Trouble on Main Street

by Kirsten Fullmer

  The guard, eager to get away from the crazy woman, assured her he was fine and then made his way back into the hall. He glanced both directions looking for Sam, then headed for the elevator.

  Jessica smoothed her hands down the front of her tight skirt and took a deep breath. The others in the room cast her wary glances and she ignored them. She headed across the room to sit down by her kids. Finally, once everyone went about their business, Jessica smiled down at the little boys. Someone would be getting new Legos.

  Sam reached the lavish office of the mayor. “We have a serious situation here,” she said to Rachel. “No time to waste. I have to see that everyone is safe.”

  Rachel jumped up and tried to block the door. “The mayor won’t want to be interrupted—"

  But Sam shouldered past her. “We’ll let the mayor decide.” With that, she threw open the door, marched across the room and plopped the kennel on the mayor’s desk. “Your security guards and your secretary refused to listen to reason. We have a rabid racoon loose in this end of the courthouse and it’s a danger to everyone. I tried to tell them but—"

  The mayor stood, his surprise at her interruption apparent by his twitching mustache. “You—you can’t just burst in here. Who are you?”

  Sam wasn’t intimidated. She glanced down at the phone he’d dropped on the desk. The beard-trimming pin amused her, and she struggled to stay in character. Everyone knew the mayor was obsessed with his beard, and they all found it hilarious. She pointed to the name tag stitched onto her overalls. “I’m Susie Sampson from Rodney’s Pest Control,” she said in an overblown, low-falsetto voice. “We are the state sanctioned pest control contractor for this area. Sir, I’m telling you, you’ve all got to get out. We have a rabid animal running wild in this building.”

  “A rabid—what on earth are you talking about?” The mayor stuttered in indignation.

  Sam ignored the mayor and snatched up the red kennel, then headed across the room to move the curtains, and look behind chairs. “We know the critter is in here sir. I’ll find him, but you need to get out, for your own protection.”

  “Stop that this instant!” the mayor bellowed, coming around his desk to intervene. “You can’t be in here!”

  Rachel stood near the door watching the scene in astonishment.

  At that moment, Latrice, waiting in the storage room below the mayor’s office, made a loud grunting noise and rattled the heating ducts.

  The mayor screamed like a little girl and jumped onto a chair. Rachel ran from the room.

  Even Sam was startled by the racket, and she knew it was coming “There it is!” she shouted. “And it’s bigger than I thought! You’ve got to get out!” She reached into her backpack and pulled out thick leather gloves, body armor used for sparing, and a pointed tool with a wooden handle for stirring campfires.

  The duct work rattled again by the time Sam had the armor on and the stick pointed at the heading vent, the mayor had jumped down from the chair and sprinted from the room.

  “Ya’ll run outside where it’s safe.” Sam hollered after them. “I’ll get this critter!”

  The young guard returned to his station near the front door of the courthouse and his pudgy older coworker waddled up to him, out of breath. “You know that gal we had in here a few minutes ago looking for a racoon?” The man gasped.

  The young guard scanned the group of people now crowding the courthouse vestibule with concern. “Yeah?”

  “Well, that lady over there says she’s a biologist from the state board of health,” the older man pointed over his shoulder to where Mildred stood, wearing the curly gray wig and thick, black-rimmed glasses, along with an official looking lab coat. She even had some sort of identification clipped onto her pocket.

  “She says this racoon business is really bad and that we have to comply,” the chubby guard continued. “Did you know you have to get shots in your stomach if you’re bitten by a rabid animal?” The man’s eyes bugged in fear at the words.

  Panic buzzed through the room at the man’s announcement.

  Unnoticed in the hubbub, Monique entered the courthouse.

  “Shush, you’ll start a stampede,” the first guard hissed, pushing his way past his coworker to the security station. He lifted the phone to make an announcement. “Folks, we have a minor emergency, and we need everyone to quickly and quietly evacuation the building. Please use the stairs, not the elevators, and leave the building now.”

  The call over the loud speaker caused a new ripple of concern to wash through the crowd. Instead of moving toward the door, the people scattered in fear.

  “You,” the young guard snapped grabbing the older guard by the arm, “Supervise this.” Then he hurried back toward the elevator. He never made it though because Monique stepped in front of him.

  When Latrice heard the announcement, she headed to the basement where she tugged on her rubber gloves and flipped the breaker for the security cameras. Then she flipped a few more for good measure. With a grin she removed her gloves, tucked them into her pocket, and hurried back up the service stairs.

  Jessica took her children by the hand to join the people filing from the room to head for the stairs.

  Monique, dressed in her biking leathers which included spiky-heeled boots, chaps, and a vest with a skull logo on the back, approached the guard. She wasn’t recognizable under all the dark makeup rimming her eyes, let alone her black lips. She tucked a black helmet under one arm as she moved to block the young guard from the elevator. “What is going on here?” she demanded, looking her most intimidating.

