Page 51 of The Women of Wild Hill

Brigid looked up at Liam and rolled her eyes. “Phoebe’s decided to be boring,” she told him.

“Impossible,” Liam replied. “Your sister could sit in a corner reading the Financial Times and she’d still be the second most fascinating person here. We’ll send the Meat Man your regards.”

“Don’t,” Phoebe warned her sister.

“It was just a joke,” Brigid told Phoebe. “He wouldn’t know who you are.”

PHOEBE WATCHED, ARMS CROSSED AND mouth set in a scowl, as her sister and Liam Geddes wove through the crowd looking like Morticia Addams and Don Draper.

Somehow the pairing worked perfectly. Even Phoebe had to admit it.

Brigid’s weirdness made him more interesting.

Liam’s perfectly cut suit and five-hundred-dollar haircut made her appear a little less terrifying.

It was a shame the relationship had been doomed from the start.

The Old One really did seem to have it in for Brigid.

Phoebe grabbed a glass of champagne off a server’s tray and hurried away from the other guests.

As she crossed the estate, the grass beneath her feet was the ideal shade of green, every blade lopped off at exactly one inch.

There wasn’t a weed or a dandelion in sight.

A hedgerow appeared so perfectly rectangular that Phoebe reached out a hand to see if it might be plastic.

Soon she found herself in a garden with rosebushes on either side.

These weren’t like the wild roses that scaled the walls of the Wild Hill mansion.

They were blooms of extraordinary size and beauty, in colors that spanned the entire spectrum.

When she turned a corner and spotted a man bending over to examine a flower on one of the bushes, Phoebe stopped in her tracks. She’d come to the garden to be alone, but it was too late to sneak away. He’d already noticed her.

“Ever seen one of these before?” he inquired with a light drawl. He waved her over to where he stood. “I’m pretty sure it’s a new cultivar. What do you think?”

Phoebe approached for a closer look. The flower was perfect in every way. Each heart-shaped petal featured all the pinks, oranges, and yellows of a sunset.

“It’s pretty.” It was, though, pretty in a way that struck her as overkill. “But I prefer the ancient varieties. The ones that existed before we started tinkering with nature.”

“You know, I think I might agree with you.” When he stood up, he was about Phoebe’s height. He’d left his suit jacket back at the house, and the sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up to his elbows. “Nothing genetically engineered could outshine the blooms in the Garden of Eden.”

“And yet they keep making roses bigger and brighter. These new varieties don’t even smell anymore.”

The man chuckled. “I agree it’s a shame, but it’s what the consumer is hankering for,” he said.

“Same thing in my business. You try to sell people stuff they don’t want, you’ll end up bankrupt and they’ll just go buy it someplace else.

Americans want big, colorful blooms and thick, juicy steaks that don’t cost a fortune.

All the lectures in the world aren’t going to stop them. ”

Steaks. “You’re the Meat Man.”

He held out a hand and she shook it. “I prefer Dan.” The movies had trained her to expect a cigar-chomping final-boss type. There was nothing sinister about this man’s appearance. If anything, he reminded her a great deal of Sibyl’s fifth-grade math teacher.

“Phoebe,” she said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Phoebe. I assume you were an acquaintance of the late Senator Jacobs?”

She knew she should end the conversation and move on, but Wallace seemed so affable, so charming. It was hard not to like him.

“He was a friend of a friend,” Phoebe told him. “You?”

The man moved on to the next rosebush, this one with red and white blooms. He bent down, smelled one, and came up shaking his head in disappointment.

“Josh and I broke bread on a few occasions, but at the end of the day, I was just another contributor to his campaign. He was very popular with my friends in the business community. Figured it might be a good idea to stop by and find out if anyone’s been picked to take his place. ”

“Picked?” Phoebe asked. “I assumed there were would be an election.”

“Yes, but someone has to choose who will run. Lot of folks here aren’t willing to leave a seat that important to chance,” Wallace told her.

“We get someone in office who thinks he’s the next coming of Ralph Nader, and it could mean billions for a company like mine.

I got cattle to feed, salaries to pay, and stockholders who expect their dividends. I can’t afford to play games.”

This was an opportunity, Phoebe thought. Here was a man who might listen to reason.

“Why not lead the way?” she asked. “After everything that’s happened, surely the business community knows that today’s environmental practices aren’t sustainable.

A corporation like yours could show others that it’s possible to thrive without leaving a barren planet for our children and grandchildren. ”

Wallace chuckled. “I’m not sure why everyone expects business leaders to take charge of these things.

I think I’ll do much more good for this country if I stay in my lane and leave education to the teachers and science to the scientists.

Every generation faces its own challenges.

The next group to take charge will just have to rise to this challenge the way ours faced down the threat of nuclear annihilation. ”

“That’s a pretty heavy burden to leave on our children, don’t you think?”

