Chasing Tail

by Roxanne St Claire

  “Well, if you do anything to Ambrose Avenue, please find the money for repairs. It’s cracking in half.” Nellie tapped the town council report. “The entire infrastructure of the town is under duress. I don’t have enough books in the library, the sheriff’s department is stretched to the limit during those events, the square is starting to look seedy, and all of our precious resources are being used up.”

  “I’m going to make sure the people of Bitter Bark know I can address all of that,” Sadie said as she flipped the pad closed, ready to get to work and bring the hour-long meeting to an end. “Thanks for the insight, Nellie. I may run some things by you before I go public with any ideas.”

  “Please do.” She brightened, standing up. “You’re exactly what we need, Sadie,” she gushed softly. “No one respects history more than I do, but sometimes I feel like Bitter Bark is stuck in the fifties, when the town had its first boom.”

  “There is a certain charm to its quaintness, though,” Sadie mused as she slipped her bag on her shoulder and tucked the files and pad under her arm. “The trick is to keep Bitter Bark precious, but still allow for natural growth that helps everyone.”

  “Yes.” Nellie came around the desk, her gaze dropping over Sadie, top to bottom. “I can’t believe how lucky we are to get someone from a big city here. You are just what the Bitter Bark doctor ordered.”

  “Oh, thanks,” she said, a little self-conscious.

  “Maybe you can drop in on a few of our local clothing boutiques and give them some pointers on current fashions, too. Except for La Parisienne—and her clothes are usually way too expensive for most people—our retailers think last decade’s looks are just fine. You should stop in and see Yvette, the owner. It’s right where the Downtown Dresses used to be, do you remember?”

  “Downtown Dresses?” She laughed softly. “I used to shop there with my mom. Every year I’d get an Easter dress there.”

  Nellie smiled. “How is your mom, Sadie? Does she ever come to town to see her parents?”

  Sadie adjusted her notes and files and gave a tight smile. “She lives out West and doesn’t get back here much. And she’s fine, thank you.”

  “Does she still paint? I remember doing a library display of her watercolors one year when I was the assistant librarian. She was quite talented.”

  “She does,” Sadie said vaguely, only she wasn’t quite sure if that was true. She lived with a painter, so maybe.

  “Tell her I said hello. And thanks for coming to see me,” Nellie said as they walked out and parted at the double glass doors.

  Sadie stepped into the late afternoon sun, glancing down to navigate the cracks in three stone stairs to the street, making a mental note to check that maintenance budget.

  “Watch your step.”

  She looked up at the man’s voice and nearly did trip at the sight of Mitch Easterbrook coming out of the next building, shocking her a little so fresh on the heels of a conversation about her mother.

  “Thanks for the tip,” she said, glancing behind him to see he’d just left the offices of the Bitter Bark Banner.

  He closed the space between them, coming within a foot of her. “You want another one?”

  “Not particularly.”

  He gave her a dismissive, dirty look. “You won’t win, Mercedes. And neither will your fake firefighter boyfriend.”

  “Oh, he’s a real firefighter,” she shot back, lifting her chin to meet his penetrating gaze.

  “You can’t come in here and steal this from me.”

  She sucked in a breath. “Steal this…oh, that’s rich. Like you didn’t steal my family from me.”

  He locked his jaw so tight, she could see a muscle throb. “Let’s get one thing very clear, young lady. You have something on me, and I know it. But I suspect there’s plenty from your colored past that we could find, too.” He angled his head, making her wonder if he was tipping it toward the Banner. Had he been in there suggesting they dig into her life in Washington? Trying to prove the engagement was fake?

  “Are you threatening me?” she asked.

  “I’m informing you.” He crossed his arms and glared down at her. “I have waited years for this. Years. I lived through the endless Frank Wilkins regime and watched in horror when his wife got the pity votes in an emergency election after Frank croaked.”

  “Croaked? Is that how you talk about the dead you bury?”

