JESSIE

This morning it finally happened. I couldn’t fit into my favorite old pair of jeans. The really loose, baggy ones.

I stood in front of the mirror and stared at my belly sticking out over the stretched out ‘V’ of the zipper and wanted to, well, cry. Okay, I know, I’m not fat, I’m pregnant. But that argument has no effect when so much is about to happen that’s going to change my life forever. Yeah, yeah, I should be saying our lives; me, Lachlan, the baby, the wedding …

Good Lord, the wedding. In one week I’ll be married. In a few short months I’ll be a mother. I don’t know why the reality is suddenly sending me into a tailspin of emotions, because honestly, I’m so in love with Lachlan that I can barely see straight sometimes. I’ve always wanted this; the wonderful husband, a beautiful baby, the big rambling house away from the craziness of the city, to be surrounded by family and friends. It’s all been handed to me on a silver platter and yet I still find something to obsess about. 

Maybe it’s just that Lachlan doesn’t seem nervous or out of sorts at all, while I’m feeling like a basket case. I watched him this morning over breakfast, humming a tune as he poured his coffee, a sweet grin tugging on the corners of his lips as he started to tap out a beat on the countertop with his fingertips.

Mesmerized, I watched him for a few moments, torn between grinning over the way his hair kept flipping into his eyes and feeling irritated that he’s so laid back about everything. 

“How can you be so calm?”

He turned to look at me as he took a sip of his coffee. “Hmmm … calm about what?”

He had to be joking.

“Am I the only one around here who’s nervous about the wedding? How can you be so … relaxed?” And why was he looking at me like I had antlers growing out of my head?

He grabbed a bagel from the toaster oven and came over to sit beside me at the table. “Are you having second thoughts?”

For a moment I thought he was being serious, and then he grinned. “Seems to me that the wedding’s the easiest part.”

Well, yeah, when compared to everything else, but still … “But you seem so calm about everything else, too. The baby, the renovation …”

“Should I not be calm?”

I sighed. “I want to be calm, too.”

“Then just tell yourself to stop worrying, and that everything’s going to just fine. It’s that simple.” He reached for the butter and spread a big glob of it on top of his bagel. “You want the other half?”

I shook my head. “So I’m being a worry wart, is that what you’re saying?”

He sat his bagel down on the table and took a good look at me. “I think you’re making yourself crazy. You’re looking for things to go wrong.”

“Maybe, but I just want everything to be perfect.”

He leaned over and kissed me. “Maybe it already is.”

LACHLAN

As far as I’m concerned, everything is perfect. I’m marrying the girl I love, we’re going to have a baby and I’m having the time of my life working on this old house of ours. What’s to worry about, really? I’m surrounded by friends and family and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. As many questions as I’ve had about my past, I’ve decided to not worry about it for now and just concentrate on the present and look forward to the future.

Truth is, I’m busy and enjoying the hell out of myself. I wake up in the morning and get going on our long list of projects; repairing the inlaid wood flooring in the living room, meeting with the code inspectors, laying tile in our new master bathroom. Tomorrow the chimney sweep and his crew arrive and with a little luck, we’ll have at least one serviceable fireplace this fall and winter until the others can be repaired in the spring. Then next week, the plasterers will start work on repairing the ceiling on what will be the nursery, and then Jessie can concentrate on the decorating and painting. The backyard is starting to look less like a haunted jungle and more like a place for us to entertain our family and friends. At the end of the day I’m exhausted but feel like I’m really accomplishing something. And having Jessie in bed beside me with her growing belly … well, what more could I possibly ask for?

KIM

Emily had a meeting in town this morning, so I drove on to work without her. I was curious over whom she was meeting and the reasons behind it, but she didn’t offer any explanations and I decided to wait until later to ask. See, I’m trying to show her that I can resist the temptation and not behave like a controlling jerk. After all, it’s probably just something she’s putting together for the Inn and she wants to surprise me. I don’t want to take anything from her if she has the ambition to put together some sort of presentation for Riley and John that’ll showcase a new way to increase revenue.

