Life, Love and the Pursuit of Happiness

by Sandra Hill

  “Another thing,” Doreen said, with a big smile. Her hair was a mass of teased brownish redness today, no doubt due to a visit to her daughter’s hair salon, where the special today was half-priced beehives, all in preparation, no doubt, for tomorrow’s oh-my-God-pressarama. “I know how busy you all must be, so, I ordered pirate costumes for the entire crew. Compliments of Bell Cove.”

  There was a stunned silence, and then someone said, “Merrill better get his ass back here pronto or there’s going to be a mutiny.”

  Delilah planned to be the first person off the boat.

  Damage control for the clueless man . . .

  It was late morning before Merrill was able to leave the hospital, where his mother was finally moved out of intensive care and into a regular hospital room, and it was early afternoon before he got back to Bell Cove. Traffic was heavy, and he saw the oddest thing on the ferry. An old guy hobbling into a vintage Cadillac the size of a boat with a New Jersey plate reading “GOON.” Surely, he’d misread or it was a coincidence, but just then vehicles began to move off the ferry and he hopped on his bike, not wanting to lose his place.

  He went first to find Delilah. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate worth a damn until he got some questions answered, but when he got to her apartment, there was no one there. The door was open, a radio playing, but not a soul around. Then he walked over to the motel units where K-4 and Gus had apparently spent the night with their dates—the Victoria’s Secret models. The two women were still there, along with Delilah’s grandmother and her daughter.

  The first model, wearing a full-body leotard, was over by the patio sliding doors being taught how to do a high kick by Grandma, also in a full-body leotard.

  Can my eyes please unsee that?

  The second model, wearing nothing but her skimpy underwear, was reclining on one of the beds with Maggie watching Annie on a portable DVD player sitting on her lap. “Oh, this is the saddest part,” the model sobbed, dabbing at her eyes.

  Maggie was patting her arm, saying, “That’s okay. It turns out okay in the end.”

  “I wish I had a Daddy Warbucks,” the model lamented.

  “Me, too,” Maggie said.

  Rolling his eyes, Merrill marched up to Grandma. “Any idea where I might find Delilah?”

  “She went to the salvage office with your buddies,” Grandma said, and touched her toes, thus turning her butt in his direction.

  With burning eyeballs, Merrill left the scene but not before he noticed a wastebasket overflowing with empty wine bottles and several foil condom wrappers. He was pretty sure Delilah would not approve.

  When he got to Bell Forge, he saw that Sweet Bells was missing. Hopefully, Charlie had taken it back to the site. With all the publicity they were getting, he should probably get more patrol boats out there, just to be safe.

  To his shock, he soon discovered that he already had a security patrol of his own. Elmer Judd and the twin psychiatrists, Mike and Ike Dorset, were walking around the outside of the building carrying rifles.

  “Shot anyone yet?” he joked.

  “Just a few reporters,” Elmer said, and then laughed at Merrill’s gasp. “Just kidding.”

  The scene was ludicrous, really. Elmer was bald and about five-five, very much resembling that comic book character. On his suspenders was a star-shaped badge, which might be misinterpreted as something denoting the authority of the law but was, in fact, a veterinarian’s club honorary award of some kind. Mike and Ike, in camouflage, were much cooler with macho rifle holsters over their shoulders and handcuffs hooked onto their belts. The Mutt and Jeffs of Merrill’s policing efforts? Was that the best Harry could do in his absence?

  Should he fire them on the spot, or play Andy Griffith and be more accepting of his very own versions of Barney Fife?

  Gabe pulled up then, and his eyes about bugged out. But then, he grabbed Merrill by the arm before he could go inside. “You have to do something. They’re turning my house into a pirates’ den.”

  Merrill started to ask him what he meant by that, but then decided he really didn’t want to know. “Your problem, my friend. I have enough of my own to handle, apparently.”

  When he went inside, Harry was motioning frantically for him to come into the office. With a cordless phone to his ear, Harry mouthed that he would get to him in a moment. Instead of waiting, Merrill went into the warehouse storage room to find Delilah.