  “Don’t even think about mocking five generations of undertakers. My name is embedded in this town, and that mayor’s office is mine. So pull your stunts and spread your rumors about me and your mother, but nothing is going to stop me from winning.”

  “And you don’t care who you take down in the process.” All he was doing was making her certain that running for mayor was the smartest decision she’d ever made, and if she had to fake an engagement to keep him out of the office, she would.

  “No,” he said flatly. “But coming from Washington, DC, I’m sure you know that’s how politics works. It’s dirty, it’s tricky, and sometimes people lose.”

  “They sure do,” she agreed. “So brace for that, Mitch.” She sidestepped him to end the conversation, watching the cracks in the sidewalk so she didn’t trip. But the truth was, the land mines in the local population could be far more treacherous.

  Chapter Eleven

  From his vantage point by Thad’s statue, Connor caught sight of Sadie just when she came into the square, walking briskly toward town hall for their chance to talk to the media.

  Before he headed off to meet her, he took a minute to appreciate today’s outfit and the woman who wore it so well.

  “Tight slacks and high heels,” he said to Frank, who was more interested in sniffing the grass. “Definitely one of my favorite looks.”

  She also wore a pink jacket with black trim that made her look sharp and tailored, with some kind of soft knit top underneath that draped over her breasts in a way that somehow managed to be professional but extremely feminine.

  “And that hair,” he murmured, tugging the leash. “Come on, Frank. You gotta appreciate fine fur.” Burnished like bronze, all thick and long, her hair cascaded everywhere, making it impossible for Connor not to want to get his hands in it.

  Frank barked as he saw her. “You recognize her? Good boy.” He patted his head and started walking toward her. “Gotta say, I like our fiancée, Frankendog.”

  And from the way her step slowed and her dimples deepened with a smile when she saw him, she liked him, too.

  “Look at you,” she teased with just enough flirt in her voice for him to know she was admiring him with the same level of concentration he’d used on her. “Dress clothes two days in a row.”

  “No tie for Frank or me, though. Not after a twelve-hour shift.”

  Her mouth opened into a little O of surprise. “You didn’t sleep last night?”

  “I did, because we only had one call all night,” he told her, reaching for her hand because he just wanted to touch some skin, though he covered the move by lifting it to check for the ring. “Didn’t drop it down the sink, I see.”

  She laughed. “I can babysit a diamond, believe me. Why aren’t you lingering right outside Mayor Wilkins’s office, ready to pounce on the media when they leave her briefing?”

  “Without you? Why would I do that?”

  “To get extra time? To deliver your key messages? To make them fall in love with this guy?” She reached for Frank, but he circled around to Connor’s other side.

  “Why would I want any time without you? I actually don’t know what a key message is. And the only love on the agenda is ours, remember? We’ve got an engagement to sell.” He dipped closer. “By the way, fiancée, you are very, very pretty today. Betrothal suits you.”

  She flushed a little at the compliment. “Thank you. And you really should have one key message other than, you know, dogs.”

  He threw Frank a look. “He’ll bark it out for me.”

  “Connor,” she said on a sigh
. “I’ve been studying this town and the issues. I don’t want to make you look like you’re, you know, a lightweight.”

  He snorted and then broke into an actual laugh. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “It’s just that you should have more to talk about than the dogs. There’s more to Bitter Bark than being dog-forward.”

  “Dog-forward? Can I use that? It’s got a nice ring to it. And so does this.” He lifted her hand. “So show it off. Word on the street is that people wonder if we’re making this up.”

  “We are making this up.”

  He shot her a look. “You want Easterbrook to win on a forfeit?”

  All humor evaporated from her expression. “God, no. I saw him coming out of the Banner yesterday.”

  “Yeah, they already ran a story. Didn’t you see it?”

  She shook her head slowly. “Dang, I’m off my game not reading the morning paper. I was studying my notes about congestion and parking.”

