As soon as the attendees were seated, Marci spoke. “Good evening, everyone—and thank you for coming tonight to discuss an issue that’s important to all of us. But first, let’s give Reverend Baker a round of applause for offering the use of this fellowship hall. We would have strained the fire code if we’d met in the city hall conference room.”

She led the ovation as the minister stood and waved at the assembly.

Once the group quieted again, Marci dived into the issue at hand, as Charley had predicted. “Most of us count on visitors for a hefty chunk of our income. As we all know, the area wildfires have been taking a toll on tourism. That’s hurt many of us throughout the spring, and if the situation continues into our busy summer season, we’ll all be feeling the pinch.”

A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd, and Marci waited for it to subside before continuing. “The chamber board has discussed this at length, and we’d like to be proactive about the situation—but to be honest, we haven’t come up with any viable ideas about how to address it. That’s why we’re here tonight. We want your input. The floor is open.”

As Marci waited for someone to speak, Christi leaned toward Charley. “How many wildfires have you had?”

“Several over the past eight months. If the wind’s blowing our direction and the fire is large, we catch an occasional whiff of smoke. That’s enough to spook visitors.”

“Is there any danger to the town?”

“No. The closest fire was thirty or forty miles away. But with all the beautiful towns on the Oregon coast, there are other options for visitors who have concerns.” He indicated a youngish woman with long, wavy light brown hair who’d risen. “That’s Jeannette Mason. Married to Logan West, the doctor in charge of our local urgent care center. She owns Bayview Lavender Farm and Tearoom.”

Christi scribbled down the woman’s name.

“I want to reiterate what Marci said.” Jeannette motioned toward the Herald editor. “I’m very worried about the summer season. I’m used to being booked solid at the tearoom, but my business has been down about 25 percent since the first of the year. I agree we should try to come up with a plan to generate tourism, but I’ll have to leave that to more creative minds.”

Another woman rose, also midthirtyish.

Charley leaned over again. “Katherine Parker. You may have heard of her from her Hollywood acting days. She’s opening a gourmet chocolate shop in town.”

Christi added the woman’s name to her list. Lucky for her, the taco chef had taken her under his wing tonight. He was a treasure trove of information.