You have the nerve now, Addie says. That's what matters. Frank joins them most evenings. Memory sharp despite the years filling in gaps, names, dates. A land deal from 9 years ago that never quite added up.
Slowly, carefully, a picture starts to form. Still incomplete, still dangerous to touch, but real for the first time in 9 years. On the fourth night, Josie walks home from the diner alone again. Addie offered to walk with her. Josie insisted on doing this part herself.
Old habits, old discipline, the kind that doesn't let go easily. The same dark sedan is waiting near the corner. Same as every night, except tonight it doesn't stay parked. It pulls slowly alongside her instead. The window rolls down.
Josie's hand drifts toward her pocket out of instinct. It's not Grant. It's not anyone she expected. An older man leans across the seat, face-lined, eyes tired. "You should be more careful, " he says quietly.
"This town isn't as sleepy as it looks. Who are you? Josie asks steady despite the sudden tightness in her chest. Someone who used to work for Whitmore Construction, he says. A long time ago.
Someone who's been watching this town make the same mistake for years. What mistake? Josie asks, letting fear decide what's true? The man says. I did it once myself.
I'm still paying for it. Wait, Josie says. What's your name? The man hesitates. Hand already on the window switch.
Not yet, he says. But I kept records once, real ones, before they got quietly replaced. Give me a little more time. I might finally be ready to talk. Before she can ask another question, he rolls the window back up.
The car pulls away slowly, tail lights fading into the dark. Josie stands there a long moment, heart pounding despite her calm exterior. She pulls out her notebook right there on the sidewalk, hands steady, writes down every detail she can remember. The voice, the face, the words. Someone else knows something, she writes.
Someone scared enough to hide. Brave enough to warn me. Two days left. She underlines it twice. Whatever happens at that council meeting, it won't be quiet.
Not anymore. The next morning, Rosie calls Josie and Addie into the diner before opening. Her face is pale, a folded letter trembling slightly in her hand. The council sent this over last night, she says. She reads it aloud, voice cracking halfway through.
Due to ongoing legal concerns regarding diner staff, the hearing has been moved up two days from now. Same time as always planned, but with a warning attached. Any unresolved criminal matters could result in immediate denial of renewal. They're using the theft accusation, Addie says grimly. Exactly like we thought they would.