Problem was, the office was too quiet without her. When I asked her what time she’d be coming in to work all I received was a vague sometime before lunch. So, I made coffee, listened to last night’s voice mails and skimmed through my e-mail. That took all of twenty minutes, so with the whole morning looming ahead of me and not quite feeling ready to tackle any pressing business, I decided to stroll on over and check out the construction site and see what things looked like. I grabbed Emmy’s hard hat from the corner of her desk and made a couple of adjustments to the head band, grinning over how small her head was compared to mine.

 The morning was warm and I was greeted by a couple members of the construction crew as I came closer. They were more than happy to give me a quick run down of their progress, and I was bloody surprised at just how much work had been completed in such a short time. As I made my way back to the office after receiving a mini tour, I realized just how much additional revenue this project was going to create and I grew curious again over Emmy’s meeting.

She arrived to the office a little before eleven, her cheeks flushed and her eyes even more sparkly than usual as she tossed her briefcase onto her chair and smiled at me in greeting.

“I take it your meeting was successful?”

She shrugged her shoulder and went to pour herself a cup of coffee. “Oh, I don’t know; it was interesting. I met with this headhunter from a firm in New York and he was telling me about some positions opening up that I might be interested in.”

My heart started to pound.  “You’ve never mentioned anything about wanting to work in New York.”

“I never thought I’d want to, but maybe I’m cheating myself if I don’t at least think about it. I mean, who knows? Maybe something interesting will come out of it.”

I just smiled and forced myself to nod, not really sure that I’d be able to come up with anything positive to say. Why do I feel this sudden grip of dread?

DAISY

Bzzz … bzzz …bzzz …

Someday, I swear I’m gonna shoot that alarm. Switching it off, I noticed it was 10:30 am and rolled over with a groan. It had been a long night, between the rowdy party in the pub until very late and dreams of ghosts, the Inn, Gemma and Cory … I hardly got any sleep. I sat up, rubbed my eyes and noticed something else out of place; I was alone. Cory was already gone. Fuck.

I was sleeping while showering when it hit me … I still had to clean up from last night. We closed so late; I just did the minimal wipe down before heading up to bed. Now, I had to clean it thoroughly before we could open. Shit-Damn-Crap-Fuck. I rushed through my routine and stumbled downstairs to get an early start. But, the place was spotless! All the glasses put away, bottles in place, counters wiped down. Clean as a whistle. I turned round on my toes, mouth agape and taking in everything. Imagine my shock when I turned back to the bar and HE as sitting at his usual barstool, grinning. I nearly had to be scraped from the ceiling, I jumped so high. The damn ghost just grinned.

I narrowed my eyes. “You know you’re not real, right?”

He tilted his head and eyed me up and down. “What do you think?” he challenged.

“Fuck!” I hissed. “I can’t take this shit anymore.” I rushed to the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges. As I ran down up the steps, I heard Brian yell, “You can run but you can’t hide, Daisy doll!” and his laughter echoed in the stairwell.

I had to leave. Gotta get away from this place and its spooks, so I got into the car and headed out to see Jess. Being the new girls, we kinda bonded when she and Lachlan were at the Inn. I haven’t seen her since they bought their new place, so I thought I’d pop in for a chat and hopefully distract myself.

It was great! Jess has always been fun to hang with, although at the moment she was a bit busy, what with the wedding and baby plans and all. Even so, she was happy to see me and show off this big ‘ole beautiful house of hers. We were having a great time, too, until we went out to the yard.

“You should’ve seen it, Daisy. It was so overgrown; it took the gardeners a couple of days just to clean out the weeds.” She was excitedly pointing out the new plants and bare spots to be cultivated next spring.

“What’s this?” I pointed to an ugly, odd looking tree in a corner of the yard. It didn’t have any leaves, just wild branches going every which way and covered in thick, sharp spines.

“Oh, it’s a Monkey Puzzle tree. I wanted to take it down but the gardener convinced me to keep it. I’m actually getting to like it now.”

