Everyone: I apologize for the delay in updates. The last several days have been unexpectedly busy and FF took a back seat. However, I hope you will enjoy the double update today. Please continue to Chapter 27 after you finish this 26.
Chapter 26 - Mayberry
Time passed quickly with the changing seasons, drawing into its lungs the last warm breath of late summer, exhaling the cool, spicy autumn air into their midst. It was just before Thanksgiving when Bella went nervously before the council to ask for their partnership. In truth, she felt more like a child, asking for forgiveness rather than the confidant woman she had become. In a small way, she saw this as a peace offering between herself and the Quileute. Though she'd done nothing wrong, Bella feared that those who did not know her well would believe the worst of her. After all, she was a leech lover, had nearly driven the future chief to the brink of madness and was an outsider to boot.
Jacob wanted to go with her, to stand by her side when she met with the council, but Bella staunchly refused. The most he could do was drop his father off and wish her luck. "I'll come see you when it's over," she'd promised.
On the morning of the meeting Bella sat in the kitchen of her childhood home, nervously eating a light breakfast with Charlie. Today was a big day for them both. The doctor- and more importantly, Sue- had given him a clean bill of health, signalling his return back to work in the sleepy town of Forks.
A knot of dread formed in the pit of Bella's stomach. Ever bite of toast she attempted to swallow made her throat feel clogged and dry. Concern and worry, laced with fear built up inside until she thought it would eat her alive. The tail of the old kit-kat clock swayed, its eyes following her across the room when she placed her dishes in the sink. Each second that passed echoed loudly, threatening to sever the fine wire of her shot nerves.
At last Charlie stood up from the faded, old formica table, draining the last bit of coffee from his favorite, chipped mug. Strapping the holster on his hip, Charlie felt a sense of homecoming, patting and welcoming it like an old friend. There was a keen sense of self-satisfaction that surrounded him when he turned to his only daughter, the keys to his squad car jingling in his hand. "Knock em dead today, kiddo."
"You too, dad, but not literally, okay?" Bella walked over to him, pretending to straighten the collar of his shirt, while her forehead creased with concern. "I want you to take it easy. No going overboard on your first day back," she admonished. "Remember what the doctors told you. You've got a clean bill of health, but your body is still healing even if you can't see it." What she really wanted to say was...retire...don't patrol anymore... find a nice cabin and spend your weekends fishing with Billy... settle down with Sue. But, Bella knew better. Her father thrived on work. The gentle rhythm of his days passed by with blacktop under his tires and fresh woodland air flowing on the breeze. It was what sustained him, just as surely as the endless take-out supplied by the knockabout diner around the corner.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he agreed, waving her off. "Today's gonna be about paperwork anyway. I'm sure I've got a bunch of things I need to sign off on and internal affairs has been breathing down Paul's neck over that suicide. Apparently something was wrong with the surveillance and the cameras didn't catch it. Don't know why they care," he grumbled. "M.E. already signed off on it stating there was no foul play. Bureaucratic assholes."
"Just promise me you'll take it easy," she wheedled. "No patrolling."
"Yes Mom. I'll promise not to get shot on my first day back if you'll promise to have dinner with your old man tonight to celebrate."
"I promise," she agreed, knowing his real plan was probably to deviate from the healthy diet he'd been subjected to under Sue's ever watchful eyes.
With that in mind, Bella climbed into her truck, driving the twenty minutes to the reservation. Matt called her to say he and Leah would meet her there. Bella sighed, barely able to hear him over the roar of the engine. It was inevitable that she'd have to get something else to drive. She hated to do it, but going back and forth between Port Angeles and Forks in the old beast was not very practical. At best, she'd keep the old girl to use on the weekends, knowing she could never fully part with it.
When the tribal hall loomed in front of her, Bell drew up all of her courage and walked inside, hoping that nobody would see that she was really shaking with nervousness. For all the world she felt like a pimply-faced freshman on the first day of school.
This wasn't like the other tribes she'd pitched. A few had turned her down, but it was part of the business. Trust didn't always come easy to people who'd had their dignity stripped away over multiple generations. After they saw the success other reservations had, they would be calling her to get a slice of the pie. That was how this worked. But this was an account she wanted. A partnership that meant more to her than any others she'd forged in the past. Billy was in her corner, that much she knew. Sue was too. The problem was both of them would abstain from the vote citing a conflict of interest. Though, their opinions would be taken under heavy consideration.
The meeting quickly got underway, beginning with the council members going over the status of projects around the reservation before going on to new business. Just as she had risen to address the group, a slight rustling ensued behind the table when the door at the back of the room opened and Paul Lahote quietly slipped in to watch the proceedings.
"Welcome, officer. Something we can do for you today?" Sue greeted him warmly, pleased to see a member of the pack. Over time, Paul had become an influential member of the tribe both by his marriage to Rachel and his role in law enforcement.
"Just here to observe, if that's alright."
"Of course. Members of the tribe are always welcome at any time," she smiled, turning to Bella. "Miss Swan, you may proceed."
