Chapter 38

^NOVEMBER^

It was Saturday, November first.

After each Halloween, a large group of people volunteered to clean the city after little kids and teenagers created disasters on the thirty-first.

I didn’t mind the little kids. They were cute in their costumes, running around to collect candy. It was funny to watch them. The only disaster they left behind was a few candy-package leftovers scattered on the sidewalks or lawns.

It was the teenagers and high-schoolers who created a mess out of the town. I didn’t like them. They dirtied the park and graffitied some walls, and TP’ed houses and trees. Nothing too extreme, but it was a headache to clean up. Except for that one time a group of high-schoolers tried to burn the gazebo in the middle of the town’s park and stole food from a café. They had also vandalized the school, destroying property in the library and classrooms.

People in town didn’t know who belonged to the group that had vandalized the school, but it had to be the same ones who almost lit the park on fire. Their pranks were out of proportion and dangerous.

I was praying they had grown up and moved away to college so they could leave our small town alone.

As I headed to the church where the volunteers gathered to start the cleaning quest, I looked around, seeing if anything was brutally vandalized. Thankfully, it was the usual pranks.

Normally, in the park, a group of mothers divided groups, assigning groups specific tasks and reorganizing with the help of the police and town mayor. However, when I arrived, I noticed a few people gathered around, frowning and looking worried.

The head of community service, Mrs. Wilkins, was frowning and rubbing her face like she was tired and had a headache.

The group was hushed. When I approached them, they stopped talking. It felt ominous, like there was a secret among them.

I smiled at them, feeling a bit nervous and sensing the heavy atmosphere. “Good morning, everyone.”

Mrs. Wilkins turned to me and gave me a weak smile. “Good morning, Hazel.” She glanced down at her wristwatch. “We are waiting another five minutes before we start.”

I nodded, understanding the dismissal, and headed to the back as I looked around. From what I could see, it was going to take a while to clean the town, mostly all day Saturday. Gratefully, I didn’t have to head to the diner until this evening. I swapped shifts so I could help with the cleanup.

A few more people arrived before Mrs. Wilkins turned to them. She spoke through a megaphone.

“Good morning, everyone. I hope you are well rested because today is going to be an active day.” She earned a few chuckles. “I want to thank you all for joining and helping us keep this town clean and organized. I’m glad to see old faces. But I’m thankful for the new ones too. Welcome.”

I craned my neck and waved to familiar faces. Rosie was there with her twins, who had their arms crossed, longing to be elsewhere. I chuckled. They were probably friends with the teenagers who had TP’ed a few trees.

My eyes roamed around until I saw a new face. Only one. I blanched. It was Jackson, and he was standing all the way in the back, away from the public eye.

He was leaning casually against a tree, his hands in his pockets. I frowned.

What was he doing here?

He had never shown interest in helping clean up the town. Never. In fact, I was expecting Graham to show up instead so he could keep pretending to care. Apparently, he was done faking it.

I was itchy to approach Jackson and demand he state his intentions but refrained from doing so. He was probably here to cause more disaster. I’d have to keep a close eye on him.

“Every year we split into groups to clean different sections of the town,” Mrs. Wilkins continued. “This year, unfortunately, there is a new task. Donated clothes have gone missing.”

My head snapped back to the front. I scowled at the information.

Mrs. Wilkins looked annoyed and bothered, but not angry or desperate. “We believe it was a prank and some kids thought it’d be funny to hide them. So we are creating a new group with people who can help us retrieve them, maybe some tall people who can reach difficult hiding spots.”

The hairs on my back stood up and something made me glance over my shoulder at Jackson again. I squinted at his face, studying his expression, but he was solemn and wasn’t giving anything away.

Were the stolen clothes a prank by the football team, and Jackson was there to pretend they were innocent? Why would criminals come and clean up their own messes? The only reason could be to not be thought of as criminals. To hide their agenda. To act innocent.

Mrs. Wilkins resumed the explanation about the dynamics between groups and how we would be distributed. I had to clean the park, remove the TP, and throw the candy wrappers away.

Jackson belonged to the new search party, appointed to find the missing clothes.

I squirmed at the thought. There was no way he could have known he would be appointed to that group, but would he make it harder for the search party to find the clothes? Would he laugh as he misled them?

I was skeptical about Jackson. Once he passed by me, he spotted me, and his lips curled into a smile. I couldn’t figure out if it was genuine or not.

“Hey, Hazel.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Jackson.”

He wasn’t deterred by my cold greeting. He nodded. “St. Claire sends his greetings.”

He moved away before I could answer. A small group of three other guys followed Jackson.

I exhaled and tried to focus on my task instead. I spent the rest of the day cleaning, but also thinking about the missing clothes. I only prayed Jackson would lead the group to one box, at least. Anything.

But when two hours had passed, one of the guys from the search party returned and shook his head at Mrs. Wilkins. She looked exasperated.

“Continue looking for them,” she commanded. “They have to be someplace. Maybe on trees or roofs. Ask around if anyone saw something weird last night. A few guys running around with boxes aren’t hard to miss.”

By the time I was done, sweat was sliding down my back and chest from moving around. I was exhausted but still needed to head to the diner. However, I couldn’t leave yet. Not until I found Jackson and talked to him.

He came back five minutes later, no boxes in sight. The other guys from the search party came back empty-handed too.

I bristled and stormed toward him, my jaw clenching.

“Can we talk?” I demanded in a low voice.

Jackson glanced at me. He seemed a bit weary from the search, but not worn out. He nodded and followed me to the side. I crossed my arms and made sure no one was eavesdropping on our private chat.

“Where are they?” I demanded.

Jackson’s brow furrowed in bemusement. “Who?”

“Not who. What. The clothes, Jackson,” I hissed. “I know the football team took them.” I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like something Graham would do in the past. It was his old MO, to hide stuff and drive the other owner crazy.

Jackson chuckled and shook his head like the notion was ridiculous. “Don’t know what you are talking about, Hazel.”

I disliked the fact that I couldn’t read him. “Don’t act stupid. Have you been trying to mislead us all day? Because it isn’t funny,” I growled. “You’re wasting their time and those are donated clothes. This affects people. These people need these clothes for winter, or they’ll get sick. Or worse, they could freeze to death. They need something to wear because their old clothes are worn out or don’t fit anymore. You want that kind of weight on your conscience?”

Jackson pressed his lips together, not amused anymore. For a second there, I believed he would tell me. I believed I had moved him, and he was willing to cooperate.

He exhaled instead, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Hazel, but I don’t know where the clothes are.”

He looked at me intently, apparently wishing to say something else.

I deduced he was being honest. He had no idea where the clothes were. But St. Claire knew where they were. He had to.

I shook my head, feeling helpless.

So now this was his plan? Return to be a bully and torment Jacob since he couldn’t use me anymore?

He hadn’t changed one bit. Deep down, I was disappointed. Some part of me was hopeful I was wrong, and Graham decided to be good.

This event was sobering. Disappointing, frustrating, and sobering.

Jackson stepped in front of me, staring at me. “What I do know is that I’ve never seen St. Claire as happy as when you two were together.” His eyes glinted with something. I ignored it.

I frowned at his words instead, since I didn’t believe them. Graham was disgusting and manipulative.