Garik stared evenly at him.
“The post office will treat it a lot worse than that,” the pilot said.
“Give me your card.”
“My card?”
“Your business card.” As the pilot dug through his wallet, Garik added, “Get the package mailed ASAP, or I’ll find out why.” He took the card and turned to face the crowd.
The people who waited in line were closely observing him.
In return, he scanned the crowd.
The Hoffs were both on camera, filming with the Virtue Falls mayor, who was at his most fulsome. In the background of the shot was a large, sparkling oil painting of the sun smiling on the ocean and a long stretch of coast. Without a doubt, one of Bradley’s. They were holding up tickets … It didn’t take a genius to figure out their strategy. They were running a raffle for the painting, one to raise money for Virtue Falls. And it would raise money, Garik was sure. Lots and lots of money.
Rainbow stood alone, looking miffed.
Hand on his revolver, Foster watched Garik.
Noah Griffin stood talking to … Elizabeth and Andrew Marrero.
“Shit.” Garik could not believe it. He’d been gone ten minutes, and she’d managed to get caught by the reporter and her asshat of a boss.
He headed in their direction, then veered toward Rainbow. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know.” Rainbow was snippy. “She wanted to have a private conversation with her reporter.”
Garik sternly looked down his nose at her.
Rainbow stared back defiantly. Then her indignation faded. “All right. She was having her private moment with Noah—it looked like a fight to me—when Marrero came running up saying Noah misunderstood and he and Elizabeth wanted to release the tsunami video together. Marrero’s bound and determined to grab credit one way or another, I imagine as Elizabeth’s supervisor.”
Garik
really
didn’t like that guy. In fact, Garik would give him the inside track as Misty’s killer, except for a couple of things.
He did not believe the Suns’ house had burned by accident; Foster was the suspect for that.
And he knew better than to think that because a guy was annoying, he was also lethal. Marrero could very well be nothing but a big bag of gas without a sincere bone in his body.
Was he a killer, too? God only knew, and before it was over, Garik would know, too.
“Let me see what I can do to derail his schemes,” he said.
“You do that,” Rainbow answered.
Garik didn’t really have a plan, so he walked over and stood beside the reporter, silent and unsmiling. In his experience, a grim, silent, muscular man made people nervous, and people who were nervous did one of three things: retreat, babble, or get aggressive.
The response always revealed more to Garik than an interrogation.
Elizabeth glanced at him in annoyance.
Noah stepped away.
Marrero said, “Do you mind? We’re giving an interview here.”
Fists clenched, Garik crossed his arms high over his chest and stared, gaze level, eyes expressionless. Yes, each one had revealed something about their personalities.
Noah watched him out of the corners of his eyes, but he spoke to Marrero. “So you’re Elizabeth Banner’s mentor?”
“Yes. Of course. Who else could be?”
Garik barely contained his amusement; Marrero really needed to learn not to show his irritation so openly during an interview. The reporter always had the last word.
Noah consulted his phone. “In my notes, it says she was an accomplished geologist before she took this position.”
Marrero’s face flushed a deep, livid shade of burgundy.
“And when I interviewed you in Tahoe,” Noah continued, “you yourself said she was the best applicant for the job.”
Elizabeth could scarcely contain her exasperation with Marrero and with Noah. “There is no substitute for experience, and while it’s true I had the educational credentials, experience is what I’ve received while on this dig.”
“So you’re saying Andrew Marrero is your mentor? That your father is not?”
Garik noted that although the question was sharp, Noah’s voice softened as he spoke to Elizabeth.
How did she do it? The guy was half in love with her, and as always, she was clueless.
“My father and I had no contact between the time I was four and twenty-six, so I think it’s safe to say my father has had minimal influence on my knowledge of geology.” The word
obviously
was unspoken.
“Yet you did follow the exact same profession he did,” Noah said, “even going so far as to return to the project he started.”
“I do have a certain sterling reputation as the leader of the project.” Marrero struggled to insert himself into the discussion. “Do you want to see the tsunami video?”
“I’ve seen it,” Noah said impatiently. “You know that. In accordance with Miss Banner’s wishes, I will send the video to the Geological Society of America. I have contacts with the Discovery Channel, so it’s also going there.”
