Free Driftwood Point by Mariah Stewart

away, but something told him that wasn’t going to happen. The best he could do was to help protect the interests of the islanders while still giving solid advice to his client, the guy with the fat wallet and dreams of building luxury homes on this historic bit of ground.
    â€œI’ll get back to you.” Brian started to his car, then turned back. “I heard you were a straight shooter. I appreciate that.”
    â€œNo point in encouraging you to waste your money.”
    â€œRight. Thanks.” Brian got into his car, started the engine, and drove off, his left hand waving out the window.
    Alec let out a long breath, one he felt he’d been holding since he got into his car back at the office. He was used to dealing with developers like Brian Deiter, but he’d never been comfortable with the situation. He’d been referred to Deiter by his college roommate, who was married to the developer’s sister, and while he appreciated the work, he had mixed feelings.
    Cannonball Island had always held a deep fascination for Alec, one that went way beyond his crush on one of the residents. There were the stories of how the island had come to be inhabited, of the men and women who’d been driven across the slow-moving branch of the New River to a place where there was no shelter and few trees—simply because they’d supported the British in 1812. That the small community had not only survived, but thrived, had been nothing short of a miracle. Tradition had said that only scrub pine and dune grass and beach plum grew onthe island back then, but that first year, the newly displaced band of exiles managed to raise crops and build shelters. Having brought with them what they could carry from their homes in St. Dennis, many had cash to spend, and more than one had relatives in other towns who were more than happy to supply the lumber they’d use to build their homes. Over time, the islanders settled in and made their own way, mostly on the water, but for many, the bitterness toward the residents of St. Dennis for what their families had been made to endure and what they’d had to leave behind never died but was passed from one generation to the next.
    Like Lis’s father, Alec recalled. It had been no secret that Jack Parker had never gotten over the fact that his family had once owned a handsome house on Hudson Street right around the corner from the storied Enright mansion, the largest home in town. Jack wasn’t the only one who’d harbored resentment against St. Dennis and its residents, many of whose ancestors had been the very ones who’d driven their families off land they’d settled. It was a black mark against the town’s history, but these days almost no one in St. Dennis gave it a thought except maybe on one of the days of the year the town celebrated its past. The injustice, however, still lived on in the minds of some of the descendants of those who’d lost so much.
    Alec would do the best he could to protect the island environmentally and culturally, while at the same time offering economic opportunities to the residents. If the development was approved, there wouldbe jobs to be filled. Alec knew of at least four guys from high school who’d left the island to find work only to discover that jobs were scarce in places other than Cannonball Island. And for those who had land to sell in the areas that were appropriate for building, there’d be fair market value offered from the buyer. Alec would see to that.
    It was inevitable that someone, someday, would build there. In the right hands, a certain amount of development could be very good for Cannonball Island. In the wrong hands, it would be a disaster. Which meant that Alec had to ensure that the reins for this project remained where he could see them—preferably in his hands. He just hadn’t figured out quite yet how to make that happen.

Chapter Four

    L is sat on the new back steps