Janet fills the silence anyway. "Jake says he's headed to some bull riding circuit up in Utah, trying to ride off his heartbreak.”
The image of Wyatt throwing himself at bulls because Brittney and her father destroyed our future makes me sick to my stomach.
“And being saddled with the senator’s daughter sounds like a nightmare,” Janet continues talking, her voice carrying the casual certainty of someone sharing common knowledge. "I just don't know what kind of marriage they're going to have with his future father-in-law trying to take the Halloway land and all."
The world stops.
Every sound—the tick of the wall clock, even my own heartbeat—fades into nothing as those words echo in my skull.
"I'm sorry, what?!"
"What, what?" she asks.
"What do you mean Senator Martinez is trying to take their land?" My gears start turning again. "Has he already started investigations?" That dirty slime ball is probablypressuring Wyatt because he hasn't hauled Brittney off to Vegas for a quick wedding.
"Um," Janet says, clearly surprised by the edge in my voice, "Just the first one."
"First?" I need clarification. "How many is he going to file and when? I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it’s important. What did he file?"
"The fire hazard designation." She speaks slowly, like I'm not as smart as she thought I was. "The one you planned the whole party for? He’s the one who spearheaded the fire hazard rezoning in the first place.”
I’m thrown back in my chair by the news. “How do you know this?” I am in shock. We never got to the bottom of the paperwork. The trail led to lower-level government employees, and I didn’t dig any deeper.
“Oh, I was in the state offices when his office initiated the process months ago. They were all buzzing about how this was going to ensure his reelection this November.”
The pieces click together with horrible clarity.
All my careful political maneuvering: the evening designed to bring together ranchers and politicians; my brilliant strategy of positioning Martinez as their savior, the man who could solve their crisis with a single phone call—I was dancing to Martinez's tune from the very beginning.
He’d created the problem so he could offer the solution.
It’s brilliant. He positioned himself as the only hope while holding the knife to the family’s throat, forcing Wyatt to marry Brittney.
And I walked right into his trap, dragging the Halloway family with me.
I can’t believe he played me.
My brain fog clears and gears chug back to life.
Actually, Martinez probably didn’t expect the Halloways to hire me. He probably assumed he’d be dealing with Wyatt and maybe Sarah—who is a formidable opponent in her own right but who wouldn’t have the ability to put any real pressure on him.
I look at the game board from his position and see the way he countered my moves. But there was one thing he couldn’t foresee and that was Wyatt falling in love with me. He didn’t foresee it, but he didn’t think it would be a problem.
That’s where he’s wrong.
I’m the trump card and it’s about time I started acting like it. "Janet, can you get me copies of those records? The filing dates, correspondence, everything?"
"Of course," she says immediately. "I'll have them to you by this afternoon. Something's not right about all this, is it?"
"No," I say, but I’m smiling wickedly. "Something's very, very wrong."
After I hang up with Janet, I sit down to map out what happened. When I fill a sheet of paper, I tear it off and lay it next to the one before until I have a full timeline. The picture is diabolical and disturbing on so many levels.
Martinez used his own daughter as both bait and beneficiary, betting that Wyatt's honor and loyalty to his family would bind him more effectively than any feelings he may or may not have had for Brittney.
The violation of the trust instilled in him as a public figure makes disgust rise in my throat. Using federal agencies as weapons to play matchmaker for his spoiled child isdisgusting and I’m betting voters will feel the same way I do about it.
But what makes me furious is how he weaponized Wyatt's loyalty—his best quality—into a trap that would lock him into a miserable life he never chose.