04, Trish returned for the third time.
This time she arrived alone.
No lawyer.
No volunteers.
She stood beside the field until I climbed down.
“You’ve made your point.”
“I’m harvesting.”
“You’ve made your point.”
“The elevator closes at midnight.”
She stared at me.
“Stop for twenty-four hours.”
“No.”
“We can compensate you.”
“For what?”
“The crop.”
“You already owe me for the crop you destroyed.”
“We’ll pay.”
“And trespass damage.”
“Fine.”
“And lost yield.”
“Fine.”
“And restoration.”
“Fine.”
“And attorney fees.”
Her jaw flexed.
“Jack.”
“You’re negotiating very quickly for somebody who says she has legal access.”
She looked toward the sheriff’s cruiser.
Ben was still there.
So was Rachel.
Trish lowered her voice.
“If the event fails tomorrow, Cedar Ridge could face serious financial damage.”
“Opening is Saturday.”
“VIP night is Friday.”
Another detail she hadn’t mentioned.
“How many VIP tickets?”
She looked away.
“How many?”
“Two hundred.”
“
