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“Hell yes. They always leave nasty reviews because we can’t give them five-star accommodations. They spend the whole weekend running around taking photos and filming without ever asking permission, demanding interviews with the folks in the houses next to the highway—half of ’em weren’t even living here at the time!—tramping over people’s property, digging up people’s land. A group of them were out there today with shovels!”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one feeling like it had been a long weekend. George had been in a much better mood Friday night.
“Hopefully, it’s good for business at least,” I said. Simon Overhiser had seemed to think so.
“It depends on the business,” George said darkly. “We do okay out of it, but not everyone thinks it’s worth the headache. Last year a group of girls nearly burned down one of our cabins with their curling irons.” He sighed. “I know. Not your problem. What did you two want to drink?”
I ordered ginger ale. Rory ordered tonic and lime. George raised his brows and went to get our drinks.
“Hey, stranger.” Hailey draped her arm around my neck. “Where’ve you been all day?” She eyed Rory without particular warmth. “I feel like I know you from somewhere.”
“You look familiar,” he agreed straight-faced.
She tossed her head back and laughed. I saw that somewhere along the line she’d lost one of her nose piercings.
I said, “I saw you at Weber’s reading. It was too crowded to come over and say hi.”
“What did you think?”
I lifted a shoulder.
Hailey said, “We all came here for drinks afterward, and your name came up.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “Why would it?”
“Weber heard Pat gave you an interview.” She chuckled. “He wasnothappy.”
“I can’t control who Pat chooses to talk to.”
“Oh,Iknow. But you know how long Weber’s been trying to interview Pat?”
The three of us were scrunched up against the bar. Rory was close behind me—and given the press of people around us,veryclose behind me. In fact, I was acutely, distractingly aware of his crotch in direct proximity to my ass. I could feel his warmth all the length of my back, feel his breath on my nape.
I said, “The problem with Weber using Deirdre’s case as the basis of his personal memoir is that her story became Weber’s story. I’m guessing Pat is sensitive about the idea of anyone trying to profit off their family tragedy.”
Also, I knew what Pat would think of a guy who wore a fedora, let alone a fedora that was two sizes too small for him. Sometimes it’s the little things.
“Oh,totes,” Hailey said. “Even if Pat considered talking to Weber at one time, he’d never give him the time of day after Weber basically accused him of molesting his daughter.”
“Jesus,” Rory said.
“Did you miss that part?” I asked.
“I guess so.”
“In fairness, Weber’s backed off that theory in the last few years.”
“Still hoping for an interview,” Hailey said cynically.
“Maybe. I tend to give him credit for recognizing it was a stupid theory to start with. There’s absolutely zero evidence to support it. Quite the opposite.”
Rory said, “I was focused on the idea of a tandem driver.”
Hailey and I both groaned, and Hailey said, “I gotta go pee.”
She disappeared into the crowd, and I turned to face Rory, which meant we were practically nose to nose. He smiled into my eyes.
That smile. That smile did things to me.