  She looked up from the table where she was helping polish gold coins. When she saw him, she smiled. It was a warm, completely open smile. One a guy could delude himself into thinking was a loving smile of welcome.

  He just couldn’t return her smile. Not yet.

  Her smile faltered, and she tilted her head in question.

  Everyone had something to say to him, or questions to ask, all of them speaking at once.

  “Where the hell have you been? My voice mail has shut down from an overload.”

  “Any estimate on when we’ll see some cash?”

  “I’ve got a sketch of the Falcon being made into a banner. Should I pay for it in color?”

  “Did you know the mayor wants us to wear pirate costumes at the press conference?”

  “How’s your mother?”

  “The Southern Society of Historical Reenactors wants to know if they can participate in our Celebration of Gold during the Labor Day Lollypalooza? I didn’t know we were having a Celebration of Gold.”

  Merrill ignored them all, for now. Reaching out a hand to Delilah, he said, “Come outside with me for a minute. We need to talk.”

  The room went silent.

  She hesitated, then put her hand in his. “Merrill, what’s wrong? Is it your mother? I’ve been so worried.”

  “No, my mother’s all right now. They moved her out of the ICU this morning.”

  “Why didn’t you call when—”

  Merrill had no opportunity to answer just then. Thankfully. Harry had wheeled himself out of the office and into the wide corridor where Merrill was leading Delilah toward the outside door. When Adam and Merrill had formed a partnership, they’d renovated the Bell Forge building with an extra-wide hallway to separate the forge operation from the salvage office and warehouse. Even through the thick walls, Merrill could hear the forges running and workers talking.

  Harry looked at their joined hands and smiled. “Ah, I’m glad to see you took my advice, Merrill. There’s always two sides to every story.”

  “What story?” Delilah asked.

  “You know, honey, about your felony.” Harry looked with pity at Delilah.

  Pity was the last thing Delilah would want. Merrill knew that much about her.

  “How did you know about that, Harry?” she asked stiffly.

  “Uh-oh,” Harry said. “Have I spoken out of turn?”

  Delilah wasn’t bending a bit. In fact, she yanked her hand out of Merrill’s grip and folded her arms over her chest, waiting, stoically, for Harry’s response.

  “Oh, Lilah, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world,” Harry said, “but I felt obligated—”

  “It’s not Harry’s fault,” Merrill interrupted. “Let’s go outside and talk there.” He tried to take her hand again, but she was having none of that. In fact she edged away from him, as if repulsed.

  “No, let Harry speak.”

  Harry glanced uncomfortably at Merrill until he nodded.

  “Your parole officer came here,” Harry disclosed. “A Ms. Gardner.”

  “When?”

  “Last week.”

  “And?”

  “She wanted to know if you had reported your felony background to us . . . your employer.”

  A flicker of something like fear appeared in her eyes before she turned to Merrill. “And when did Harry tell you about this? No, let me guess. Yesterday, before you shot out of town. That’s why you haven’t called. You judged and found me guilty, without even giving me a chance to explain.”

  Like you haven’t had weeks to explain before this!
“Explain now. Come outside and let’s talk.”

  “Eff you!” she said.

  He winced. “Hey, don’t put me on the defensive. You’re the one who kept secrets. You’re the one who served hard time for accessory to robbery and for-fuck’s-sake murder.”

  Suddenly, he realized that there was an odd silence, followed by a whispered gasp of “Murder?”

  That latter came from Mayor Doreen, who must have just come in from outside. But also witnessing this news were Elmer, Mike, and Ike, behind the mayor, as well as K-4, Gus, Bonita, and Adam, from the other end of the corridor.

  Delilah looked with horror at all the people, then at Merrill, her expression showing how wounded she was. With a sob, she bolted for the door and ran outside, pushing past the mayor and the three loony guards.

  He ran after her, catching up with her where she stood, puzzled for a moment. She must have realized that she’d come with K-4 and Gus and left Merrill’s truck back at the motel. In other words, no transport. But then she headed for her motorcycle.

  “Wait, Delilah. I didn’t mean for anyone else to know.”