  The harried man tried to push past her but she’d have none of it.

  “Look, I got court today,” Monique continued, taking a step closer to the guard. “And I want to know what’s happening.” She leaned into the guard’s face and poked his chest with her finger. “I ain’t about to miss a court date and end up in prison again!”

  The young man’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, Heidi tilted her head, hoping to understand the photo of a blueprint displayed on her phone screen. Sam had taken good pictures of the drawings she’d found in the mayor’s office—Heidi just wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

  The front door buzzed, so she closed the drawing and slipped her phone into the drawer under the counter.

  Michelle hurried into the post office, her face bright with exertion and her pink hair damp and mussed.

  Heidi could see that her friend was out of breath and upset. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  Michelle leaned on the counter and held up one finger, indicating she needed a moment. With her hand on her chest, she tried to speak. “Susan Harrison—haircut—today.”

  “Susan came in today for a haircut?” Heidi asked, hoping to hurry along the news.

  Michelle nodded, her eyes wide with excitement. “She said—Oh my gosh—” Her hands dropped to her knees in an attempt to catch her breath. Finally, she straightened and tried again. “She’s on the city council, right?”

  Heidi bobbed her head to agree.

  “Well, she said the mayor didn’t include the council in the planning process about the traffic thing.”

  “Didn’t include—” Heidi was confused. “Then how did he get the resolution passed?”

  “That’s the thing,” Michelle continued. “It was hard to get info out of Susan without making her suspicious, but evidently the mayor told the council he had it all taken care of. He produced drawings and paperwork and said he had it all ready to go, so they signed off on it.”

  “But that’s not how it’s supposed to work,” Heidi argued. “Didn’t the council care about the houses being torn down?” In the back of her mind, she was more than a little confused because the mayor wasn’t that organized. Rachel must have helped him get all the paperwork in order. Poor Rachel.

  “I don’t think they even knew.” Michelle said. “According to Susan, the council took a few minute
s to look over the plans and then okayed it on the spot.”

  Heidi scowled. “The lack wits.”

  “Anyway, I gotta get back,” Michelle said, already heading for the door. “I’ve got a salon full of customers. I just wanted to let you know, and I had to tell you in person. I think this is an important piece of the puzzle, don’t you?”

  Heidi shrugged. “It’s certainly confusing. I’m beginning to think the mayor is railroading the whole town on this thing.”

  “Agreed! Oh wait,” Michelle came back toward the desk, looked over her shoulder to be sure they were alone, then tilted her head to see further back into the post office. “Could I see—you know—the package?”

  Heidi’s first impulse was to say no, but after days of doubting herself and concerns about how to handle the parcel, she relented. “Hang on,” she whispered, glancing out the window into the parking lot. The coast was clear so she retrieved the parcel and brought it to the front counter.

  Michelle took a step back but leaned forward, her eyes round with curiosity.

  Heidi turned the parcel so her friend could see the bloody hand print.

  “Creepy!” Michelle gasped and jumped back. Her gaze came up to meet Heidi’s. “That really does look like blood, doesn’t it.”

  Heidi scrutinized the horror on her friend’s face. Just watching the other woman gape at the thing made her own concern feel validated.

  Later, Heidi pushed the box across the counter. “Here you go,” she said, happy to see Adam. She’d uncharacteristically watched for him in anticipation, waiting for him to come pick up his mail. He was usually there first thing in the morning, and much to her chagrin, she’d jumped every time the door buzzed, thinking it may be him.

  “Thanks,” he said, checking the box’s return address. “I’ve ordered so much stuff, I can’t keep track anymore.”

  “Is it painting supplies or car parts?” Heidi asked, breaking her own cardinal rule. It didn’t count though, because he’d already said he was getting those things.

  He looked up with a grin. “Yeah.”

  Which was it, she wondered, car parts or paint supplies? What kind of car needed so many parts and what was he painting?

  “It’s for a Jeep I’m restoring,” he offered, being uncharacteristically chatty.

  “That sounds interesting,” Heidi lied. She knew nothing about cars or painting them, nor had she ever cared.

  “Yeah, well, this one will be a challenge. I may need to have some help,” Adam admitted.

  “You’ve been so helpful to me, telling me about the review and all, maybe I could help you with it.”

  Adam’s eyes twinkled and he offered a warm leisurely grin that melted Heidi to the floor. She knew if she took her offer any further she was in danger of outright flirting, so she changed the subject. She considered flirting unacceptable. “I need some help with the demolition review.” she added, watching his response.

  His brow lifted, as if he were unhappy and a little surprised that the conversation had shifted from her coming over to help with the Jeep. “Yeah?”