I took a closer look. It was so strange. There were lights whizzing around the tree, through the branches and hovering. I looked around for the projector, but didn’t see one. “How do you get the lights to work?” I marveled.

“What lights?”

“The lights around the tree. They’re kinda cool, but how do you get them to show up in the daylight?”

Jess looked at the tree, brows furrowed, then back at me. “There aren’t any lights around the tree, you goof.” She moved on to where they were gonna put the pool in, but I have to admit I wasn’t listening. Those lights had me spooked!

WADE

I was already exhausted and it wasn’t even high noon. I went into town like I always do in the mornings. Went for my free cup of coffee at that little shop and headed for a stroll down Main Street. What used to be friendly conversations with folks that helped me get an idea about just what the hell the town wanted from a sheriff, had gotten real strange since those posters went up.

There were reporters from Burlington and as far away as Philadelphia and New York City stopping me on the street … asking about the robbery I stopped and saying I made great ‘human interest fodder’ … whatever that meant.

People who talked to me were no longer being so nice about giving me their ideas of a good sheriff, they were demanding I tell ‘em what kinda sheriff I was gonna be, what my  platform was and I turned a scowl to Cory … who was always at my shoulder.

Cory leaned close and whispered. “We’ll get that all solid later; just tell them you’ll do a press conference on Friday. That should quiet them ‘til you have a grasp on your platform.”

It wasn’t real helpful but I did just that, explaining that I was gonna give a speech on Friday. Now the questions got worse.

“Where, Mr. Wade?” … “What time?” … “Will you cover the mall issue?” … “Is Mr. Biebe gonna speak too?”

I smiled real nice and waved a hand. “Lemme get back to you one that.”

Thankfully, Cory stepped up and shouted; the crowd was almost dangerously close and tight, startin’ to feel like a crazed posse. “Listen! Listen, Mr. Wade’s campaign manager will announce the time and location of Friday’s press conference. Keep an eye on the Stowe Reporter, it’ll be in there.” He gripped my arm tight and hissed. “S’go. We gotta get away from these shitbirds.”

I glanced over my shoulder and sure ‘nough, there were Water and Slade, watching us like hawks. Cory headed off to the town records office at the courthouse and I drove back to the Inn, just caught Tracy about to drive from the lot.

“Where ya goin’, darlin’?”

“Ohh! I’m so excited. I’m going into Stowe to look at a new possible location for the shop! Some guy called me that it’s just become available and it might be perfect!”

“Who called you?” Felt the hair on the back of my neck go up.

“Oh, uh, his name was … um … Frank. Frank Water.”

“You ain’t talking to that asshole. Stay here.”

“Oh, I’m not going to talk to him. Don’t worry, I’m just going to drive past it and take a quick look. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“No. You stay away from there.”

“Ben,” her eyes got real soft and damn if I didn’t melt. “I promised you we’ll make a decision together about a location for the beauty shop. I promise I won’t even get out of the car. Fifteen minutes and I’ll be right back.”

And before I could say no, she drove away. What? Now Water thinks he can buy me through Tracy? This fuckin’ shit ain’t gonna happen. Period. I dropped my ass onto the porch step and groaned. Damn if life ain’t getting’ just a little too complicated.

“Most guests prefer the cushioned chairs,” I heard John say behind me and his little son sat down beside me.

“Hi Nathan,” I said and he grinned. “You got women trouble too?”

John chuckled and stepped off the porch. “Yeah, he’s trying to escape Chelsea. Come on, buddy. Let’s go throw rocks into the pond.”

The kid scooted to John’s side and they walked off. Damn, that’s what I really want. A nice family, some sons to throw rocks in a pond with. Quiet. Settled. Was I gonna get that?

I looked up at the surrounding mountains, the lush green trees, the pretty groomed grounds. Just as I was thinking about what I’d do if Tracy didn’t get back in fifteen minutes, Riley came out and sat beside me.

“I hear most folks prefer the chairs,” I teased.