  She ignored him and swung a leg over the seat.

  “I was upset. I needed some space to think before confronting you about it.” Maybe confront isn’t the right word. Too late now. “Give me a break, sweetheart. I was in shock.” I still am.

  She searched around for the keys, which were in his pocket. She wouldn’t look at him, and he knew why. Well, one reason why. Tears were brimming in her eyes, and she wouldn’t want him to see.

  He took the keys out and handed them to her. Still not looking at him, she fumbled, trying to fit the key in the ignition.

  “Delilah, I know there must be an explanation. I want to know what happened to you. You wouldn’t commit murder or be willingly involved in a murder.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Because I love you. Love knows. But he didn’t say that. Instead, he repeated, “We’re both hurt here, Delilah. We can work it out.”

  The tears were streaming down her face when she finally looked directly at him. “One day too late. Leave . . . me . . . alone!”

  She roared off.

  Merrill would have liked to follow after Delilah immediately, but he was waylaid by three news trucks pulling into the parking lot in tandem, as if they were in a race.

  Holy shit! It was a shipwreck discovery, not an alien landing or some monumental hurricane disaster.

  Just then, the NBX-TV satellite van skidded onto the gravel lot, too, and Merrill thought about dragging Sam and Annie out and beating the crap out of them. Those two nitwits were the ones responsible for this mayhem.

  But he took a deep breath and stood his ground. He noticed that his rifle squad had come out to stand behind him.

  “Okay, folks,” he addressed the newspeople and cameras. “Unless you have business with Bell Forge, this is, from now on, considered private property. No Trespassing signs are about to be posted, and you will be arrested. Or . . .” He glanced back at the three old codgers behind him. “My security detail will be given orders to shoot, and I understand they are crack shots.”

  The three guys were surprised at his words, but they straightened with pride and made sure everyone saw their rifles.

  “You can’t do this,” Annie Fox yelled. “It’s illegal.”

  “Do I look like I care, Ms. Fox?”

  “We just want a story,” a woman with a Newsweek logo on her shirt said.

  “I understand that, and we’ll give you all the details you want at the press conference tomorrow at Chimes, the home owned by one of my partners, Gabriel Conti, who also happens to be the owner of Bell Forge. If you want a story in the meantime, how about discovering the interesting history of this town, which was by founded by the Conti family, who’ve made some of the most famous bells in the world?”

  That piqued their interest, or at least diverted their attention. Of course, Gabe would not be a happy camper.

  Something occurred to Merrill then. Sure as gossip moved at the speed of sound, word would already be spreading of Delilah’s notorious past. If the news media got wind that one of his crew members was a felon, they would be running in that direction. Even though it had nothing to do with their discovery, the press was always looking for a “color” angle. He didn’t care what they said about him, but he would like to protect Delilah from that kind of crap if he could.

  If he had a choice, he would have gone after Delilah right away, but there were things he needed to do with Harry first. And then another alarming thought occurred to Merrill as he recalled the flicker of fear in her eyes when she found out that her parole officer had been here. Would the fact that Delilah hadn’t reported her felony to her employer jeopardize her parole? Could she be sent back to prison?

  Oh, my God!

  This is a freakin’ nightmare.

  So, the first thing he did when he got back to his office was pull a business card out of his wallet. He punched the number into his cell phone, and then said, when a woman answered, “Ms. Gardner?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Merrill Good, owner of the Bell Cove Treasure and Salvaging Company. I understand you spoke with my business manager, Harry Carder, last week. He might have mistakenly given the impression that Ms. Delilah Jones had not informed us of her felony conviction. That is not true. Ms. Jones gave me all the details before she was hired.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Why would I say so if I were not?”

  “Why now?”

  “I’ve been out of town for the past ten days and had no info on your visit until yesterday.”

  “Are you involved with Ms. Jones?”

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business, Ms. Gardner. All you need to know is that she is my employee, and a very good one at that.”

  There was silence at the other end.

  “Does this mean Ms. Jones is no longer in trouble?”

