Rebecca Zanetti - Against the Wall

Her cell rang just as she walked inside the cool interior, and she quickly said hello.

“Hi, Sunshine. There’s a two-hour break in my trial today. Want to do lunch?” Jake asked.

She fought an involuntary smile. “Um, maybe. It depends if I’m done by then.”

“Where are you?”

“Meeting with Concerned Citizens.” A woman up front waved, and Sophie started up the aisle toward the tall blonde in tan capris and a high-collared blouse.

“In Mineral Lake?”

“No. About fifteen miles outside of the town.”

Silence filled the air for a couple of beats. “Not the Concerned Citizens for Rural Development Group.”

“One and the same.”

“By yourself?” Jake’s voice dropped to a low tone.

“Um, yeah.” Her steps faltered.

“Soph.” Exasperation lived on his exhale. “Wait to go inside.”

“Too late. Have to go, ’bye.” She shut the phone and dropped it into her bag before extending her hand to the woman. “I’m Sophie Smith.”

“Judy Rockefeller.” Classically straight features in a pale, makeup-free face frowned as they shook hands. Maybe Sophie shouldn’t have come alone.

“So, where do you want me?” She shook off unease while people filed into the room and took their places on the benches. If the tribe refused to back her design, she needed support from county citizens. She stepped back from Judy.

Judy nodded to the closest metal chair behind the table. “You can sit there. Reverend Moseby will sit next to you, and my husband, Billy, will sit next to him. Billy is our president.”

“Okay.” Sophie dropped her bag to the floor and took a seat. “Do you want me to do a presentation or just answer questions?”

Judy waved at newcomers before turning back to Sophie. “Billy will talk for a bit, and then people will ask you questions. You don’t need to describe the proposal. Everyone has already studied the golf course plan from the county’s records.”

“The records? You mean the application for the conditional-use permit?” Sophie’s stomach danced uncomfortably as several eyes watched her from the audience.

“Yes,” Judy said.

A side door opened and two men entered. The first wore all black with a priest’s collar, his belly stretching the dark fabric until streaks of white showed through. Sharp blue eyes rested on Sophie. “Miss Smith, I’m Reverend Moseby.” He extended a beefy hand for her to shake, his ruddy face contrasting with his sparse white hair.

Sophie shook his hand and tried not to grimace at the dampened flesh surrounding her hand. She unobtrusively wiped her palm on her flowered skirt upon being released.

“I’m Billy Rockefeller.” The second man held out a hand and gave Sophie a firm shake. Judy’s husband wore his blue jacket with a presidential pin like a Masters champion. His perfect posture hinted at an unyielding spine.

He took his seat as the reverend approached the podium and opened the meeting with a recap of the previous month’s meeting, then everyone bowed their heads to pray.

“Please bless this wondrous gathering of these wondrous people out to protect the earth itself.” The reverend’s voice rose in pitch and volume. “And bless our guest today. Let her see the folly of destroying the God-given earth and all her bounty. Let Christ guide us, his hand firm and deadly if need be. May the might of the Lord fill us, guide us, and pummel those who oppose us.”

The group gave a collective amen as Sophie searched for the closest exit, her heart in her throat. Did he say “deadly”? The twangy song from Deliverance danced through her head. The reverend turned the podium over to Billy Rockefeller.

Billy stood and crossed to the podium, his black flack boots ringing loud and strong across the stage. Flack boots with a fancy jacket? Weird.

He rested both hands on the hard wood. “Thanks for coming out today, folks. The first item on the agenda involves the protection of the wolves in the area.”

Sophie felt the blood drain from her face when she noticed a handgun tucked casually into Billy’s waistband.

He continued. “At this point, the wolves are threatening our livestock—our very livelihood. What do we do to threats like that?”

“Eliminate them,” came the collective response.

Surely this wasn’t a veiled threat directed toward her.

Billy nodded. “There’s a trial going on over near tribal lands regarding this very thing. I’ll let you know the outcome as soon as I can.”

Sophie frowned. She felt safe disagreeing with the tribe; she felt anything but safe sitting like easy prey behind the metal table. What had she gotten herself into? She mentally shook her head. Boy, was her imagination going crazy.

Billy cleared his throat. “The second item on the agenda involves the new development proposal in front of the county commissioners. It includes a golf course. The designer, Sophie Smith, is here today to answer any questions.” He inclined his head toward Sophie.