“Well, not when they can sit next to you, Ben. How are you today?”

I shifted and leaned my back against the railing post, lookin’ at her. “Maybe you can help me with somethin’, Riley.”

“Shoot.”

I cleared my throat. “See, Tracy wants to start her own hair cutting … beauty type shop … and me … well, I kinda don’t want her to.”

Riley blinked and I kept talkin’. “See, what I want is for us to get hitched, have some kids, just settle, ya know. Maybe you can talk to her for me … get her to see my point?”

It took a full minute for her to stop laughin’.

“Ben Wade … are you asking me to convince a career woman that she shouldn’t run a business and have a family?”

“Uh … yeah.”

Again with that laughin’ and I huffed. She stood and messed my hair.

“Oh, poor Ben. You’re barking up the wrong tree with this.” I could hear her laughing all the way through the lobby.

Lucky for Frank Water … lucky for Tracy … and lucky for me, my woman pulled up exactly ten minutes later announcing that the place Water was offering had a terrible location and there was no way she’d want it.

And I started to wonder … was Water stupid? Did he think Tracy was stupid? Or did that asshole have some other plan for that hair cutting place that might hide some of his illegal activities?

“What was he askin’ for the place?”

“Less than half what property is worth here; that little house is worth a whole lot more … but it’s far from Main Street. I’ll never see any walk-in business. Sheesh.”

No, I didn’t tell her I was hopin’ she’d never see any business, walk in or any other kind. Seems I gotta hold that off for another time.

JOHN

Beer in hand, dinner in my belly and Riles cleaning the kitchen, I settled on the sofa with the TV switcher. Six o’clock and time for the evening news. I took the day easy, sticking close to home and wanting my wife to see that life just might not change all that much if I become the mayor. Actually, it was a kinda nice day too. Quiet breakfast, playtime with Nathan, a little afternoon delight after he went down for his nap. God sakes, I almost hate to give up those little windows of opportunity that are gonna disappear after Riles has another baby. Maybe I can hold out until Nathan gets into school and the new kid starts taking regular naps, right? I did that with Donna. Course, it wasn’t easy, but I had hockey to occupy my time and burn off energy. Wonder if being mayor will keep me busy enough to serve that same need?

But, Riles ain’t Donna; ain’t nothing like Donna. It was obvious by the way she was leaning over the back of the sofa and hugging me. I was just about to reach up, grab her by the arms, tug her over my shoulder and onto my lap when we both heard it and focused on the television.

It was a damn good commercial. The sound of quick, thumping drums in a syncopated rhythm. With each sharp rap, was another picture of Ben. Ben standing outside the bank after the robbery, Ben talking with people on Main Street, Ben with Tracy strolling out of the coffee shop. Then came a professional announcer’s voice; God sakes, I swear it was that guy who does the NFL films!

“Ben Wade. A man who will outlaw crime in Stowe. A man for the future. Vote for Ben Wade for Sheriff.”

“There’s no fucking way on earth the candidate approved of that ad. Shit, Ben probably doesn’t even know about it. Just like those goddamn posters.”

“Oh … my … God,” Riles gasped. “I’ll put on some coffee. You get them all together. Something has to be done about this!”

“Hey, hey, baby,” I gripped her hand tight. “Listen, I’ll meet them someplace else.”

“No, you won’t. I want to be here,” she watched my face then softened, kissed my cheek.
“I won’t say anything or do anything. I just need to know you guys are taking care of this, taking care of each other. Maybe we should call Terry in on this.”

“Hell no. Shit, Riles … he’s in Spain taking his first vacation probably … ever. I’m not bothering him with this. It’s not a K&R issue and besides, we’ve got enough expertise right here to handle it.” Her head tilted and I did the same. “I ain’t no slouch, ya know. I was a cop and a sheriff. Wade’s getting a good grasp on what’s happening and he’s on this side of the law. We have Sheriff Mike and the mayor, and we have Roberts. We are gonna manage this thing. We don’t need Terry. Let the man enjoy his rest.”