He gave her a funny look—amused but straddling the border of wary. “Did Josh Jacobs know his friends were hanging out with the green crowd?”

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate,” Phoebe assured him while silently chiding herself for moving too fast.

“You look like a very intelligent person, Phoebe, so I assume you know the truth. My children will be fine. I’ve spent my whole life making sure of that. It’s why I’m here now. And if you’re here, too, I got to assume you’re in the same boat.”

Phoebe wasn’t quite sure she understood what he was saying. “Our children won’t suffer because they’re rich?”

She could see in his eyes that something about the question had annoyed him. Somehow, she’d made a gaffe that had outed her as an impostor. “My children are rich because the Lord in his wisdom has chosen to favor us. They’ll be fine because they’re saved.”

“Right.” Phoebe couldn’t quite hide her surprise. “Of course. If the world ends, they’ll be raptured.”

He chuckled. “I’m not one of those types who’s cheering on the end of days,” he told her. “I believe that God, in his wisdom, is testing us. He wants to see where we choose to place our faith—in the science of men or in him. I choose God.”

Wallace bent over to smell a yellow rose. He drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sighed with pleasure. “Ah, now that’s magical.” He turned his head toward her and opened his eyes. “Give this one a whiff and tell me this wasn’t sent straight from heaven.”

The fragrance was lovely, but Phoebe found it hard to focus. “Divine,” she pronounced. Then she waited. Longer than she wanted to but likely not long enough. “So you’re saying we don’t need to do anything about the climate?”

Wallace offered a tight smile. He’d clearly hoped the conversation had reached its end.

“You’ve got to remember, God gave man dominion over the earth.

Later, he sent Jesus to weed out the unfaithful.

Then he chose to bless the best Christians with the power and material wealth we need to lead the other men.

What everyone else should do is follow.”

“Wealth is a sign of God’s favor.” Phoebe phrased it as neither a question nor a statement, but something in between.

“Certainly, and it’s a huge responsibility,” Wallace told her. “Before I make any decision, I ask the Lord what he wants me to do.”

“Does he ever ask you to make a sacrifice for the greater good?” Phoebe asked him. “Maybe put some of your profits into making the world a better place?”

“He asks me to worship him and live by his laws. As long as I do that, I can have faith that whatever I do is for the greater good. Every decision I make has his stamp of approval.”

“So your company’s new operations in the rainforest—all the clear-cutting that upset those protesters—God gave you his stamp of approval for that?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Wallace told her. “He and I had a long chat about it, and he told me to have faith in his goodness. You know it’s sad, Phoebe. So many people look to science for salvation when all they have to do is trust in the Lord.”

“A lot of those people are going to die if humankind doesn’t take action to keep the world habitable.”

He turned to her with the radiant smile of the blessed.

“Has it ever occurred to you that the nations that will suffer the least are Christian nations? It can’t be an accident.

God doesn’t make accidents. Europe, North America, parts of Australia.

They are the ark on which the righteous will sail into a glorious future. ”

“There are plenty of Christians who will be killed by climate change. You’re only concerned about the countries with large white populations?”

“Now, I did not say that,” he added emphatically. “God decides who will suffer, not me. But I’m happy to do my part to usher in the new age.”

“And your children? Will they continue your work when you’re gone?”

“The company’s gone public. I love my children, but there’s not a one of them the board would approve as CEO. I got to get it all done before I bid the mortal world a fond farewell.”

THEY’D WALKED TO THE EDGE of the gathering, in full view of the other black-clad guests. For the first time, she knew how Brigid felt before she killed. Here was a man whose death was necessary.

“Well, would you look at that?” said Wallace.

Phoebe followed his gaze to the three black birds sailing wing to wing across the lawn toward them.

“My mother always said that if you saw three ravens in a row, they were pulling the Grim Reaper’s chariot.

She was a bit of a heathen, my mother. There’s no telling how I might have turned out if she hadn’t died in a fire when I was young. ”

“A fire, you say?” Phoebe replied.

The three birds landed a few feet in front of them.

The biggest, in the middle, croaked out an order.

Phoebe looked up. High above, on the dead limb of an old oak, two other ravens gazed down at her.

Four more fluttered to the rotten limb as she watched.

The healthy branches above were black with birds waiting to join the ones below.

The rotten limb wouldn’t be able to hold many more.

They’d come for a single reason, but they were waiting for Phoebe to make the call. An hour earlier, it might have seemed like an impossible decision. Now she didn’t hesitate.

“Pardon me,” she told the Meat Man. “It was a pleasure chatting with you, but I think I see my sister waving me over.”

Phoebe headed off across the lawn. Seconds later, when the deafening crack rang out, everyone at the gathering turned in the direction she’d come from. Even when people began to scream and the crowd rushed forward, Phoebe never looked back.