  “Rose Halliday wrote it,” he said. “Smartest reporter they have. The story was straight-up news about your candidacy and our engagement, but the subtext of doubt was in every line.”

  She nodded. “Will she be here?”

  “She’s here,” he said. “I asked Chloe to check the mayor’s office sign-in for me.”

  “Helps to have friends in high places,” she mused.

  “Helps to read the local paper.”

  “Touché, Lieutenant.”

  They reached the perimeter of the square, and he nodded toward a half-dozen reporters, some with cameras, at the top of the stairs.

  “They’re out of the mayor’s briefing,” Connor said.

  “Who are all these people?”

  “In addition to Rose—she’s the dark-haired lady in the red dress—it looks like someone from the local TV affiliate, a radio guy, and a couple of journalism undergrads from the Vestal Valley College newspaper. Not a Washington-level media mob.”

  “How do you know them all?”

  “They come to our calls, especially if there’s news.”

  “Oh, of course.” She squared her shoulders and tightened her grip on his hand as they crossed the street. “Still, that’s a lot of people to lie to.”

  As they reached the bottom of the town hall steps, he turned her toward him. “Think one thought, okay?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Easterbrook can’t win.”

  “Now that I know,” she agreed. “And to that end, I’m ready to talk about town maintenance, the budget, a traffic proposal, and how we can upgrade the lights in Bushrod Square.”

  “You won’t get to do any of that if you—or Frank—lose. And if they don’t believe us, we could lose even if we win the vote.”

  “But I still have to talk about the issues, Connor. This is an election.”

  “I thought you knew so much about small-town government.”

  “I do, but—”

  “People come before politics.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And here comes the media.” He dipped his head, put his lips on hers, and gave her a featherlight kiss, but held it for two, three, four long heartbeats until they were surrounded.

  “Is this engagement a hoax?”

  “Are you faking it to meet the election requirements?”

  “If it’s not real, you might have to forfeit a win. Do you realize that?”

  “Are you so afraid of Mitch Easterbrook that you have to lie about your relationship in order to win?”

  “Is she going to marry the dog, too?”

  Connor broke the kiss, keeping one hand on Sadie’s shoulder and the other gripped around the leash when Frank barked and then did his level best to get between Connor’s legs. “One at a time, ladies and gentlemen. Journalists with treats do get preferential treatment.”

  He led Sadie up a few steps so they could be slightly higher than the reporters, earning a quick glance of surprise and appreciation.

  Like maybe he wasn’t exactly the lightweight she thought he was. That everyone thought he was.

  “Rose Halliday with the Bitter Bark Banner,” the reporter announced, taking the lead and directing her words to Sadie. “Is it true you are not a resident of Bitter Bark?”

  Sadie smiled. “Hello, Rose. Nice to meet you. The fact is that I grew up here, lived here more than half my life, and have owned a home in Ambrose Acres since 2002.”

  More than half her life? Connor did some quick math and decided that was probably true…by one year.

  “And I’ve known her since high school,” he added. “Did you know that? We go back, what, seventeen years, Sadie?”

  The reporter ignored him. “And do you know that the third candidate, Mitchell Easterbrook, has uncovered a law that says neither one of you is technically qualified to run?”

  “Not true,” Connor said.

  “If you’re really engaged,” Rose shot back, her hard stare on Sadie. “And let’s face it, your opponent here isn’t exactly boyfriend material.”

  Sadie drew back and leveled the woman with the same hard stare. “He’s not? He is kind, funny, courageous, and beloved by his entire family.” She waited a beat, then added, “And will you look at that tail?”

  She gestured to Frank with a masterful deflection of the question, but when the light laughter quieted, she added a smile to Rose. “If, however, you’re talking about my fiancé? Well, Connor is a firefighter, an EMT, and a first responder who is coming off a twelve-hour shift.” She turned to him and gave him a slow once-over. “And he still kind of takes your breath away, doesn’t he?”

  Connor returned her smile. “How could I not marry this woman?”