She conceded, headed for the coffee pot and I made my calls. Within an hour, the baby was tucked in and asleep and our living room was full. Riley settled on a chair and watched everything.

Of course, they were all watching her too. Wade’s eyes swung from Riles to me more than once and no one talked. Cory finally piped up, poor idiot.

“Ah, Riles? Don’t you got someplace else to go, doll?”

The glare he got actually made him look like he melted. He loosened his vintage tie and cleared his throat.

“Darlin’, why don’t you go visit with Tracy for a while?” Wade said nice and smooth.

Riley squared her shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere. I know all about this and I have a vested interest. I won’t interrupt or tell anyone anything I hear here tonight. I just … I just need to know how you all plan to protect each other, that’s all.” Ben scowled and Riley stood, shot a glower his way then spat. “Don’t you even think you’re gonna give me that ‘a wife’s place’ look, Ben Wade! A wife’s place is right here!” and she plopped down beside me on the couch.

Richie chuckled as did Mike and the mayor and it looked like the meeting might finally get started.

“Okay,” Roberts grunted. “What have we got?”

Cory flipped opened his notebook. “The television spot was produced by a Manhattan ad agency; the cost … a whopping thirty-four thousand dollars. The price of running the damn local ads was only eight hundred bucks.”

“Who paid for the production?” I asked.

Cory grinned, bobbed his Bud White brows. “Slade Corporation.”

I turned to Richie. “What’s the campaign manager gotta say about this?”

He chuckled. “The fuckin’ campaign manager is busy arranging press conferences for Ben and you on Friday … but, this little television blitz is giving me a chance to tighten a few screws on them.”

“Ah …” Ben cleared his throat. “Frank Water contacted Tracy. Offered her a place in town for her hair cutting shop.”

Richie was now leafing through his own notes. “Water only owns one building in downtown Stowe proper. 610 Market  Avenue … and in the basement of 610 Market Avenue … he runs slot machines.”

“What?” Ben grunted.

“Illegal gambling,” I answered and turned to Mike.

“What’s your plan on that?”

“Timing is everything John, you know that. I’m letting it ride until the perfect moment. I have thirty state cops standing by to be here to raid the place next Tuesday morning,” he grinned.

“Election day,” chuckled Cory. “Nice.”

“Tell me, Ben” said the mayor. “What was he asking for that place on Market?”

“Tracy said half what it’s worth.”

“No doubt the sale price didn’t include the basement. He’s looking to make sure you’re in debt to him, Ben. We won’t let it happen.” Richie stood and reached for his jacket. “I’ve been keeping records for campaign expenses and questionable donations. You’re covered buddy. And … I’m outta here.”

“Where the hell are you goin’?” Cory grunted.

“To get a little more dirt. Later guys … and the lovely Mrs. Biebe too.”

“Ah wait,” the mayor cleared his throat. “I … ah … I kinda did something.”

Richie’s ass was back on the chair and we were all staring at the old man.

“I got a friend in the state legislature. He’s made some arrangements and I’ll be receiving fourteen thousand hand marking ballot cards. It’s coming to the house packed in Crate and Barrel boxes. He’s also planting three Vermont election officials at the courthouse during the balloting.”

“Damn … you’re good!” Cory hissed.

“Yeah,” Mike grunted and reached for his own coat. “All we gotta do now is keep it quiet that we won’t be using the voting machines. Bill, can you make sure the machines are confiscated and examined on election day? Bet my bottom dollar they’ve been tampered with.”

“Already in the works.”

“Before we all leave, what’s the story with Giarasucci?” Richie asked and Mayor Williams sighed.

“Aldo Giarasucci owns a construction company but he’s been clean for over fifteen years. His company is contracted by Kevin Boyer on the new construction here at the Inn.”

“You think he’s part of this gambling issue?” Richie shrugged. “The guy did spend time in prison for scamming a Vegas casino.”

Riley finally spoke and I was sure surprised she held off so long. “Aldo was in prison?”

I nodded.

