question at the same time.
She glanced around to do a quick count of council members in the gathering. Sam Lennox, the mayor; George Masterson, one of his cronies; a woman named Paula, who was a former neighbor of Lacey’s; and that new guy with the heavy New York accent. That was four. Only four?
“Would you care to explain that, Lacey?” asked Sam Lennox, a fairly reasonable mayor despite Charity’s claim to have him in her back pocket.
But Lacey was still doing the math. If there were only four present, the plan wouldn’t work. They couldn’t threaten to take notes and publish them. They couldn’t—
Her gaze fell on the face of Nora Alvarez, who headed up the Fourway Motel cleaning crew. Yes! She had been voted onto the council last month, no doubt through strings Charity and Grace pulled.
“It’s in the bylaws,” she said authoritatively. “It’s on page…”
“Four,” Clay supplied.
“Section…”
“Five-A,” he finished.
Lacey threw him a grateful look. “I’m a citizen and resident of Mimosa Key and I have the right and privilege to attend any function where all five members of the town council are present and take notes.” She beamed a smile right at Charity. “Our forefathers and -mothers were so smart and careful like that.”
“I don’t remember seeing that rule,” Nora said, sliding a look to Charity.
Mayor Lennox stood. “Actually, Lacey’s right. Come on in, Lacey. And bring your friend.”
“This is Clay Walker. He’s the architect I’ve hired to rebuild my property in Barefoot Bay.” Just saying the words made it real and right. They’d never signed a contract, but Lacey didn’t care.
They took two empty chairs slightly outside of the main circle of people and, after an awkward moment and some very dirty looks from Charity, talk continued.
Lacey tried to focus, but found herself returning the glances of her neighbors. Glo avoided eye contact altogether, but Gracie stared her down, and so did several others.
Charity remained standing as she spoke, her back to Lacey and Clay. “As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, in light of recent events we should have a brief meeting—”
“Excuse me, Charity.” Lacey interrupted and Charity turned very slowly, her dark eyes tapering.
“Yes, Miss Armstrong?” she asked with the exaggerated patience of a kindergarten teacher who doesn’t want questions. “Would you like the full spelling of my name for your report in the paper?”
“What recent events are you referring to?”
“The hurricane. Do you remember it?”
Several people laughed, but not the dark-haired young man whose name Lacey didn’t remember. “Aren’t you the one who rode it out in your bathtub with your little girl?” he asked, that nasal Bronx sounding so out of place here.
“I am,” Lacey said.
A few more mumbles and Charity’s back grew stiffer. “May I continue? As I was saying, we need to have an emergency town council meeting tomorrow to review the existing zoning restrictions as they will apply to multiple new buildings that are proposed to—”
“Excuse me, Charity.”
This interruption got a sigh of disgust that Ashley would envy. “What is it, Lacey?”
Next to her, Clay gave a little nudge with the binder he held. Taking his cue, Lacey stood. “You can’t have an emergency town council meeting that affects zoning without two weeks’ written notice.”
Charity stared at her, then tilted her head. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m right,” Lacey replied. “I have the bylaws right here.”
Charity reached under her seat and pulled out her heavily tagged binder. “Trust me, I know them. My father wrote them.”
“With my grandfather,” Lacey reminded them. She took the book from Clay, letting their fingers brush, which gave her a surprising kick of confidence. “I’d ask you to please look at…”
“Page fourteen, section three,” Clay prompted.
A few people chuckled, but not Charity. She flipped open her book and ruffled pages with slightly shaky hands.
“There is no section three on page fourteen, Lacey. Perhaps you have an outdated version.”
Was that possible? Did the library have an old version and she was about to look like a total fool? “I-I…”
“This book was notarized last year as the latest version of bylaws,” Clay said, standing next to Lacey. “I was shown the paperwork by a lady by the name of Marian.”
“Marian the Librarian,” someone said. “She’s never wrong.”
Under thick powder blush, pink circles of frustration darkened Charity’s cheeks. “Well, my version, which isn’t notarized but is quite accurate, contains no such pronouncements, Lacey, and I—”
“Let me see it,” Sam said, reaching for her book.
She held it. “No, Sam, this has been in my family for years. Only Vails