“That’s good,” Marrero said. “Very good.”
Garik watched Marrero ruminate, trying to figure out an angle that would bring attention to him.
And he did. “Who’s your contact at the Discovery Channel?” Marrero asked Noah. “I’ll send a background report on the project and suggest they come here to film footage.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Noah had Marrero figured out, too, and his tone couldn’t have been more cynically insulting.
Marrero’s color started to climb again.
Elizabeth pinched Noah. Hard.
He jumped and straightened. “Mr. Marrero, I’ll get you that name right away, and tell him you’re sending in the report.”
“Good.” Marrero had accomplished his mission. “I’m going back to work, then.” Turning to Elizabeth, he said with exquisite sarcasm, “Do you plan on returning to the dig any time soon?”
Before Garik could say a word, she answered, “I’ll be there this afternoon.”
“How good of you.” Marrero headed around the truck. Garik heard him stumble against the side panel and shout, “Damn it, woman!”
Stepping around, Garik saw Marrero storming toward the canyon, and Rainbow dusting herself off.
She looked up and shrugged, unabashed at being caught eavesdropping, and wandered off after Marrero.
At the back of the truck, like a bully on the playground, Elizabeth pushed Noah backward. “What’s wrong with you? Are you trying to make my life miserable? We—all of us guys who work for Andrew—make sure his ego is well stoked at all times. It’s the only way to keep him halfway pleasant!”
Noah let her push. “He really has it in for you, doesn’t he?”
She stopped pushing and stood stock-still. “Garik says Andrew Marrero has issues about living in the shadow of my father’s genius.”
Garik spoke for the first time. “And your genius, too.”
“I got all that figured out,” Noah said.
She pushed again. “You won’t put that in your report.”
“God, no. That gets into possible slander.” Noah sat on the truck’s bumper.
“Get off my truck,” Garik said.
Noah stood up hastily, but kept his focus on Elizabeth. “Really? Charles Banner had no influence on your decision to become a geologist?”
“Probably he did in that I’m intrinsically good at it,” she said.
“Genetics at work,” Noah suggested.
Elizabeth inclined her head. “Yes, I believe so.”
“What about your decision to move here … I don’t believe for a second you merely wanted to be mentored by Andrew Marrero.” Noah was fishing.
Elizabeth, of course, swallowed the bait. “He’s very capable. But—”
Garik put his hand on her arm.
Abruptly, she stopped talking.
“Look,” Noah said to Garik. “No reporter sticks to ‘Just the facts, ma’am’ anymore. If she doesn’t tell me, I’ll speculate, and probably sell it for a lot more than I can get for the truth.”
“I could crush you like a bug,” Garik told him.
Noah grinned. “Haven’t you heard? Reporters are like cockroaches. Kill one, and a million take its place.”
Garik took a step toward him.
Noah held up his hands. “I’m one of the good guys. I’m on Elizabeth’s side, and I’ll stick to the truth, pretty much. And you don’t want me out there in the real world where Internet is cheap and easy and I can do a buttload of damage to the Banner project because I didn’t feel welcome.”
Garik was within a breath of saying he didn’t give a crap about the Banner project. But one glance at Elizabeth’s face made him shut up.
“It’s a good project,” she told him.
Unfair. What good did it do him to keep his mouth shut if she could read his mind?
“I don’t understand why you’re here,” Garik said to Noah. “Now that the tsunami and the earthquake are becoming distant memories, for the news, anyway, and it looks like the Hoffs will get the recovery moving along, there’s no story. So why are you hanging around?”
“Why does any reporter leave civilization, go off to a tiny town on the coast, and hang around colorful characters?” Noah smiled, sort of cynically, with one side of his mouth. “I’m writing a book.”
Garik was pretty sure Noah was laughing at himself.
Elizabeth did laugh. “Really? That’s great. When will it be published?”
Noah sighed. “The correct question is, when will it be finished? I’m having more trouble than I expected getting past writing chapter one.”
“You don’t know what to write after the first chapter?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. I mean … those two words.
