Free See You at Sunset by V. K. Sykes Page B

frustration. “Annie, you’ve got to stop being so pigheaded,” he thundered. “Night Owl could sue both the town and the selectmen if they try to deny that permit. They’ve got no damn grounds for saying no. You’re just causing trouble for nothing.”
    “What bull. Night Owl won’t sue,” Morgan said indignantly, putting her arm around Miss Annie’s narrow shoulders. “They don’t need Seashell Bay. Hell, I doubt they’d even want to come here if the majority of people were against it. So Miss Annie’s idea makes good sense to me. Let’s find out what people really think. Or are you guys scared to find out?”
    Spinney’s head jerked back. “Are you kidding? You people are crazy if you think there aren’t a lot of people on the island who feel the same way as Cooper and me. Your problem is that you can’t stand even the idea of change. I keep telling you it’s like you’re stuck in time. Like you’re damn fossils.”
    “Stuck in time, my ass, Spinney,” Morgan said, her eyes blazing. Ryan slid into position behind his fiancé, looking like a big muscled wall of intimidation. Still, he remained silent, letting Morgan fight her own battle.
    Besides, it wasn’t as if Morgan and Spinney were actually going to start duking it out.
    “Anybody with half a brain wants to keep the good things we’ve always cherished,” Morgan retorted. “Things like the Jenkins General Store. There’s no reason why we need Night Owl. The stores we’ve got now can meet all our needs just fine.”
    Before Spinney could launch another rebuttal, Morgan cut him off. “And, hey, how about showing some loyalty, huh? Taking the side of a big corporation over Florence and Beatrice? You two should be ashamed of yourselves!”
    Miss Annie joined in, wagging her finger at her foe. “Boyd Spinney, you can call me all the names you want, but this old fossil will have no part of anything that hurts the Jenkins sisters. And like Morgan said, you shouldn’t either. Why should we line the pockets of some big mainland corporation that sticks stores every ten feet across the state of Maine? We’ve done just fine without places like that for a couple of hundred years, so we sure don’t need them now.”
    Blowing out a loud sigh, Father Michael finally rose from the table. “Now folks, I don’t think—”
    Frenette moved to hover over the much shorter priest, his black eyebrows furiously pulling into a unibrow. “You people are just full of hot air. Times change, and the general store ain’t up-to-date. Everybody knows that.” He swayed a bit, clearly drunk. “If we’re going to be honest here, the place is a stinkin’ dump.”
    The shock of those words hit Holly squarely in the chest.
    “Watch it, Frenette,” Micah said in a cold voice, giving her hand a squeeze that she suspected was a signal for her to stay out of it.
    But she couldn’t. For Frenette to launch such a vicious insult against the store was too much. She pulled her hand free, ignoring Micah’s growl.
    “Stinking dump?” she said, going up on her toes and getting right in Frenette’s grill. His beery, cigarette-stinky breath almost made her gag. “That’s the way you talk about your neighbors? About two gracious ladies who’ve devoted themselves to this town? You ungrateful jerk!”
    Frenette gave a loud snort. “Relax, okay? I’m not crapping on Florence and Beatrice, so don’t go getting your little panties in a twist, dollface. Besides, I figure somebody who only comes around once a year shouldn’t get much of say in island business anyway.”
    And there you have it, folks. The ultimate insult in Seashell Bay—to tell a native-born islander that they no longer belong .
    Something in Holly’s head seemed to pop, and every bit of fear, frustration, and rage she’d been suppressing came pouring out like a red tide.
    “How dare you!” She flattened her palms on Frenette’s chest and shoved, sending him reeling backward. The man’s mouth gaped