Going Coastal ✦ Chapter Seven
A town meeting is called and Maura's integrity is put into question.
Read chapter six here.
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Author’s Note: Just want to wish a very happy Mother’s Day to the most amazing mama, who champions my work every day. I’m so so so lucky to have you as a best friend and happy I get to spend today celebrating you! xo
The drive to the high school was eerily quiet, like every trip she’d taken in that Godforsaken town since she’d arrived 36 hours previous. The sun had gone down, and the fog had rolled in, making it near impossible to see the road. She had awkward ridden in the backseat of the Chief’s truck, Gladys sniffling in the passenger’s seat in front of her. She felt wildly out of place, and she wished the hair on the back of her neck would go down.
The Sheriff sped through town, the static of his police radio was the only thing cutting the silence. He ripped past stop signs and swerved through the fog like it wasn’t even there. She noticed his strong jaw twitching from clenched to unclenched beneath his beard. When they’d finally arrived, the well-lit parking lot of the high school was full of cars, the most she’d seen on her entire stay.
She awkwardly climbed out after Gladys, throwing her purse over her shoulder and pulling her jacket closer around her. She hadn’t been in public in that state for months now, not since her last hiccup at work, and she felt incredibly self conscious. The other police officers filed in behind them, and the group entered the tiny school as a team, holding the door for one another and pushing through like a school of fish.
The gymnasium was larger than she expected, with the bleachers pulled out on one side. A podium sat at center court, covering a large painting of something winged. Another painting on the wall confirmed that it was a bird of prey, a falcon, maybe, and from the vantage point of the door they’d squeezed through, it looked like it was hovering over all of the terrified people waiting to be addressed. The townsfolk in the bleachers quivered like mice in a field, ready to be picked off one by one.
The lump grew in her throat, and she was prodded toward the empty front row of the stands, to join the mice. She noticed many terrified eyes as they approached, and she had to stare at her feet to avoid eye contact. She could still feel the terrified gazes though, and a blush crept to her cheeks.
She had planned to sit near Gladys, but the woman was off clutching the hands of other town’s women. So, frantic to turn her back to the audience, she plopped down in the closest open seat, clutching her purse to her chest. “I’ll come find you guys after,” a voice from beside her startled her, and she turned to see Jack waving off Jules and Bobby, who were finding seats beside their family members.
He jumped too, once he realized she’d occupied the seat beside him. He stiffened slightly, and her voice squeaked. “Oh sorry, should I sit up there?” She whispered, moving her purse.
“No, no,” his strong hand was on her arm, holding her to her spot. It was a feeling she’d grown used to by now, only his grip wasn’t as firm as it once was. It now felt soft, almost caring. “Just stay here with me. This could get ugly.” He mumbled.
For the first time in hours, they met eyes. His were exhausted, black bags forming underneath them. The whites of the eyes were now red and veined, bringing out an odd, warm tinge in the brown. His eyelashes were long, clumped together with the hint of tears. His gaze was concerned, warning. She chewed at her lip, emotion filling her. She wanted to apologize, apologize for how she’d treated him, for her accusations, for his loss. But instead, she nodded, trying to convey apology in her own eyes.
He removed his hand from her arm and turned back to the podium. She followed suit and heard the crowd die down around her. Silence pierced the air, ringing in her ears, and a man she’d never seen before reached the podium. He was well-dressed, with grey hair and a frown etched in the wrinkles on his forehead. He was rotund and short, pulling the microphone to his mouth with sausage fingers. His licked his lips, staring down at the sheet of paper before him before he spoke.
“Fellow townspeople,” he started. His voice echoed in the large hall, sending chills down her spine. Silence followed his echo. She suddenly became very aware of the lack of paper shuffling, the lack of camera shutters, the lack of flashing lights. This was not a normal place she’d found herself in. She’d been swallowed up whole.
“You may have heard rumors in the last 24 hours,” the man continued. “As your mayor, it is my responsibility to discourage any sort of gossip or slander. These lies bring nothing but chaos and unrest to a peaceful community such as ours. That being said, something tragic has happened these past few days.”
Whispering enveloped the room. Maura thought she heard a woman hiss ‘reporter’ behind her, and she reflexively turned on her shoulder. A woman she recognized sat a few rows behind her, shooting daggers. Panic stung at her chest. She turned back, staring at the maroon paint on the ground under her toes.
The Mayor made some shushing sounds, attempting to silence the ruckus with outstretched hands. After a moment, the room was silent once again. “Sheriff Trohman is here to explain these events to you and give you detailed instructions. Please give him your undivided attention.”
The old man waddled away from the podium and pulled himself into a chair just beside it. An elderly woman sat next to him, clutching his hand in her own. The Chief lumbered from his seat on the bleachers and over to the podium. He towered over it, moving the microphone up to full height. It reached his shirt collar. He hunched slightly, his large hands gripping either side of the podium. He stood for a moment in total silence, breathing belabored breaths. Maura could feel her own chest rising and falling at the same, rapid rate.
The tension in the room couldn’t be cut. Everyone was anxiously awaiting the news their Sheriff had for them, and he was anxiously avoided breaking the news. She imagined he thought he’d never have to do this. He probably never thought he’d have to relive the horror of ten years past. A lump of sympathy rose in her throat, and she closed her eyes, trying not to focus on how tragic the situation was. It was impossible.
