To Get Me to You (Wishful 1)

Something flickered across his face and was gone. “No. No, I didn’t know her. Just recognized the name.”

“It might’ve been somebody from Cam’s dad’s side that you knew. I’m afraid I don’t know anything about the Crawford side. His dad left years ago, and I don’t think there are any relatives still here from that branch.” She laughed at herself. “Sorry. They’re rubbing off on me. Can’t seem to have a conversation without talking about who’s related to who anymore.”

“It’s the way of the south. Listen, it was nice to meet you. Good luck with your campaign. It’s not often in life you get a second chance at something, and this town really deserves one.”

He turned to walk away.

“Mr. Peyton?” Gerald glanced over his shoulder. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“So do I.”

Chapter 16

Cam dug the blade of his sharp shooter shovel into the earth and blessed the groundhog for having given the middle finger to winter. The rising, early spring temperatures had landscaping clients coming out of the woodwork, which meant he could finally get his hands dirty with something other than political bullshit. The weeping cherry trees that hadn’t arrived in yesterday’s shipment were easily traded out for Japanese magnolias, so, with the exception of Dewey May, who hadn’t shown, he and his crew were going full-tilt on the demolition of Moriah Keaney’s dated, overgrown front flowerbeds.

An hour and a half into the job, Cam was getting worried. Dewey hadn’t called in. He was the soul of responsibility. He’d fallen on hard times, another victim of the plant closing. Cam plugged him into the crew as often as possible for part-time work, just to help him keep his family afloat. That hadn’t been often during the slow winter.

Cam paused in his work to try the house phone again. No answer. He tried Dewey’s cell, wondering if he’d misdialed the first time, but the recorded message told him the number was no longer in service. “Hey, anybody know if Dewey got a new cell number?”

Steve Vessey paused to mop his brow with a faded bandanna.“I think he had to let his cell service go. They had to keep the land line because of the kids, you know?”

None of the rest of the crew knew where he was.

Prying up the overgrown boxwood hedge, Cam decided that if he’d heard nothing in another hour, he’d take a break and get Violet to call over to check with Dewey’s wife Pauline at the salon where she worked.

Even as Cam dragged the boxwood to the trailer to haul off, Dewey’s ancient, mud brown Chevy rumbled up and parked behind the line of vehicles.

He leapt out and made a beeline for Cam. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’m late.” A moon-faced man with a body like a fireplug, Dewey picked up the other side of the hedge and helped Cam heave it into the trailer. “I’ll understand if you had to replace me for this job.”

“We’re fine. Is everything all right with you, though? Nothing’s amiss with the kids or Pauline?”

“Oh no. Didn’t mean to worry you. I was up at the job fair. It took a lot longer than I expected.”

“What job fair?”

“Up at the community center. That new store GrandGoods is up there taking applications.”

An event like that would’ve required special permission. It should’ve gone through cursory City Council review, and yet this was the first Cam was hearing of it.

Something must’ve shown in his expression because Dewey flushed. “I know you’re against them coming, Cam. But Pauline really wanted me to put in an application.”

“Certainly she did. You have a duty to apply for anything you can to support your family. I understand that.” But he sure as hell needed to find out what was going on.

Giving instructions to Dewey about what needed to be done before lunch, Cam rinsed off his hands and headed into town.

There was a line. It snaked out of the community center doors and wrapped down the sidewalk, all the way around the quarter mile walking track next door. A banner was tied up on the side of the building with the GrandGoods logo, proclaiming NOW HIRING. Cam parked down by Poor Richard’s Print Shop and walked the three blocks back. He didn’t miss the assorted grumbles from the masses as he strode past them all and went inside.

Tables were set up in the gymnasium. Bill Sutto was there, along with four other people wearing GrandGoods polo shirts, each talking to prospective employees. And, of course, in the thick of it all stood Vick Burgess.

“What’s going on here? Who authorized this?”

“Why, the City Council did,” Vick said with an avuncular smile. “You didn’t get the memo?”

“I most certainly did not.” Cam was willing to bet the bastard hadn’t even sent him the email.

“It passed the others with a quick review. Nobody saw any reason not to get the ball rolling since GrandGoods was approved. The people need the boost of some good news.”

“Nothing is definite yet. They still have to obtain the special use permit before they even complete the purchase of the land. What’s it going to do to community morale to get hopes up for a job, only to have the company defeated?”