If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [28]
“What were they convicted for?”
“Lawson Swain, Paul’s dad, was a couple years older than Joe and me. A big bully. Went to prison for killing his girlfriend. And everyone knows he killed his wife—the mother of his kids—though no one could prove it.”
“Where is he now?” Sean asked.
“Lawson is dead. Rumor has it he led a prison riot, and was stabbed to death by a fellow inmate with a knife made from a tube of toothpaste. But Paul was already ten times shrewder than his dad. Paul was the one and only drug dealer in Spruce Lake. Hooked a whole generation of kids, but not just here. He was selling everywhere. What did they call it? Distributing? Had a house where they made that chemical drug.”
“Methamphetamine?” Lucy prompted.
“That’s it, I think. Well, there was a big sting, and Paul and a dozen others were arrested. The press—state and national—were here, reporters from television to newspapers to radio. We all had short tempers then. The way the media depicted our little town was nothing short of slander. As if we were all drug dealers. They didn’t understand that anyone who stood up to the Swains were dead. We just did what we had to do to survive. And that’s why most of us don’t cotton to strangers.”
“You mean you knew what was going on?” Adam asked.
“We didn’t know, not as fact, but Joe and I suspected Paul was doing something illegal. It was easier to ignore it. Safer.” He shook his head. “Your dad only had you two months out of the year. He only showed you the good side of Spruce Lake.”
Adam seemed distraught, and Lucy said, “What happened after Paul Swain went to prison? Did things improve?”
“That’s a matter of perspective.”
“Perspective?”
“The devil you know …” Henry’s voice faded away.
“Henry,” Adam began, but then Henry smiled meekly and waved his hand.
“Ignore me. I’m just feeling old today.”
Lucy glanced at Sean. He was thinking the same thing she was—something secret was going on and Henry Callahan knew what it was. But he was scared or too intimidated to talk.
Sean said, “What do you think about the vandalism at the Hendricksons’? Is it simply someone who doesn’t want change or someone who doesn’t want growth?”
“I honestly don’t know. Tim … he may be Joe’s son, but he’s not like Adam. He hasn’t been here in years. People don’t know him or trust him.” Henry looked at Adam. “You’re part of Spruce Lake. Tim isn’t. No one’s going to trust him.”
Lucy suspected it was more than that. She said, “The vandalism may be about distrust of Tim, but it’s also about stopping the resort. Who benefits if the resort doesn’t open?”
“I think the question you should be asking is, who is hurt if the resort opens?”
Henry excused himself and shuffled to the bathroom, stopping twice to talk to patrons.
“What does he mean?” Adam asked.
“The devil you know,” Sean muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“I need more information about the Swains, and what happened to their drug operation. I think there may be a new player in town, far more dangerous than local boy Swain.”
“But what does that have to do with the resort?” Adam asked.
Lucy explained. “If there’s a criminal enterprise in town, anything that upsets the apple cart is a threat.”
Lucy again felt the chill of being watched. She glanced at the bar, and this time saw a man staring right at her. He had stringy brown hair to his shoulders, a red plaid shirt, and a partial beard. Seeing her look his way, he winked. She turned away.
Sean picked up on her discomfort and followed her gaze to the bar. “Who’s that guy?” he asked Adam.
“Gary Clarke,” he said. “Don’t know anything about him, just that his family has been in town forever.”
“And the guy he’s sitting with?”
“Andy Knolls. He owns the Gas-n-Go. One pump, small grocery store—we passed it driving in. He’s a nice enough guy, used to give out lollipops whenever kids came into the gas station.”
“We need to put together a Spruce Lake family tree, so to speak,” Lucy said. “Maybe if we can see the connections between the people in town, something will stand out.”