up an anonymous tipline with theHill Country Gazetteinstead of using it to find dates, Mr. Taggert? Or should I say, Honey’s Most Eligible Bachelor?” She paused, appreciating the chuckles scattered throughout the room.
Leave it to Willadeene to make sure his humiliation was as far-reaching as possible.
Willadeene kept going. “It seems to me that we, the townspeople of Honey, should be able to rely on our mayor, city staff, and law enforcement to take care of this sort of thing. If we can’t, perhaps the townspeople need to consider finding leadership that can.”
There it was. The dramatic ultimatum. It’d happened faster than Everett had expected, but it still caused a ripple through the audience.
Mayor Contreras nodded. “And when elections roll around in six months, I encourage you to vote and let your voice be heard.”
There were a few laughs in answer to that, easing some of the mounting tension in the room.
“But now isn’t the time to divide the town, now is the time to pull together—to work together,” Everett said, glad to see such a big turnout.
He knew most of the people gathered. Other than his college years, he’d lived his whole life in Honey. While there were a few that insisted on speaking out for the sake of being heard, most of the townsfolk were good, reasonable people. Like his parents. Well, they were a little on the defensive side at the moment. His mother and father sat, whispering to one another and shooting daggers at the back of Willadeene’s head. They were protective of him—and it made him smile.
It was a relief to see Tansy Hill’s long-suffering eye roll and Dane struggling to hold back a chuckle. Rosemary was looking at the woman with a mix of alarm and amusement. Magnolia Hill, however, did not look the least bit amused.
“Until you tell us what’s being done, I think we have the right to speak up. So what is being done? Other than all of us just waiting to see who’s vandalized next?” Willadeene resembled a red-faced bulldog. “Mayor Contreras, I’d expect a more progressive plan from you.”
Everett stepped aside, all too happy for Honey’s mayor to take center stage. Robbie Contreras had served as mayor of Honey for two terms, and from what he’d told Everett, those two terms had given him a mild heart attack and an ulcer. That was why Everett had taken on more responsibilities—to help Robbie out. Few knew that Robbie wasn’t going to run for reelection. As far as Everett was concerned, that was a real shame. Robbie was a good man, and he’d been an excellent mayor.
“We’re coordinating with officials in Alpine Springs, Elginston, Rose Prairie, and Glendale, Miss Svoboda.” Mayor Contreras scanned the sheet of paper on the podium before him. “Local and state police are on alert. They suggest we implement a city watch—which they will provide the training for.”
“Security systems? City watch? So you’re expecting us to invest our time and money on something that may or may not happen?” Jed Dwyer managed Coffey Motors, right on the edge of Main Street. If the man wasn’t the best mechanic in three counties, no one would put up with him. He was a big man, known for being impatient, hotheaded—and raising three sons who seemed to be following in their father’s footsteps. “This has happened, what, two times? And it didn’t happen here, so I don’t see what the big deal is. This is a lot of fuss over nothing.” Jed crossed his beefy arms over his chest and leveled a hard stare Mayor Contreras’s way.
Everett had gone to school with Jed. And for a while they’d been friends. There’d been plenty of gossip surrounding Jed’s family. His philandering mother. His alcoholic and abusive father. Later, his mother dying and leaving the kids with their father. Jed had started picking fights in elementary school and kept picking them until high school graduation. Over the years, CPS had been involved a time or two, but Jed and his sister had never been taken away from their father. If Jed was a hard man, he had plenty of reason to be.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Dwyer.” Mayor Contreras’s smile was tight. “After talking with law enforcement, we felt it was prudent to share what was happening. The city watch program will be strictly volunteer. The more volunteers, the better. Miss Owens-Baldwin has a sign-up sheet for those willing to take the training.” He pointed across the room at the table where Libby sat, her ruby-red smile shiny under the fluorescent lights. “As I said, this is strictly volunteer. I know how supportive our community can be. I hope that sign-up list reflects that.”
Everett was relieved when the meeting finally wrapped. But even after the meeting had officially adjourned, people lingered. The tones ranged from concern to anger, but Everett did his best to offer hope and redirect the energy into something proactive—like signing up for the city watch. He was happy to see there was a line to sign up for the training. It was all the confirmation he needed that Jed and Willadeene were in the minority.
“Everett?” Leif Knudson, Dane’s younger brother, nodded a greeting. “I know you’re really busy and all, but do you have a second? I... We wanted to show you something.” His voice was low. “Kerrielynn found it.”
Kerrielynn nodded. “It was on Instagram. And TikTok.”
“Okay.” Everett followed the teens to a less-crowded corner of the room. “What’s up?”
Leif held up his phone. “It’s Alpine Springs.”
Everett watched the video. It was barely a minute long—long enough to show a couple of people in ski masks firing their paintball guns at what appeared to be one of Alpine Springs’s exercise installations. “Do we know whose account this is?” The last shot had part of the Alpine Springs’s City Park sign visible.
Kerrielynn shrugged. “No idea. It’s like a dummy account.”
The account,@paint.ballers, had been formed a week ago. He read aloud, “‘#PaintBallChallenge. Join me for #tagurit #paintballtag #tagthecountry.’ Well, this sucks.” This wasn’t the sort of news he was hoping for. “Can anyone find this online?” There were three other videos, too. He’d bet money one of them would show Elginston’s mural being defaced.
“Yeah. It’s a public account. And they’re getting a lot of followers, too. People posting their own #PaintBallChallenge videos.” Kerrielynn tucked her phone into her pocket. “It’s not viral, though.”
“Yet,” Leif added, too grave for Everett’s liking.
“You didn’t recognize anyone?” It was a long shot. The two in the video were wearing masks and the one shooting the video wasn’t visible—plus, no one had said a word.
Kerrielynn and Leif both shook their heads.
“I appreciate it. I’ll let Mayor Contreras know and share the info with law enforcement.” Would they be able to track down the culprits with such little information?
