Page 48 of Lion's Share
The auditorium at City Hall was more crowded than I’d seen it in months, with folding chairs arranged in hastily arranged rows and people still filing in through the double doors. Linda Fields stood on the stage at the front of the room next to an easel holding a poster board covered in what looked like newspaper clippings and printed emails. Her highlighted hair was styled in perfect waves, and she was wearing a navy blue blazer that had probably cost more than most people in Silver Hollow spent on their clothes in six months.
I spotted Eliza Cartwright near the front as well, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her usually cheerful expression had been replaced by something that was part resignation, part barely contained irritation, and it didn’t seem as if she’d seen the need to get dressed up, since she was wearing her usual black flats and skinny jeans and a collared white shirt. That made sense; she wouldn’t get very far with this crowd if she pretended to be something she wasn’t.
Ben and I found seats toward the back, just as Linda called for everyone’s attention.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she began, her voice carrying easily across the room. “I know Monday evening isn’t ideal, but I felt it was important to address the crisis that’s been affecting our community.”
“Crisis?” someone called out from the middle of the auditorium. I thought it might have been Ray Mackinnon from the outdoor shop, although Ben and I were sitting far enough back that I couldn’t tell for sure. “It’s just some power outages, Linda. Hardly the end of the world.”
Linda’s smile tightened. “Is it ‘just’ power outages when the Henderson farm lost two goats to a wild animal attack because their security lighting failed? Is it ‘just’ inconvenience when our elderly residents can’t reach emergency services because the cell towers are down?”
A murmur went through the crowd. I noticed several people glancing around nervously, and I had to admit Linda had a point, even though I also knew the real cause of our problems wasn’t something municipal leadership could address.
“What happened to John and Patty’s goats was terrible,” Eliza said, standing up and turning to face the room. “But there’s no evidence that the power outage had anything to do with the attack. Wild animals don’t check to see if security lights are working before they decide to go on the hunt.”
“Don’t they?” Linda shot back. “I’ve done my research, Eliza. Predators avoid well-lit areas. If the Hendersons’ motion-activated floodlights had been working?— ”
“We don’t have those anymore,” John Henderson broke in from somewhere in the middle of the crowd. I didn’t see Patty next to him, so I guessed she’d stayed home with Harper. “They kept waking up our daughter, so we took them down.”
Linda’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t back off. “That’s just one example. What about Mrs. Loomis’s oxygen concentrator failing during last night’s outage? What about the dialysis clinic having to switch to backup power for the third time this month?”
The murmurs in the audience grew louder, and I saw several people nodding. Linda might have gotten her facts wrong about the Henderson farm, but she was right about the medical equipment issues, something I hadn’t even considered until Marjorie Tran had brought them up during her discussions with Ben.
“So what exactly are you proposing, Linda?” This question came from Tory Beacham, her voice sharp. “Because last I checked, the electrical grid isn’t controlled by City Hall.”
“No, but city leadership can demand accountability from PG&E,” Linda replied smoothly. She gestured toward her poster board. “I’ve been in contact with their regional office, and they claim there’s nothing wrong with their equipment. Which means either they’re lying, or there’s something else going on here that our current mayor hasn’t bothered to investigate.”
All eyes turned to Eliza, who looked like she was mentally counting to ten. “Jim Tillman is still the mayor for another few weeks, until we can hold the recall election,” she said evenly. “And he’s been in contact with PG&E as well. The problem is that when their engineers come out to investigate, they can’t find anything wrong with the system.”
“Then maybe we need to look beyond the obvious solutions,” Linda said. “Maybe we need leadership that’s willing to think outside the box and explore other possibilities.”
Ben tensed beside me. Linda’s phrasing came uncomfortably close to acknowledging that something supernatural might be affecting Silver Hollow’s infrastructure, even if she didn’t realize it.
“What other possibilities?” Eliza asked, hands on her hips and an air to her stance that seemed to signal she thought this was all an utter waste of time.
“Well,” Linda said as she consulted the tablet she’d been holding, “there have been reports of unusual electromagnetic readings in the area. Some kind of interference that could be affecting our electrical systems.”
My mouth went dry. How the hell had Linda Fields found out about the anomalous electromagnetic readings?
Next to me, Ben shifted on the hard folding chair where he sat. “And where exactly did you hear about these readings?” he asked, raising his voice so he could be easily heard.
Linda’s gaze found him in the crowd, and her expression turned almost cold. “I’ve been doing my homework, Mr. Sanders. Unlike some people, I don’t just assume that infrastructure problems will magically resolve themselves.”
Her use of the word “magically” made me pray she was only speaking in metaphors.
“I spoke with some federal investigators who are looking into the situation,” Linda continued when it seemed clear Ben didn’t have a ready reply to her comment. “They confirmed that there have been significant electromagnetic disturbances centered on our area. The real question is, what is our city government doing about it?”
After she posed that rhetorical query, the room erupted into competing discussions. Several people — I recognized Ethan Tierney and Joanna Lange, both of whom lived on the outskirts of Silver Hollow and therefore weren’t in the thick of things — demanded to know why they hadn’t been informed about the federal investigators who’d come to the town, Tom Lopez asked what “electromagnetic disturbances” even meant, and a group of older residents who lived in the town’s only apartment complex sounded genuinely worried about the health and safety issues connected to our current situation.
Eliza held up her hand for quiet, but it took several minutes for the crowd to settle down.
“Linda,” she said at length, “if you have information about federal investigations that might affect Silver Hollow’s residents, don’t you think you should have shared those facts with the current city administration instead of saving them for a campaign stunt?”
“I tried,” Linda replied, not looking the least bit ashamed. “Jim Tillman hasn’t returned any of my calls. Which is exactly the kind of leadership failure this town can’t afford.”
Eliza passed an annoyed hand through her short-cropped blonde hair. “So you decided to create a panic instead?”
“I decided to inform the voters.” Linda’s voice rose slightly as she continued. “The people of Silver Hollow have a right to know when their safety might be at risk. They have a right to leadership that will take these concerns seriously instead of hoping they’ll just go away.”
