by L. T. Ryan
“Sounds a lot like a bribe,” Bear said.
McKinnon didn’t correct him this time. “I can’t accept whatever you want to give me.” She paused a beat to let it set in. “No matter how generous. It’s against the law.”
“Nonsense.” Richter waved away the comment. “Your predecessor did it all the time. It’s not illegal if you’re enforcing the rules, right?”
McKinnon stiffened. “Councilman Richter, it’s time for you to leave. Thank you for the offer. I decline.”
Richter’s expression changed, and for the first time, Bear thought he saw the man’s true nature. “Please don’t do that, Sheriff McKinnon. This really is in your best interests.”
“I’m sure it is,” she said. “But my answer still stands.”
Richter looked like he wanted to argue, but McKinnon’s jaw was set in stone. The councilman nodded his head at both, tucked his phone away, and turned to leave. He paused halfway down the hall as though he wanted to try again but thought better of it and turned the corner.
Bear was grateful he was gone, but his gut was telling him this had been their last chance. They had just crossed the point of no return. HealTek would no longer play nice.
30
Mandy was halfway through second period on Monday morning before she realized half the school was avoiding her and the other half was talking about her. If Laura Lynn had been with her, she would’ve already gotten the scoop.
But Laura Lynn was fighting for her life in the hospital.
At first, that’s what Mandy thought they were all talking about. By now, the whole town knew that Laura Lynn was sick. No one mentioned it except in hushed whispers. Mandy hated that. Laura Lynn’s situation was already bad enough, she didn’t need people warping it into gossip.
Last night, Marcus had called Mandy to give her an update. Laura Lynn was stabilizing, but they were having trouble keeping her hydrated. It didn’t help that she couldn’t really eat on her own either, so they needed to find ways to give her enough nutrients. Marcus said his mom was confident they’d figure out how to make her better. Mandy had her doubts. Marcus’ mom didn’t know everything, and her line sounded like what you told your kid to make them stop worrying so much.
The school wasn’t talking about Laura Lynn. Or if they were, they weren’t shooting Mandy dirty looks because of her. By fifth period, Mandy knew something was wrong. Kids would move away from her in class, purposefully turn their backs on her. It’s not like she was friends with any of them to begin with, but the majority had always been at least neutral toward her.
In English, she asked Jessica Danvers for a pencil, and you would’ve thought Mandy had kicked her puppy. The other girl made a sound that could only have meant you disgust me, and it took all of Mandy’s willpower not to stick a piece of gum in her hair.
When lunch finally rolled around, she looked forward to sitting at a table in the corner, away from everyone else. She never had any interest in joining other people to eat, but today she was grateful not to have to interact with them.
A tickle of anxiety crawled up her neck like a spider at the thought of Marcus. She normally saw him in the hallway between classes. He’d been absent today.
A spike of fear rode in on the back of her anxiety. Was it possible he had gotten sick, too? She’d just talked to him last night. He had shown no signs. The thought calmed her down before she realized the tattooed man had followed her from Marcus’ house. They hadn’t been able to get a hold of Mandy. What about Marcus and his family? She doubted Marcus’ parents could protect him the way Bear protected her.
Mandy was so sick to her stomach with worry that she couldn’t eat her lunch. Normally, Marcus would’ve arrived by now, plopping his tray down next to her and regaling her with some weird sci-fi movie fact or an update on one of his many projects. She didn’t always understand what he was saying, but she liked he took the time to explain it to her. He never got mad at her questions, no matter how many she asked.
Halfway through lunch, Mandy started scanning the lunchroom in case she’d missed him walking in. Her heart sank. On the other side of the cafeteria, Marcus sat with two of his science club friends. She’d seen them around school before. They seemed nice enough. Laura Lynn was friends with them too, but they rarely hung out outside of class.
Mandy’s anxiety turned to confusion. Had he not seen her? Or maybe they were working on a project together that she didn’t know about. The three of them had their heads bent over something in the middle of the table. It looked like they were studying it intently. Every once in a while, Marcus would bring up his hand and do something, then they’d go back to staring at it.
Deciding she would not finish lunch, Mandy stood up and tossed her food in the garbage. She made her way over to Marcus’ table. When her shadow fell across the three boys, they looked up in unison. That’s when Mandy saw what they were staring at.
A phone.
“Hey.” Mandy’s voice was quiet and unsure. “I thought we were going to have lunch together today.” She didn’t add you know, like we do every day, even though she wanted to.
He looked away from her. “I had lunch with my friends instead.”
That was a strange way to put it. Marcus’ response didn’t leave room for questions, but Mandy had never been very good at keeping them to herself. “What are you looking at?”
“You mean you don’t already know?” Marcus asked. “That’s surprising.”
Mandy took a step back. His voice had never been so cold before. “What are you talking about? Know what?”
“Your Instagram.” He met her gaze now with steeled eyes. “Someone found it. Now everyone knows what you’ve been saying about them this whole time. You’re not a good person, Mandy.”
“I don’t have an Instagram.” Mandy hated that she sounded choked up. But she was shocked and hurt and frustrated. “I haven’t said anything about anyone.”