Trying to still the shaking of her hands, Bella faced the council, outlining contracts, what the tribe stood to gain or lose if they chose to decline the partnership. When one member voiced his opposing opinion, Bella reminded him that even if the tribe did not participate, it would not stop individual members from submitting their own pieces to the gallery. In turn, they would receive full profit. The point being made was that she didn't need their backing or their permission, but wanted it. Having the endorsement went a very long way with larger clients, not to mention the legal ramifications of using tribal logos and information.
Further strengthening her stance, she listed the tribes that had already agreed. Billy smiled when he saw Abe Whitefeather's face twist in anger. Having prepped Bella ahead of time, he let her know that the second she brought up the Makah, the council would swing in her favor. For too long, the Quileute had disallowed such projects from outsiders that would aid them financially. The Makah had been much more forward thinking and had become a model of success, something that was a bone of contention now within the council. If this offer was turned down, when it came time for the people to vote, surely a few members would lose their seats. Not something they were willing to give up especially when the monetary numbers were made publicly known to those who needed money the most.
At this point, someone in the audience cleared their throat. Bella turned just as Paul Lahote rose to his feet.
"If I may, I know that I have no business here, but I'd like to offer my opinion on this matter."
Bella's heart sank to her knees. If a pack member such as Paul opposed this plan, it would likely spell her doom. Paul was not her biggest fan and she knew it. Even having Leah in her corner on this would not help sway the council. This man was a police officer whose opinion was highly sought out and moreover, a leader among the spirit warriors. In that second, Bella was sure she was screwed.
The council motioned for him to come forward to take the floor and Bella helplessly sat back down in her seat, the hard-back chair feeling like it was covered in rusty nails gouging at her flesh. She was about to witness the deal she'd worked so hard for fall to pieces before her very eyes.
"It is not the way of our people to bring in an outsider who wishes to profit from our way of life," he began. "This has been our downfall since the white man first set foot on our lands."
A small murmuring of agreement rose from the few members who seemed to be on the fence regarding the deal, adding to the dread building in Bella's stomach.
"However," Paul went on, "It seems to me that it would be quite prudent to accept this offer. Not only are we being offered a chance to showcase the talent of our people, but this could be quite lucrative for a number of households. There are young people such as Brady and Collin Whitefeather that excel in leatherworking, Emily Young who is an excellent weaver, Kim Cameron paints the traditional masks of our people, and of course Jacob Black who has built a business around such a venture. Something like this could enable him to hire people like Sam Uley or Embry Call who can treat wood and animal hides to be used for projects. Moreover, as a police officer, I think that something like this could be used to the advantage of the young people in our community, giving them a reason to study some of the skills of the older generation and keep them out of trouble."
Bella was speechless. Paul had singled out a good portion of the pack, reminding the council in his own roundabout way that steady jobs were not something the wolves could hang onto if they were expected to keep the borders of LaPush safe from the cold ones. Why he had taken her side in this, she would never know, but glancing up at the faces of the council members, she knew he had swayed their opinions and effectively handed her the paperwork, signed, sealed and delivered.
000OOO000
Jacob was waiting in his father's kitchen when he heard the familiar rumble of a truck pull into the driveway. Racing out to the porch, he watched as the door opened and Bella's long, lean legs unfolded from inside of the truck.
His eyes roamed over her, scanning her from head to toe. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement and her eyes sparkled with hard won victory. She looked utterly stunning, dressed in a black turtleneck and a long gray wool skirt with slits up the sides that showed the shape of her hips and thighs. Tall, black leather boots with delicate heels gave way to legs that seemed to stretch upward like stems. The curls of her hair tumbled in auburn waves down her back, wild and free. Yes, Bella Swan was all he'd ever wanted, all the woman he'd ever need.
Jacob raced off the porch, scooping her into his arms, hugging her the way he had when they were nothing more than awkward teenagers. "You did it! I told you it would work!"
Billy laughed from inside the truck cab. "She knocked them on their asses, is what she did son. The old fools. They never knew what hit 'em."
Jacob's eyes twinkled with delight, wishing he had been there. "Did she now?"
"Well, it wasn't all me," she hedged, laughing along with them. "I had some help from an unexpected source," she replied, grinning when Jacob's eyebrows raised in question and Billy whooped again with delight over the devilment of it all. Bella planted a swift kiss on his cheek, then reached for her cell. "Tell you later. Get your dad inside while I call mine."
000OOO000
Charlie Swan reluctantly hung up the phone. Thrilled as he was for his daughter, there was no way he'd be able to keep his promise to help her celebrate tonight.
Scattered across his desk were the countless crime scene images and paperwork surrounding his shooting and the subsequent suicide of the man apprehended for the crime. Something about the whole thing bothered him. There was nothing in front of him to suggest that the death was anything other than another drug addict whose delusional mind couldn't face the idea of being behind bars without a daily fix. But the cop in Charlie, the detective that always lurked just beneath the surface, was absolutely certain that there was more to the story.
