boy’s too smart for his own good.”
The woman’s instant recognition of Lucas’s name surprised Olivia, even though Lucas had said they were friends. She had a hard time picturing her sweet, curious son and this dried prune of a woman together. “Lucas hasn’t done anything wrong. He . . . I need to do some research on the history of Eureka. He gave me a list of books to read. And he said I should talk to you.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Cassie drew herself up taller, looking pleased. She adjusted her glasses on her nose. “Let me see the list.”
Olivia handed over the sheet of paper covered in Lucas’s boyish scrawl. Cassie scanned the list, then raised her gaze to Olivia once more. “Why are you so interested in Eureka’s history?”
“Janelle and Danielle at the Last Dollar have hired me to paint a mural on the back wall of the café. They want something with scenes from Eureka’s history.”
“They stole the idea from my Founders’ Pageant at Hard Rock Days. Those two were certainly never interested in local history before. “
“I don’t know what inspired them.” She was not going to get in the middle of a feud between the librarian and the café owners. “Can you help me with these books?”
Cassie looked her up and down. Olivia fought the urge to fidget, like a girl called into the principal’s office. If this project hadn’t been so important, and if she could think of any other way to get the information she needed, she’d have turned on her heels and left Cassie Wynock to stew in her own superior attitude.
“Come with me.” Cassie motioned for Olivia to follow and set off at a brisk walk back toward the front desk. She breezed past the woman behind the counter and into an office with glass on two sides, which allowed the occupant to look out over the library. “Sit down.” Cassie indicated the chair across from the desk.
Olivia sat. Cassie took the chair behind the desk and pulled out a thick brown photo album—the kind where all the photographs are held in place by black adhesive triangles at the corners. She turned the album around to face Olivia and opened to a page with a picture of a stern-faced man with slick-backed hair and a curling moustache. “This is my great-grandfather, Festus Wynock. He founded the town of Eureka. Everything it is today is because of him.”
Olivia peered at the photograph. Old Festus looked like he’d eaten a sour pickle. She pointed to a photo on the opposite page of an equally stern and imposing woman. “Who’s this?”
“That’s my great-grandmother Emmaline. The dowry she brought from her family paid for all the property my grandfather bought. At one time he owned most of the land in the area.”
That much land would be worth a lot of money these days. Olivia had been around people who had money—Cassie didn’t look like them. “Why doesn’t your family own all that land now?”
“Because he sold it.” She snapped the album shut. “I can show you these books about gold miners and Indians, but all you really need to know is that my great-grandfather put Eureka on the map. If anyone should go on your mural, it’s him.”
“I’d still like to look at the books Lucas recommended,” she said. “I have a few ideas of my own for the mural.”
Cassie scowled at her, her eyes beady, like a wary rodent. Olivia couldn’t have guessed the woman’s age; her face was almost unlined, but she had the attitude of an elderly schoolteacher, prim and unbending. “I hope you’re not one of those modern artists who is going to paint a lot of deformed people in weird colors and make us look bad.”
Olivia choked off a laugh. Deformed people? Really? “Danielle and Janelle have final say on what the mural looks like,” she said.
“Oh, well . . . those two.” Cassie waved her hand dismissively. “There’s no telling what they’d think was appropriate.”
Olivia started to say that being lesbian didn’t exclude a woman from having good taste but decided Cassie wouldn’t get it. “I don’t have any intention of painting deformed people in weird colors,” she said. Though if she painted Cassie Wynock, she’d be tempted to render her as a shriveled old witch with snakes for hair. The image amused her.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing. Do you have a picture of Jake Murphy? I’m thinking about putting him in the mural.”
The librarian’s transformation was remarkable to behold. Her face paled, then turned a deep red, almost purple. She rose from her chair, and when she finally spoke, her voice shook with rage. “Jacob Murphy was a terrible person who doesn’t deserve to be immortalized in any way, shape, or fashion. If you intend to put him on your mural, you’ll get no help from me.”
Whoever this Jacob Murphy was, he’d obviously done something to piss off the librarian. Olivia was beginning to like him more all the time. She stood also. “Maybe I’ll come back some other day for those books,” she said, and backed out of the room.
In the meantime, she had another idea for a person to include on her mural—not Cassie Wynock’s sainted great-grandfather, but her great-grandmother, the woman who had put up with the old reprobate. If he was half as pompous as his great-granddaughter, his wife deserved a medal.
“I call this meeting of the Eureka Town Council to order.” Lucille banged her official mayor’s gavel on the front counter of the Last Dollar, aiming for the wooden striker that had come with the hammer, but missing and hitting the side of the cash register instead, setting up an alarming jangling. She winced, but soldiered on. “All council members are present and accounted for.”
She nodded to the large front table where council members Doug Rayburn, Katya Paxton, Junior Dominick, and Paul Percival sat with cups of tea or coffee amidst the miniature pumpkins and gourds the girls had provided as a centerpiece. Katya had a steno pad open in front of her, a mechanical pencil at the ready to take the minutes of the meeting. The only sounds in the room were the shuffling of feet and the creaking of wooden chairs as various townspeople settled in for the evening’s discussion.
Katya cleared her throat. “Madam Mayor, perhaps you should read the first order of business.”
“Oh, of course.” Lucille consulted the agenda on the counter in front of her, though there was really no need. She’d written the agenda herself two days ago. “I’d like to introduce, uh, Mr. Gerald Pershing, with GP Investments. He has, um, a business proposition to make to the city.”
She didn’t miss the curious glances Janelle and Danielle exchanged from their seats in the first row of folding chairs. Lucille usually wasn’t so tongue-tied.
Gerald strode to the front of the room and Lucille sat, thankful she didn’t have to say anything else. She hated that Gerald flustered her so. Yet, she enjoyed the idea that after so many years a man could affect her this way.
“Thank you all for agreeing to hear me out tonight,” Gerald began in his velvety drawl.
Afraid of betraying too much of her emotions if she focused on Gerald, Lucille studied the council members and the members of the community as they listened to his presentation. Doug and Paul sat with arms crossed, jaws set, as if determined not to be swayed. Junior was more expressive, nodding from time to time as Gerald talked about the plight of small investors such as Eureka and his own experience helping people maximize their savings.
In the audience, Bob sat with his hands on his knees, legs apart, frowning at Gerald the way he did anyone he deemed an “outsider.” Behind him, Cassie focused on Gerald, an adoring expression on her face. Janelle and Danielle looked thoughtful, while others variously looked out the window or watched Gerald.
Gerald was masterful, presenting impressive evidence of results he’d realized for towns as diverse as Flower Mound, Texas, and Peach Springs, Arizona. “Call and talk to the people there,” he said. “They were in the same boat you were in, having to cut services to balance the budget. Now they think I’m a miracle worker.”