“I don’t want to sit with you today.” There was a finality in Marcus’ voice. “Or any day. I don’t want to be friends with you anymore. Not if that’s how you think of me. Not after everything I’ve done for you.”
Mandy didn’t know what to say. Tears threatened to spill over. The last thing she wanted was for Marcus and his friends to see her cry. Without another word, she turned on her heel and sped out of the cafeteria. The other kids were a blur as she raced down the hallway and into the bathroom. She went into one of the stalls a split second before the tears spilled down her cheeks.
There had been another girl washing her hands when Mandy had entered, so she kept her crying silent. She tried to take deep breaths to calm her breathing and her heart rate, but the tears never stopped flowing. She had to find something else to focus on to distract her from her feelings.
Mandy dumped her backpack on the ground and pulled out her phone. The school had instructions to always keep them in their lockers, but she liked to check it occasionally, in case something had happened and Bear needed her. They’d never know she kept it in there unless she gave a teacher a reason to go through her bag.
After downloading Instagram to her phone, Mandy made up a username and logged in. Then she searched for her own name. It wasn’t a very good secret account because the first result was exactly what she was looking for. There was a candid picture of her, grainy and a little blurry, as though they had taken it from a distance, maybe down the hallway. The bio read, “Mandy Logan. Unfiltered. Every day I’ll post a new description of my classmates.” The account had six followers, and it wasn’t following anyone in return.
The tears flowing down Mandy’s cheeks were now ones of anger. How could Marcus believe she’d do this? They hadn’t known each other for long, but she thought he understood her. She really thought they were friends.
Mandy scrolled down the page and clicked the first image. It was a rainbow background with text over the top that read, “Jessica Danvers is a fat pig. Someone should put her out of her misery. Oink, oink.” The caption had a li
ttle pig emoji, like one of the stupid ones Bear would send her when he couldn’t think of a witty reply. Or he thought he was being witty. Whatever.
Mandy wiped away her tears, now more in shock than anything. No wonder Jessica hadn’t wanted to give her a pencil this morning. The next post was about a person named Jordan Cox. The caption wasn’t clever. It infuriated her that anyone would think she couldn’t come up with a better line than that. Besides, she didn’t even know who Jordan was.
The third post made Mandy’s heart come to a shuddering stop. “Marcus Allman has such a big crush on me, and it’s so annoying. He’s such a pathetic little dweeb. How could he think I’d ever be interested in him? I’m just using him to pass math class, hahahaha.” There were two emojis in the caption, the smiley face with the nerd glasses, and the one where the hand was sticking up its middle finger.
But the next post made her want to throw her phone at the wall. “Laura Lynn Weinberger deserves to die.” Several skull emojis followed it.
Mandy’s sob surprised her. The sound reverberated around the bathroom, and she held her breath, trying to be as quiet as possible. Had the other girl left yet? Had anyone else come in? She didn’t hear anyone make a noise.
The phone felt like hot metal in her hands. She backed out of the Instagram app and then held her finger down on the little icon. Deleting it would be the only way to purify her phone after that, and she didn’t hesitate. She had no interest in reading the rest of the posts. That would make things worse.
Mandy sat down on the lid of the toilet with a huff. The pain in Marcus’ eyes made sense now. Part of her wanted to run back into the cafeteria and convince him she had nothing to do with this. But she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. He was too hurt right now, and he wouldn’t listen to anything she said. Especially if his friends were there telling him to just ignore her.
The bell rang. Mandy jumped. She could hear kids scuffing their feet outside the bathroom door. It opened a couple of times as girls came in and went out again, trying her stall to see if it was occupied. She just stayed silent, waiting for them all to leave. The bell rang again.
She’d be late for her next class. Did she care? No. She wouldn’t go back out there with tears in her eyes. She’d hold her head high and pretend it didn’t bother her, even if it killed her inside. It was bad enough Laura Lynn was sick and couldn’t come to school. Mandy had lost Marcus, too.
For the first time in a month, she felt completely and utterly alone.
31
Bear had never been so grateful to a truck. He had picked it up from the shop as soon as they opened, barely reading over the bill before he signed it and handed over his credit card. He snatched his keys from the kid in the front office, headed outside, and jumped behind the wheel. It smelled like maple syrup. Bear couldn’t think of anything but pancakes.
Georgie’s Diner was packed. Business was booming. He’d hadn’t been in since finding Katie’s body. The rumors had spread fast. Bear wasn’t what you’d call a social butterfly. The only real conversations he’d had besides with Mandy had been with McKinnon. Everyone else wanted to talk about him, not with him.
When Bear sat himself in a corner booth, a hush fell over the diner. Then the whispers grew louder. Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered him much—he was used to sticking out in a crowd—but it made him antsy.
A line from Carl Donovan’s letter played over and over in his head: You’re making it worse.
Caroline brought Bear his usual cup of coffee, but it wasn’t accompanied by her trademarked smile today. “The usual?”
Bear thought she sounded off. He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Maybe the diner’s other patrons had him on edge. “Pancakes and double bacon, with scrambled eggs and wheat toast.” He smiled up at her. “Thanks, Miss Caroline.”