A sandy blond–haired man with a thick goatee raised a hand, and Billy nodded at him. “I’m Fred Gregton. I’m wondering how much human life is worth to your development group?”

Sophie frowned. “I don’t understand your question, Mr. Gregton.”

“Of course you don’t. More traffic on the road from Maverick is going to kill somebody, Miss Smith. I’m just wondering if your development group gives a shit about that.”

A couple of people nodded.

“Well…” Sophie leaned forward, her heart beating rapidly. “It’s my understanding the traffic study conducted by the developer shows that the road is fine.”

“Bullshit.” Gregton spat on the floor.

Sophie’s temper began to stir among the fear.

Another hand went up, this one belonging to a middle-age woman in a denim jumper. “I’d like to know why you’re the only one here today. Where is the developer?”

Sophie floundered for an answer. “Their headquarters is in southern California.”

“But will more people go to the hearing?” the woman asked.

Sophie nodded. “I know one of the Group’s attorneys will be there, but I haven’t heard who else will attend.”

“So,” Gregton spoke up again as the crowd seemed to get restless, “we’re not important enough for them to meet with.”

“They sent me, Mr. Gregton.” Just how out-of-hand would this crazy group get? Sophie’s gaze flew to the door at the sound of hoofbeats outside. Great. More people to contend with.

Two imposing forms filled the doorway.

Sophie’s stomach stopped churning as Quinn and Colton strode inside and sat on the farthest bench from the dais. They’d both dressed in dusty jeans, denim shirts, scuffed boots, and cowboy hats, obviously having been working on the ranch.

“Are you a ranch hand or the sheriff today, Lodge?” Billy asked from his podium.

Quinn tipped back his gray Stetson and slowly pulled off his leather gloves, his dark gaze meeting Billy’s across the room. “I’m always the sheriff to you.”

Billy flushed a deep red and glared. “I find it interesting you’d attend today.”

“Why?” Colton settled back against the hard wood. “We’re concerned citizens.”

“Isn’t the tribe opposing the development?” Reverend Mosby asked.

Quinn shrugged. “Our attorney can describe our official position when he arrives.”

“Your attorney is coming?” Judy said from her seat in the front row.

“Yes. He was a bit farther away and asked us to come and save him a seat,” Colton said, his eyes warm on Sophie.

Sophie’s heartbeat slowed to a dull gallop. She was safe. At least for now. “Are there any more questions about the development?”

A young woman in faded calico raised her hand. “Have you done any studies about what the development will do to the local tax base? I mean, will our property taxes increase?”

Billy answered before Sophie could. “Of course they’ll go up, Jeanine. A high-end country club development with high-end homes right next door? We’ll all pay more just so out-of-towners have a place to golf for a couple of months in the summer.”

“What about the lake?” A twenty-something man with long blond hair, faded jeans, and a green flannel shirt hissed out. “Does anybody care that a golf course will do nothing but pollute Mineral Lake with fertilizers, sewer problems, and such? And what about water supply? Our wells go dry now. Add watering a golf course in, and we’re screwed.”

Sophie sat up and placed her hands on the table. “The plan calls for a type-one irrigation system, which basically recycles water, cleans it, and then reuses it to irrigate the golf course. Your wells won’t be affected.” A rumbling of disbelief filled the crowd as several people shook their heads. It didn’t matter what she said. The crowd didn’t want to hear it. Sophie’s heart sank. “Are there any more questions?”

Gregton raised his hand again, his eyes lasers through the dim light. “Yeah. How much was the commissioner’s bribes?”

A shadow fell across the aisle as Jake asked from the doorway, “What was that?” Danger coated his voice with a softness that slammed silence into the room.

Gregton shifted in his seat, and Sophie fought the urge to stand and cheer.

“Don’t tell me you represent the commissioners and are going to sue me for slander,” Gregton sneered.

“Yes, I do. And I will sue, if need be.” Jake took three steps into the room—all male animal in a deep navy suit with tan silk tie.

Gregton dipped his head toward Sophie. “You gonna sue me on her behalf, too?”

Jake’s eyes darkened to coal as he ran his gaze over her from head to toe. He turned back to Gregton and slowly shook his head, his jaw tightening to iron. “No. You insult her, and we’re stepping outside.”