“Should we … maybe think about … asking Kevin to use some other construction company? I mean, if it’ll look bad for your campaign, maybe we should consider it.”

“No, no, Mrs. Biebe,” the mayor reached over and patted her hand. “Aldo’s construction business in on the up and up. It’s clean as a whistle. No point in obstructing your construction schedule over a suspicion.”

“We still have no proof he’s got anything to do with Water’s slot machines,” added Mike. “Let’s leave Aldo out of this for now. He’s major support for both Ben and John and there are no strings attached. He’s an asset on the zoning board too … totally against the mall.”

Riley sighed and nodded then looked over her shoulder toward the massive building going up outside our window.

RICHIE

I decided to play a little hardball with the bad guys. After all, they think I’m some dumb ass city idiot, so desperate for a job I took on campaign management for Biebe and Wade. I kinda left them to think I wasn’t so well versed at the job either, so that was another ace in my pocket. I wanted to do this real subtle, but clear enough to get a reaction. What better way than to play it like Cory did? I might get a headache in the process, but I’d also get the information … and the evidence I need to build a solid case.

Went into Old Maulder’s and asked around, located Water and Slade sitting in a back booth and started to wonder what their investment was in the old pub. Didn’t walk up right away, I decided to do a little snooping first. Sat at the bar and struck up a conversation with a Mr. Pete Cash, sixty-four year old antiques dealer who’s lived in Stowe all his life. Turned out to be a pretty interesting talk.

“Yeah, Roger Fisher … what a prick. He’s got all that city slick goin’ for him but nobody ‘round here trusts him. Wade would win against Fisher, hands down.”

I chuckled, acting casual. “What’s so bad about Fisher?”

“He wants that fucking mall for one thing. He lives here the minimum required amount of time annually to even qualify to run … eight stinking months. This town needs a full time sheriff, ‘specially during the ski season, ya know.”

“He made it public he wants the mall?”

“’Course not,” snorted old Pete. “But he spends way more time with Frank Water than I’d like. Water,” he leaned in and whispered whiskey breath, “he’s filthy, I tell you.”

“Wait,” I said, really trying to look confused. “If Mr. Water is for the mall, and Mr. Fisher is for the mall … why is Water supporting Ben Wade’s campaign?”

Pete laughed. “You ain’t too smart are ya? Don’t worry, son. Most city raised folk ain’t too smart. Use your head.” He leaned real close and hissed his secret … or rather, all the confirmation I needed. “Fisher is a selfish fuck, just like Water. He’d want something if he got in office. Wade … well, Ben Wade, he’s pure as the driven snow and Water probably thinks he can be in the position to call in favors he’d never get from Fisher.”

“And you still back Wade knowing he might be manipulated?”

Pete rolled his eyes then squared himself to face me. “I read people real good. Ben Wade ain’t the kinda man anyone can manipulate.”

He sure hit that nail on the head.

“Mr. Roberts.” I turned to see Mickey Slade. “Can we buy you a drink, buddy?”

“Sure,” I left to join the bad guys, ignoring a snorted warning from old Pete.

“We were wondering about this press conference on Friday,” Water said without even greeting me with a fucking nod. “Since Mickey and I are so generously supporting Wade, I thought maybe you’d give us an advanced listing of his platform.”

I grinned, shrugged. “No can do … and by the way. The production on that television commercial …” I whistled. “Some serious support you’re giving there. But I’m thinking maybe it was a little … I dunno … overkill?”

Mickey poured me a beer from the freshly delivered pitcher. “Never overkill when you’re backing the right horse.”

“That so? What’s your issue with Fisher? I hear you guys used to be good friends,” I sipped, my eyes glued to Water.

“Friendships end. Call it … creative differences.”

I cleared my throat. “I dunno, sometimes creative differences in situations like this … they kinda slip into … the illegal, shall we say?”

For a minute there, I thought Slade would explode but he held his own. I finished my beer without saying another word until I was good and goddamn ready to make my play. I stood, dropped a few bucks on the table and shrugged at their glares.