  “Mitch Easterbrook is insisting that this relationship is fake.” This came from a college student wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the Vestal Valley Coyotes imprint. “I’m with the Coyote Call,” he added.

  “Mitch Easterbrook is a fake.” Sadie and Connor said the words in perfect unison, cracking up the entire group.

  “At least you’re in agreement on that,” another reporter said.

  “We’re in agreement on a lot of things,” Connor said. “Like adding a few more dog parks.”

  “And parking lots,” Sadie said. “And I don’t mean Ambrose Avenue on the weekend.”

  “No kidding,” another man said. “I’m with KVVC radio, the sound of Vestal Valley County. My family and I tried to come into town to shop last Saturday and literally spent twenty minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic.”

  “Are you going to address those problems as a couple, then?” Rose prodded. “And should your engagement be exposed as a hoax, would you be willing to drop out of the race?”

  “Why would we?” Sadie asked her. “It’s always an advantage to have as many qualified candidates to choose from as possible.”

  “But are you technically engaged?” someone called out.

  Sadie lifted her hand and let the diamond sparkle. “Anything technical includes…hardware.”

  The crowd laughed lightly, and she reached to try to draw Frank out. “Let’s not forget my real opponent,” she said. “Come on, boy. Do you have those treats, Connor?”

  He dug into his pocket and found the bag, giving her a look of appreciation as genuine as the one he got from Frank.

  While they gathered their wits, he smiled down at her. “I underestimated you, Ear Girl,” he said softly.

  “What did you call her?” Rose asked.

  “Oh, just a secret pet nickname.” He patted her shoulder. “Because ‘honey’ is so ordinary for someone with such extraordinary ideas.”

  Sadie laughed easily as a reporter with a camera on his shoulder made his way to the front, while a small group of onlookers started to gather.

  “Rolling,” he said. “Can you tell us how you plan to balance your engagement with running against each other?”

  “Love conquers all, right?” she said, giving Frank’s head a tender stroke and Connor’s heart an unexpected tug. “We both take deep pride
in Bitter Bark, the history of this great town, and the happiness of its amazing people.”

  Damn, she was good. And Frank seemed to catch the fever, swishing his tail, making the crowd ooh and aww while the cameras whirred and clicked.

  “How do you feel about running against a nonhuman?” a reporter asked her.

  “And he doesn’t mean Mitch Easterbrook,” someone from the crowd yelled out, getting a smattering of laughter.

  Sadie didn’t laugh, though, but she kept her hand on Frank’s head. “To be honest, I see the appeal of a ceremonial dog mayor for Bitter Bark. Dogs are our bread and butter in many ways. But I think they have changed the dynamics of the town, and I’ve talked to people who want to solve the new problems, like congestion and even crime. As mayor, I hope to do that.”

  “And you, Frank?” someone asked the dog.

  Connor stepped forward. “What Frank—and I—don’t want to do is lose the energy and vitality Bitter Bark has found in the last few years. His very presence will increase fundraising at our many events, and he spreads the joy.”

  Frank answered by standing on his hind legs and thrusting his paws at Connor, getting a reaction from the crowd.

  “Obviously, we want to send the message that we’re…” Connor eased him to the ground. “Dog-forward.”

  “Dog-forward?” A reporter chuckled, writing down the quote. “I like that.”

  “Sadie’s idea,” he added quickly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “Wow, you two are a team,” the camera-holding guy said, his lens moving from one to the other.

  “We sure are,” Connor said, catching sight of Rose’s dubious expression, but he ignored it, pulling Sadie closer so they could be in the shots together.

  “Give her a kiss!”

  “One for the front page!”

  “Show us it’s real!”

  The hecklers from the crowd were getting serious now, making Connor and Sadie share a long look. For a moment, he forgot everyone else was there as he took a trip into the depths of those golden-brown eyes. He didn’t know what he’d expected today, but it hadn’t been this.