She nodded and returned to the back. Bear could see her chatting with George, who looked at him with tight lips and narrowed eyes. He nodded his head once, and Caroline left the back, walking around the counter and heading to her other tables. Several people avoided eye contact with Bear as he looked around the diner.
The chatter eventually picked up again. It felt normal, except for the occasional death glare. Bear was used to them by now and it wouldn’t put him off his breakfast. In fact, he held the gaze of anyone who tried to stare him down. They weren’t gonna win that contest.
Besides, what did they have to be so mad about? Even if he was making their lives more difficult, wasn’t it for the right reasons? He wanted to know what had happened to a girl who had died fifteen years ago. He wanted to figure out why another girl was sick. He could understand why they wanted to stay out of the situation, but at what expense? Where was the line?
Apparently, the situation hadn’t warranted them crossing it yet.
A few minutes later, Caroline returned with a plateful of food. She topped off his coffee and walked away without another word. When Bear pulled the plate closer, he found a piece of paper wrinkled underneath. He grabbed it and unfolded it.
Stay sharp.
The handwriting was sloppy, like they had written it in a rush. Bear looked up and saw Georgie staring at him. The other man watched Bear for a moment, then looked away. The look in George’s eyes told Bear everything he needed to know.
The town was turning against him. They didn’t like Bear sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. George liked Bear and was giving him a warning. But George wouldn’t get in the middle of the situation. Neither would Caroline. Whether they agreed with Bear’s actions, he wasn’t sure, but this was as much of a head’s up as he was gonna get.
Two men stood from their table and approached Bear. They looked like brothers, both with sandy brown hair and pale blue eyes. They had patchwork beards and crooked teeth. Their jeans and flannels were dirty and worn. He couldn’t remember their names, but George had pointed them out when Bear had first arrived.
Not a single brain cell between two of them, he’d said. But you’d be an idiot to pick a fight.
Bear had taken that as a challenge. The juvenile side of him had wanted to know if he could go toe to toe with the Meathead Brothers. But the other half knew it wasn’t such a good idea. Even if nobody liked these guys, the town would take the brothers’ side over Bear’s. Familiarity bred some loyalty.
Bear picked up a piece of bacon and shoved it into his mouth. “Can I help you, fellas? Last I saw, Scarecrow was heading south.”
Meathead One screwed up his face. “We don’t need no scarecrows.”
Bear washed his bacon down with some coffee. “It’s a Wizard of Oz reference, pal. Come on.” He batted his gaze between the two of them. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it? It’s a classic.”
“We’re not your pal,” Meathead Two said. “We want you to leave.”
“Look, I’m just trying to eat my breakfast in peace. I’ll go when I finish. Scout’s honor.”
“We want you to leave now,” one said.
“I want you to listen to what I’m saying. I’ll go slower this time: When I’m done, I’m gone.”
“You’re done when we say you’re done.”
“That’s not how that works.” Bear cut off a neat piece of his pancake and popped it into his mouth. “What exactly is the problem here?”
“You’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“What’s it to you?” He wanted an actual answer. “It’s no skin off your nut sack.”
“Don’t matter,” Two said. “We ask you to do something, you do it.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna work here, fellas.” Bear sized them up, knowing he was taller, even if they were wider. He’d be faster, too, but the curve of their noses told him they’d taken a few punches. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
“Too bad.”
Bear lifted his coffee to his lips. He wouldn’t satisfy them with any further conversation, and it seemed like they picked up on the hint.
Meathead One smacked the mug ou
t of his hands, sending hot coffee and ceramic shards all over the floor. The noise in the diner vanished.
Before Bear could exit the booth, Caroline was between them, pushing the brothers away and smacking them with a towel. They immediately backed up, flinching every time she whipped them in the face.
“You two leave him alone, or so help me, I will call your mother right now.” She was red in the face. “Don’t think you’re too old to get a beating from her. If you don’t sit back down right now—”
Bear tried to stifle a laugh.
After Caroline drove the two men back to their seat, she returned to Bear. Her voice was quiet, but it cut like a knife. “And you.”
“Me?”
She shook her head and knelt, gathering the bigger chunks of his mug in her skirt. “You. I know you think you’re trying to help, but you’re just stirring the pot. It’s not doing anyone any good. Least of all, us.”
“I’m not the one—”
“You knew what you were doing coming in here.” She stood up and tossed the shards into the garbage. When she turned back to him, the color had drained from her face. “You’re a good man.” She was even quieter now. Her voice wobbled. “George and I hold nothing against you. But you gotta understand that the people in this town stick together. They don’t always see reason. Don’t always see the bigger picture. They’re more concerned about the here and now than the future.”
“I never intended to cause trouble, Miss Caroline.” The heat had left his voice. “Not for you and George.”
“I know.” Caroline stepped closer to the table. “But people are afraid for their livelihoods. Everyone’s made a deal with the devil here. You can’t blame them for being afraid of seeing everything they’ve worked for go down the drain.”
She had a point. The town had slipped into bed with HealTek a long time ago. Parents passed the deed onto their children. If Bear upset the balance by taking the company on, who knew what would happen to the town.
