Ouch, I thought. Charlie had obviously read Mom’s comments in the newspaper.

“Have it your way, then. Dr. Mary Harriet Rivenbark, DVM. For the record, I represent the mob behind me. We are here to protest the illegal removal of bodies from graves in Tin City.”

The chair covered the microphone with a meaty paw. He and the other six commissioners whispered for almost a minute.

“After conferring with my colleagues,” the chair said, “we think you should take this up with the sheriff. It’s out of our purview.”

The crowd booed. They raised their placards and chanted. The commissioners looked decidedly more nervous, but I noticed Landis never stopped smiling.

“That’s not true,” Mom said. “The sheriff referred the case to you, since you approved the development plan for Autumn Hills development without asking the Allegheny County Historical Society to research the property. If you were anything other than a rubber stamp for developers, you would’ve known there’s a cemetery on the property.”

“I expected better from a doctor,” Charlie said. “Where do you get off calling us a rubber stamp?”

“Like my granny always said,” Mom said, “if you lie with dogs, you’re going to get fleas.”

The crowd broke into applause. Half of them stood and waved their placards like a football crowd cheering a touchdown.

“Order! Order!” Charlie pounded the gavel. “Get hold of yourselves before I have a deputy throw you all out. And Mary Harriet—“

“Dr. Rivenbark to you.”

“—I think you’ve wasted enough time tonight.”

Mom covered the mic and asked her attorney a question.

“May I have a word, please?” Landis unhooked the microphone from the stand so that he could walk closer to the crowd. “This is all a misunderstanding, and I think I can clear it up to everybody’s satisfaction. I can see why you good people are upset. What Dr. Rivenbark describes is indeed a disturbing scenario. Let me assure that the truth is a different matter. The development of the so-called Tin City property is one hundred percent legal. We have complied with every federal regulation, every state law, every local statute. You see, state law requires that when human remains are moved, the next of kin must be located. If the next of kin cannot be relocated, then the County Commission must approve of a move. However, that is unnecessary, because we purchased the property from the next of kin. Before we acquired it, we agreed to the interment of a small, family cemetery with the owner, Mr. Troy Blevins, whom I believe is a local music teacher. Mr. Blevins is in attendance tonight, along with his sister, Athena.”

The crowd murmured, and Blevins stood up. His hands shook. Mr. Blevins had conducted the band through dozens of concerts, marching shows, and festivals, but this was the first time I had ever seen him nervous.

“It’s, um, true what, um, Mr. Landis told you,” Blevins said. The graveyard is, um, our family cemetery. Our grandparents are buried there, along with our aunts and uncles. Athena and I, we’re the last of the Blevins family and so, well, y’all know how it is these days with the government taxing everything.”

The sister stood up. I got my first clear look at her face.

It was Dr. K.

“They’re brother and sister?” I whispered to Cedar.

“Looks like it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dr. K began, “what my brother is trying to say is, as embarrassing as this is, we had no choice but to sell the property. The inheritance taxes on our parents’ home were more than we could afford on our teachers’ salaries. We were facing a tax auction until Mr. Landis heard about our problem. He gave us a fair price. More than a fair price, to be honest.”

“What’s that got to do with moving your kin?” one of the protesters called out. “You two are as bad as Landis.”

“The cemetery would have been moved no matter what!” Mr. Blevins snapped. “Except it would’ve been the government doing it! Our kin would’ve been buried in unmarked paupers’ graves!”

That doesn’t sound right, I thought. There were at least a hundred graves on the property, so it had to be more than the small family cemetery. North Carolina law was funky sometimes, but I didn’t think the government could move graves without the family’s permission.

The crowd deflated.

A collective shrug swept over the room, as if they had all simultaneously murmured, huh? Some wondered aloud how Mr. Blevins could allow his own family to be hauled out of the ground just so he could make a buck, but Landis had definitely turned the tide.

At the table, Mom looked flummoxed. She conversed openly with her attorney, but the mic wasn’t picking up their voices.

The chair had switched it off.

“I reckon that settles it,” Charlie said. “Public comment is now closed. You folks are welcome to stay, but if you do, you’ve got to get quiet. Let’s move on to the first agenda item.”

“Next time your dog gets mange, Charlie!” Mom yelled. “Don’t bring him to me!”

The rest of the crowd quietly left their seats. They filed out of the room and then out of the building.

“That’s so bogus,” Cedar said when we got outside. “There were a zillion graves. Mr. Blevins must have a huge family.”

“I really hate that pompous ass Landis,” I said. “He acts like he owns the whole freaking county.”

“He sort of does.”

“Not the people in it,” I said. “So, that’s it for the evening. Want to go someplace private and make out?”

“Very funny.” Cedar punched my arm, then steered us to the parking lot. “And very tempting, but YamFest starts tomorrow, and I have to make sure my project is perfect for the Olympiad.”

“I could help you with it.”

“Distract me from it, you mean.” She draped her arms around my neck and stood on tiptoes. “Remember to meet me on the courthouse green tomorrow. Don’t get occupied with your fires and lose track of time.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad, either, Mr. Childress.”

Then, before I could stop myself, those three little words popped out of my mouth. “I love you.”

For a long second, then five, then ten, Cedar said nothing. Finally, she slipped out of the hug and gave me a peck on the cheek.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Boone.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

I waved as she and drove away.

Holy shit.

I told her I loved her.

“Crap! I can’t believe I said that!”

And I couldn’t believe she had left me hanging.

No I love you, too.

No I know.

No That’s nice.

Just a see you tomorrow.

Oh man.

More car doors slammed, and more engines started. I stepped into the shadows of the trees.I looked up into the night sky. The moon that had cast shadows the past two days was nowhere to be seen, and the stars that had burned so brightly over the lake seemed dim and very far away.

TUESDAY

1

After Blevins’ revelation at the commission meeting, Mom had left the courthouse a defeated woman. To make matters worse, somebody let it slip that Abner was in the county holding pen, and she rushed over there to bond him out. She was livid that Abner told me and not her. She was even more enraged at me for leaving him in a cell.

Since it was almost midnight when we got back to the house, she insisted that Abner spend the night in my room and banished me to the barn.

“Go sleep with the horses!” she yelled. “You can see what it’s like to sleep in inhumane conditions!”