“Not everybody can be bought, gentlemen. I’ll be reporting that Mr. Ben Wade did not approve that television commercial or the other advertising, but I will keep this,” I fingered the ‘Vote for Wade’ button on lapel. “I kinda like it. Oh … and I suggest you gentlemen watch where you walk … don’t wanna be stepping in shit, now do you?”

I left, purposely taking the back door and slithering into the alley. As I moved I checked the wire I was wearing under my shirt and spoke nice and clear. “You get all that?”

Cory waved from behind the dumpster. Fuck, he wasn’t supposed to be so damn close. But I had backup, Sheriff Mike and a few of his officers were also just around the corner. I stopped and pulled out my notebook, poised my pen and waited. Didn’t take long and I felt something crack against the back of my head. Not a bad hit, in fact, I was actually standing there waiting for a second strike, it never came. What came was Cory, charging from his hiding place with a video camera in his hand. Not aimed, not taping, just dangling there.

“Why don’t you fuckers dance with a man for a change!” he shouted and footsteps disappeared behind me.
 
I rubbed my head. “What the fuck?”

Cory reached out to support my arm as Mike came closer.

“You get the attack on film?” I groaned.

“No, sorry,” Cory huffed.

Mike shrugged. “Nothing more we can do tonight. Go take care of that head, Roberts.”

I shot a glare at Cory that lasted most of our drive back to the Inn. “Cory White, just what the fuck did you think you were doing back there? You fucked up the operation. We needed solid evidence!”

“We got the tape, fuck’s sake. Didn’t see no need for you getting your sorry ass kicked too.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Cory … man … listen to me and listen good, will ya? I understand this … obsession … you got with your grandfather. I seen that movie too, he was a tough ass guy … but Cory … you ain’t Bud White. You ain’t nearly Bud White. You don’t have his training, don’t have his skill and … sorry to say … but you sure as hell don’t have his instincts.”

We pulled into the inn parking lot and I cleared my throat. “Buddy, you really gotta back off. Do what you know, it helps, trust me. But burying you for something stupid just ain’t gonna do no one no good.” I climbed out and headed for my room and a bottle of aspirin.

CORY

Watching Roberts walk inside I knew, really knew I fucked up. Sometime, I swear I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Richie said he watched LA Confidential but hell, I grew up knowing the man … and trust me, he never changed over the years. Even though I was just a kid when he died, I clearly remember him. He was still sharp, still grumpy as hell, still tough as nails and still a real bad ass. But … I really had to take a minute to think about this. Was this an obsession?

Missing granddad and trying to be him is two different things … like the difference between normal and ‘please bring in the straight jacket’. Dressing like this, cutting off my hair, even feeling kinda cool in the vintage clothes, now that was me. I consciously did those things every day. But sometimes … I dunno … sometimes I feel like Gemma must have felt when she channeled a spirit. It’s like Bud White just steps into my body and moves it for me, thinks for me … or like tonight, leaps to protect a family member.

Am I losing it? Or … or … there was another possibility. I am, after all, Bud White’s grandson. Wasn’t it just possible I do have some of his traits? Maybe I am a little like him. Caught myself grinning at that thought but soon I wasn’t grinning anymore. Soon, I was starting to see something not so great. It was time to face that feeling … the one I been getting a lot over the past few years, especially since meeting Daisy.

See, I was always the baby, the youngest kid and grandkid. That sorta left me with this stupid feeling that I really never had to grow up. Right, right, but hold that straight jacket a few more minutes, will ya? It probably isn’t all that uncommon. Something like that Peter Pan Syndrome women talk about. But the thing is … I do wanna grow up. Be a man. And the best man I ever knew in my whole life was my granddad.

He was substantial, sure. No one ever questioned him and they always knew the limits of his patience … and the power of his limitless compassion. Being around all the others, I’m sometimes jealous. They knew him differently than I did; they knew him in his prime. I gotta admit I want to know him the way he was then. And yeah … I wish I could be him.

