“It was easy. Because it’s true. You’re the best at this, by far.” He looked at her tenderly.
And all of a sudden, she saw Fletcher again for the first time. This gorgeous lanky boy with the cheerful nature, full of ambition and wit. And now, as she’d witnessed, a total gentleman. She loved a man who stuck up for others. For a moment, Dot wondered if she’d been too quick to dismiss the idea of her and Fletcher. She even imagined she could forget all about the bee incident. Could chivalry erase an ick? It felt possible in the moment. Maybe Fletcher was someone she should consider giving a second chance.
But before she could think about that more, Fletcher was pulling out her seat for her and she sat down. Stanford Michael and his wife were at the other end of the table. She locked eyes with Rose, silently thanking her for the quick thinking on the seating arrangement.
“So, what is everyone in the mood for?” Kitty said, hiding her face behind the menu. Dot could only imagine what she was thinking—but it was probably that her Georgetown parties were much better than this.
ON THE MORNINGof Senator Lopez’s visit to Cedar Falls, Mary heard Dot leave the house before dawn. She reached for her phone and texted her friend, “Good luck!”
“Thanks—it’s make or break,” Dot replied.
Mary felt the same way about the Taylor farm’s fight against the government. She was due at Duncan’s Doughnuts that morning to meet Mr. Taylor, so she rose early and re-read everything she thought she’d discovered after Patricia had sent the email from New York. Remembering her first call with Patricia, she kept repeating to herself, “Follow the money.”
She triple-checked her work and decided the lead was solid. In fact, the law firm in D.C. hadn’t registered under the Foreign Agents Registration Act. That was more than a technicality. That was fraud.
She suited up in a long flowered dress patterned in orange poppies, a dark blue denim jacket, and ankle boots she’d recently bought at Vintage Vibes off Main Street. Joe Taylor was walking into the diner when she arrived, and he held the door for her.
“You’re as pretty as a picture this morning, Mary,” he said. She wore the compliment well and flashed him a smile.
They took a booth and ordered coffee, water, and doughnuts. Mary jumped right in.
She pulled a manila folder out of her suede tote and laid out several pages for Mr. Taylor. She’d highlighted the names of the law firms and noted the discrepancies.
“As far as I can see, based on the documents you’ve shown me, this D.C.-based firm pops up only in this filing. But if you look over here”—she pointed to another page—“they represent several Chinese companies. And one of those companies has listed Cedar Falls as one of its main targets for land acquisition.”
“And you think the dots are connected?” he asked.
“I think it would be a heck of a coincidence if they weren’t. And if they are, you have a good shot of backing them off of your property.” She sat back, satisfied that she’d made a good case.
“By gosh, Mary, this might be it. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”
“Well, let’s not count any chickens before they hatch.”
“Wow, Jake’s been teaching you some farming lingo,” Joe teased.
“Our cultures have collided. Why don’t you take this back to your lawyers, and we’ll see how it goes?”
“I’ve got a hopeful feeling about this, Mary. More than I’ve had in a long time.”
“Me too,” she said.
They stuck around for one more cup of coffee before they headed back to the apple festival. It was going to be a big day.
MEANWHILE, OVER ATthe festival, politics entered the chat. The town was practically buzzing in anticipation of the Democratic campaign rally. By midafternoon, the air was thick with the scent of bright red candy apples, fresh and squeaky cheese curds, and the earthy richness of roasted corn. Folks washed it all down with mulled cider, local craft beers, and apple-infused water for those determined to stay hydrated. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood—the sugar highs from the apple treats were hitting at just the right time.
Dot bounced lightly on her toes, unable to stand still. Lucy Lopez was due to arrive any minute, and Dot assessed the crowd at the fairgrounds arena with Rose and Fletcher. For the Win had done all they could to help the Lopez advance team set up the visit. The stage was decorated with hay bales, giant pumpkins, and huge baskets overflowing with apples. It had a midwestern, homey vibe, which was the perfect setting for their candidate. They’d expected her vice-presidential pick to join her—but at the last minute, the Lopez-Stone campaign decided to split the ticket up and had sent Stone to Nevada to rally with the gaming union.
“At least it’s not for another event in Texas. Nevada is at least another purple state,” Dot said upon learning the news. “I’d say it’s worth a gamble.”
“Clever girl,” Rose said as she appreciated the corny joke. “Now get moving.” They’d worked hard to make sure the turnout was impressive. They needed the visuals for the press and for their own social media push.
“Not bad,” Fletcher said, taking a video of the crowd. “Room is full. How does it compare to previous rallies, Rose?”
“I’d say this is a great turnout. The venue can hold about three thousand people, and we’ve got standing room only. And there’s still a line outside.”
“I’ll go make sure we’ve got all of them signed up in the voting list,” he said, working his way out to where the volunteers were set with iPads to capture everyone’s contact info. They’d use that to confirm that their contacts had voted. Then they’d send all that to the campaign and the DNC so that they could get a rough count of how things were likely to go, even before the polls closed on Election Day.
“Hey, Rose—look over there. I think that’s that young woman I met when we were last here. She had a baby with her that day,” Dot said.