  “That’s not the only trouble she has,” Ms. Gardner murmured.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing? I’ll make note of your call into my records, Mr. Good. It’s commendable that you would give a hardened criminal a second chance.”

  Was that sarcasm he detected?

  “Thank you for your time, Ms. Gardner,” he said with an iciness that was the best he could garner in terms of politeness.

  “Good for you,” Harry said. “Do you think she’ll suffer for my slip?”

  “I don’t know.” At the very least, the fallout would mean the entire town knew of her background. “But don’t blame yourself. I’m on it now.” Merrill was not without powerful friends from long years working for Uncle Sam and higher-ups in government. He wasn’t above calling in some markers, if need be.

  He spent an hour with Harry, making a list of business matters and calls that needed to be answered ASAP, in order of priority. At the end of that time, he told Harry, “I need to go out for a while. You go home. I’ll come back later this afternoon to take care of the rest.”

  Harry nodded. “You’re going to make things up with Delilah?”

  “I hope to.” He grinned then. “Guess you’re going to have to drop me off. Delilah took her bike.”

  Harry grinned back at him. Even with a wheelchair, the old man was able to drive. Merrill helped him, though, folding up the wheelchair and putting it in the back of the SUV and then watching as he used a walker to get to the driver’s seat.

  When they got close to the diner, Merrill said, “Uh-oh!” and asked Harry to slow down.

  “What’s up?”

  “See that Caddy over there on the street in front of the diner?”

  “The one with the Jersey plate that says ‘GOON’?”

  “Yep. I think it might be some loan shark jerk up to no good with the Glam Gram.”

  “Sal? Someone followed her here from New Jersey?” Harry was clearly more than interested.

  “Might be. As I recall, there was a menti
on of breaking legs with his cane.”

  “Whaat? We can’t let that happen. Let’s go back to the forge and get those rifles.”

  “No. No weapons necessary. But I might need your help.”

  Harry eased his van onto the parking lot. Everything seemed to be quiet. Merrill’s pickup truck, Delilah’s motorcycle, and the Glam Gram’s tank were there, as well as K-4’s and Adam’s vehicles parked in front of their motel units. But no one was about.

  But wait. Merrill thought he heard a noise coming from behind the diner. It was Maggie and she was crying, “Don’t you hurt my Gramma, you poopyhead.”

  “Stay here and call Sheriff Henderson. Tell him we have a potential criminal event taking place here.”

  “Gotcha.” Harry was already speaking in his phone before Merrill opened his car door and grabbed one of Harry’s crutches from the backseat, saying, “Hey, Bill. Elvis diner. ASAP. Crime in progress.” The sheriff must have said something, and Harry replied, “Yeah, you better bring an ambulance, just in case.”

  Merrill walked softly up behind Maggie and lifted her up from behind, putting a hand over her mouth. Into her ear, he whispered, “As soon as I set you down, run to your Mommy. Do you understand?” She looked at him over her shoulder and nodded.

  The “goon” was snarling at Grandma. “You stupid bitch. I tol’ you Sharkie wouldn’t let you get away without payin’ off your tab. Now you owe another five thousand, and I got orders to hurt you real bad if you don’t cooperate.”

  The second Maggie hit the ground and ran back toward the motel apartment, shrieking, “Mommy, Mommy!” Merrill swung the crutch against the back of the assailant, who had a terrified Grandma pinned up against the diner, with a four-pronged cane pressed against her windpipe.

  The guy dropped to his knees, the cane falling to the ground. “Ow, ow, ow! Oh, fuck! Oh, damn!” Merrill immediately had him facedown, with his foot pressing against the guy’s back. “I got bad knees, asshole. Now, they mus’ be broken. Call a doctor. Call an ambulance. Ow, ow, ow!”

  “Bad knees are the least of your problems, buddy.”

  Meanwhile, Harry had somehow managed to hobble over to the diner and was holding a sobbing Grandma in his arms. Sirens were wailing in the distance. K-4 and Adam, both half-dressed, came running out of their motel units, followed by two women, who wore even less clothing. And then there was a horrified Delilah coming out of the back door of her apartment and staring at the scene unfolding before her.