I climbed the stairs, right past my room and headed for the tower. For three hours I sat up there, talking my heart out to nothing, no one. Bud White wasn’t up there, or if he was, he sure wasn’t interested in answering me. I finally ran a hand over the fuzz on my head and grunted. “Fine, fine. I’m leavin’. G’night, granddad. I love you, man.”

Did I say he wasn’t listening? I was wrong, dead wrong. No, it wasn’t anything dramatic, no ghostly visits or floating apparitions. Granddad was never into that spooky shit. What happened was the moment I fell asleep, the dreams started. Dreams that were mostly memories of being a kid, being around the Bad Ass and doing good … or not so good, if you get my drift. He wasn’t brutal, but I did get my ass reddened more than once. Then the dreams got different. They were memories I couldn’t have had, memories of stuff that never happened, stuff after he died … talking with him in my college dorm room, seeing him in the audience when I got an award for my first documentary film. Memories of him even walking to me right here in Vermont, in the breakfast room or out by the pond. They felt like memories, they really did.

Then it changed again. I was sitting in the car right after Richie left. Scared the bejesus outta me to turn and see Bud White sitting right where Riche was sitting a second ago. It wasn’t granddad like I knew. He wasn’t grey and wrinkled. He was probably ten years older than me, in his thirties. His eyes were intense, his body powerful and muscular. I swear to God, if I’d have reached out I could have touched him! He grunted to shuffle in the seat and squared to look at me and damn if the whole car didn’t move. His big hand ran down his chin and he glared. But it was one of those compassionate glares, the kind where I was never sure if I was gonna get a pat on the back or my ass chewed out.

“Kid,” he said and I almost cried hearing his voice rumble through me. Fuck, he was my damn hero. He cleared his throat and looked right into my soul. “Ya know, he’s right. You ain’t me, Cory … and thank fuckin’ God for it. I didn’t have such an easy life, buddy. Fuckin’ A, it was rough. Life as a cop fucks up everything, kid. Everything. From the way you love to the way you raise a family … how you see yourself while you live and after you’re gone. I know I never told you this, but I’m glad you never did what I did, what your dad did. I know I was gone, I know I never talked to you until you came here, but I been watchin’. Sometimes you’re one fuckin’ shitbird … but sometimes … well … lotsa times … you make me proud, Cory. Your grandmother too. Real proud.

“You’re good at what you do. Okay, I don’t know shit about the film business, but I do know you do good … and I know you’re pretty fuckin’ safe doin’ it. Now”

My gut started to shake, I knew it was coming. He was gonna ream me a new asshole, I just knew it. I actually leaned back but he chuckled. “Here’s the scoop, kid. You ain’t me, you don’t know the first thing about doin’ stuff like I did. But it’s gotta stop. It’s gotta … or trust me, you’re gonna lose everything, Cory.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the clothes. You look good. Nothin’ wrong with looking good, but back off. Leave this shit to the experts. If you don’t you could lose your life, kid and trust me, you don’t wanna be where I am … not yet. If you don’t lose your life, you’re gonna get your sorry ass real hurt … if not that, you’ll get your sorry ass fired … and worse than all that …” He actually placed his hand on my shoulder and I felt it! Felt the heat and weight of it! “Worse than all that … if ya don’t stop messin’ where you don’t belong … you’re gonna lose Daisy. Trust me, you don’t wanna do that. She’s your future, Cory White.”

My head started to spin. Lose Daisy? Lose Daisy! My whole body jerked and I woke. The room was dark and I could feel her beside me, naked and snuggled, spooning nice and neat, the perfect fit. I slithered my arm around her and tugged her tighter. She moaned and sighed.

I don’t wanna die, I don’t care to get hurt. I sure don’t want to fuck up again like I did in that alley with Roberts. But most of all, I don’t want to lose Daisy. Fuckin’ A, she’s my future and I want my future.

I’ll start keeping clear of the dangerous stuff, do my films and help out where I’m really able. Time to stay out of the deep end. I’m a filmmaker, not a cop. I’ll stick to what I know.