Chapter One
.” Noah seemed completely serious. “In the meantime, I’m supporting myself with freelance reporting. Which is why I’m trying to find out whether you came to Virtue Falls for your father.”
Garik shook his head at Elizabeth.
Noah glared.
Elizabeth ignored Garik and answered. “Yes. I wished to get to know my father before the Alzheimer’s took him away forever.”
“Did you recognize him when you saw him?” Noah pressed her eagerly, as if afraid Garik would interrupt him. Or stomp him.
“From the photos, yes. But not from my childhood.” She said that quite firmly.
“Did you recognize Virtue Falls when you arrived?” Noah asked.
“Not at all.”
“Did you recognize your house?”
“No.”
Noah’s eyes lit. “So you went to your house?”
Damn it. She’d fallen for the reporter’s ruse. And even worse—Noah had thought to ask a question that had never occurred to Garik.
Damn it.
If Elizabeth knew she’d been tricked, she gave no indication. She answered the question without emotion, with apparent frankness. “When I first got here, even before I went to visit my father, I was curious, so I went out to see the house where I’d spent my first years.”
“Where
it
happened?” Not even Noah had the nerve to elucidate exactly what had happened. “That must have been creepy.”
“No. No, it was sad. I had thought if I went back, my recollection would return. But I didn’t remember it at all. The house was boarded up, a decrepit wreck sitting out in the middle of nothing, empty of everything … even memories.” She sighed, then smiled. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I want to go stand in line for my free bag of supplies, and after that—I need to go to work.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
By the time Elizabeth got in the line to pick up her foodstuffs and paper products, the line had shrunk to about twenty people, all of them looking a little ragged, a little tired, but all avidly watched Bradley and Vivian Hoff speaking with the mayor of Virtue Falls in front of the camera.
“What are they talking about?” Elizabeth asked the woman in front of her.
“From what I’ve heard, the mayor is telling them that Virtue Falls has received no attention from Washington State officials, that we don’t have the basic amenities, and he’s hinting we’re all going to turn Republican if they don’t fix the roads.” The woman laughed, but without humor.
“So they’re going to get it on the news?” Elizabeth asked.
“The Hoffs have a lot of influence,” the next woman up said. “So the interview should get us some action.”
“It better,” the first woman said, “I’m tired of taking cold showers and eating cold meals.”
“I’m here for flashlight and batteries.” Elizabeth pulled her old, battered flashlight out of her bag and showed them the cracked lens. “Geologists are tough on flashlights.”
From behind her, Garik said, “I’m here for the toilet paper.”
Elizabeth turned to face him, and frowned.
“Hey, toilet paper is important, especially if you don’t have it.” He looked innocent, not at all as if he was stalking her—for her own safety, of course.
“Hello, Garik, good to see you back in town,” the woman in front of Elizabeth said.
“Hello, Mrs. Ubach. Good thing this happened when the kids were out for the summer, huh? How did the high school come through?”
“It’s not too bad. That’s where I’m living now—in the gym.” Mrs. Ubach smiled painfully.
“I want to flush the toilet … and have it flush,” said the woman two up from Elizabeth. “With water I don’t have to pour from a bucket.”
“I want to flip a switch and have the light come on,” the woman three up said.
“I want to go through
one day
and not get shaken out of bed by an aftershock,” the woman in front of her said.
Everybody nodded about that, and shuffled forward in line.
“I want to go home,” Mrs. Ubach said. “I want to be able to hire a contractor to take the tree off the roof, and to replace the garage and the windows. I want to cook in my own kitchen, sleep in my own bed, drink my own coffee. I want to be alone, without listening to fifty adults and twenty kids at the shelter, all talking or snoring or crying or fighting…” Her voice trailed off. “I should be grateful to be alive. And I am. But I just want … to go home.”
The litany was all the more heartfelt for being so obviously unrehearsed.
The lady in front hugged her.
As always when faced with such raw human emotions, Elizabeth felt helpless and incompetent. But she patted Mrs. Ubach’s arm. “I am very lucky to be staying at the resort, but I do understand. I lost everything except what I had in my bag, and the photo album Peyton Bailey got for me.”