When Paul returned from lunch carrying two large paper bags smelling like burritos from the Mexican joint up the street, Charlie urged him to sit on the other side of the desk.
"Find anything to make I.A. quit breathing down our necks?" he asked hopefully, while spreading out napkins, chips and salsa and more food than two men could possibly eat. The Chief's eyes were wide as saucers over the buffet, his mouth salivating after weeks of junk food denial.
Charlie laughed. "I think they'll leave us alone now that I'm back. They love to toss their weight around when there's a rookie... and son, no offense, but you're still a rookie in their eyes. Anyone below the rank of Sheriff doesn't command much of their respect."
Paul waved it off, unwrapping a burrito the size of his forearm. "None taken. So, case closed, then?"
"I think so..." Charlie replied, sour cream dripping down his chin. "Although, I still can't for the life of me understand what happened to the surveillance footage."
"Yeah, I don't know," Paul hedged. "Just a fluke I guess. Seems to be working now."
"Either that or someone was sniffing around my office, looking to play with fire."
Charlie grinned internally. His carefully chosen words having the exact effect on Paul that he'd hoped they would. The young man blanched visibly before pulling on a cool mask of indifference. As far as he knew, Charlie was just another Andy Griffith, hoping to get lucky solving a crime while unwinding his fishing reel over root beers... or cold bottles of Ranier. But this wasn't Mayberry and he definitely wasn't affable Sheriff Taylor. "Well, whatever the case may be, it's over and done with now. Still some things I'd like to know, but now that the guy is dead, I guess we'll never find out."
"I suppose so," Paul replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. As if the matter of a dead drug addict made no nevermind to him. "One more addict off the streets, if you ask me."
But Charlie wasn't to be deterred. "Take that coat the guy wore, for example. Where did he get it? Everything else he had on was half shredded and reeked of day old beer. The fella had all of two dollars and seventy-five cents in his pocket. Not even enough to buy a happy meal, let alone a coat or eight ball of coke."
"Probably stole it," commented Paul, between bites of burrito.
"But where from?" Charlie questioned doggedly. "Anyone 'round these parts woulda' noticed a character like him walking into a place nice enough to get his hands on something like that. The gun bothers me too. No serial numbers on it, obviously hot. Hell, it was a police special. But, even on the streets you have to be able to trade something big for a number like that. Just doesn't make much sense, that's all I'm saying."
Paul swallowed hard, hoping that his boss would let go soon. He didn't relish the thought of getting caught red-handed when it came to erasing those tapes, although it would be nothing more than sheer speculation on Charlie's part. "Well, like you said, we'll never know, I guess," he pointed out, wadding up the wrapper from his lunch and stuffing it back into the bag. "Gotta get back to work," he stated, offering a smile. "The bossman here is a real hardass."
Charlie leaned back in his chair and chortled. "You do that. I want the rest of the paperwork on my desk by the end of the day." The boy was almost out the door when he called after him one last time. "Oh and Paul... one more thing. How did Jake and the others happen to be there when I was shot? From what I understand they were there before you."
The knuckles of Paul's fingers turned bright white, gripping the door handle tightly, filling Charlie Swan a smug sense of satisfaction. "Yeah, they were uh, hiking," he fumbled, sounding like a kid getting busted by his parents for smoking pot out in the woods. "Jake and a couple other guys have been working with some of the teens on the rez. They were out scouting sites for camping and stuff. Nothing out of the ordinary."
The old cop nodded in approval. "Well, I'll have to make it a point to donate to their cause. Teaching those pups how to survive in the wilderness is important. Never know what you're gonna run into out there," he stated slyly, loving the fact that he was reducing the boy into a shaking ball of nerves. I know your furry secret, he thought.
"What do you mean?" stammered Paul, thrown by the pack references that the Chief kept tossing out. It was if the old goat knew something.
"Oh, you know," he said, waving his hands dramatically. "Bears, wolves, the stray mountain lion. There were quite a few problems with them several years ago. That's why it scared me so bad when that asshole boyfriend of my daughter left her in the woods. I thought for sure she was gonna be eaten alive before we got to her. Good thing Billy called Sam and you that day. Don't know what I would've done if you boys hadn't found her when you did. Looks like me and my daughter both owe you boys our lives."
At this, Paul's face darkened, his eyes narrowed and if Charlie didn't know better, he would have sworn he saw the tinge of gold ring his eyes. "That Cullen kid was trouble. I hope that family never comes back to these parts again."
When Paul left the office, Charlie Swan laced his fingers behind his neck, leaned back in his chair and smiled. Yessir, life is good. My little girl is calling me daddy and she's back where she belongs. I get to mess with the best detective I ever had and he has no idea how much I know about him. The Seahawks are on a winning streak and there's cold beer in my fridge. Yessiree, life is just about perfect.
Outside his office window, dark storm clouds were rolling in, threatening to spoil the day. Unfortunately, he realized, perfect never lasts.