  Heidi hesitated, concerned about his one-word response. Then again, Adam was a man of few words. She wanted to ask him a million questions about the review process, but she was scared. And she wasn’t just scared of his rejection, she was scared of her own feelings. Asking for help was opening herself up to him in many ways. She knew she was strong and ultimately she’d be fine, but the whole thing was still very strange and disconcerting. Did admitting she needed his help mean she was weak? It had been a long time since she’d asked a man for anything. “I found out my house is listed on the state historic register,” she rushed to say before she changed her mind. “But I’m not sure how to proceed. It would appear that I’m only weeks from demolition and the information online is a little vague. Could you help me?” Her admission wasn’t completely true—she had a decent start on the thing, but she couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to Adam, and that wasn’t like her.

  He cocked his hip against the counter. “I’d be happy to, but—"

  She waited while he considered his words. He must have mixed feelings about getting involved.

  “A contractor has been hired?”

  She shrugged, trying to hide how stressed she was about the whole situation. No man would want to help an emotional basket case of a woman.

  His brow creased. “Are you saying that the city issued building permits to knock down a house on the state historical register?”

  Well crap, now she’d opened a can of worms. She wasn’t very sure of anything but that the project was underway. Now she’d have to explain that the mayor didn’t care about breaking the rules, and she’d have to explain how she knew about it.

  He crossed his arms. “I worked for years in city management, and I can tell you that’s just wrong. Someone is cutting corners.”

  Heidi grimaced and did the side-eye.

  He straightened and his arms dropped to his sides. “You know who is behind this, don’t you.”

  Without realizing it, she took a step backwards.

  “Heidi, what’s going on?”

  She tried to chuckle but it came out a raspy, choking noise. “Don’t you bother with it,” she waved him off. “It’s not your problem. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

  “We? Are you a we?” He glanced at her left hand.

  Her face fell as she searched back through her words. Oh shoot, now she’d given him the wrong idea about her relationship situation. She couldn’t admit she’d been referring to the society. Besides, she’d actually been referring to herself and Tyler as much as the secret group. It was their home that was in danger. She shook her head, knowing her next sentence may well chase him off for good. “I meant me and my son, Tyler,” She admitted. There was simply no way she could tell him about the society, but why did she always end up lying to Adam?

  Now it was Adam’s turn to cover first his relief, then his surprise. “Oh,” he squeaked, shoving his hands into his front pockets.

  They stared at each other, each waiting for the other to comment.

  Finally, Heidi made the first attempt at conversation. “I really just need some help to save my house,” she said quietly.

  Feeling like a jerk, Adam pulled his hands free. “I can help you with that ma’am, it’s not a problem.”

  Heidi’s heart sank. She’s been demoted from a first name basis back to ma’am.

  He took his package and offered a lame smile. “Want me to come by your house tonight and help you with the paperwork?”

  She shrugged. “You don’t need to do that.”

  Silence fell between them.

  He cleared his throat. “It would appear that I do or you’ll lose your house. I’ve lost a house and it’s a bad feeling.”

  Her gaze came up to meet his. A million questions flooded her mind and evidently she didn’t hide her feelings well.

  He took a step back. “I’ll be there at 8:00, would that be okay?”

  She could only offer a nod, her throat was too choked to speak.

  He walked to the door and gave her a weak grin, then headed to his truck. But instead of getting inside and driving away, he put the package on the seat of the truck and came back inside.

  Heidi stood waiting, watching.

  The door beeped and he walked directly up the counter, his air serious.

  Her eyebrows went up. “Did you need something else?”

  “Yes ma’am,” he said. “Your address.”

  Rachel knocked, then poked her head into the mayor’s office. “Sir, your appointment is here.”

  He stood. “Ah yes, thank you Rachel, send him in please.”

  The secretary stepped back out of the doorway, accepting the fact that the mayor only spoke politely to her when others were around.

  A short, grubby man with a round belly and a stubbly beard strode in.

  Mayor Winslow came around his desk. “Buford, thank you for coming.”

  R
achel quietly went out and closed the door.

  The little man’s beady black eyes took in the mayor from head to foot. “Well, don’t you look fancy,” he drawled. “You clean up real pretty cousin, yes you do.”

  The mayor winced but put his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder, drawing him further into the office. “Let’s keep the cousin part on down-low, got my drift?” He said in a low voice, glancing toward the door.

  “Whatever, Tommy, this is your gig.”

  The mayor frowned and massaged his temple. “No, this is a project for the city of Sugar Mountain, remember?”

  “Whatever…”

  Mayor Winslow extended his hand toward one of the chairs facing his desk. “Sit down and let’s have a chat.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Buford grunted as he dropped into a chair.

  “Now then, about the project,” the mayor said, returning to his seat on the other side of the huge desk. “Do you have everything you need? Plans, schedule, workers? Is your equipment ready? How long will it take to get it all up here?”

  Buford worked up a chaw and looked for a place to spit. “About that,”

  The mayor’s eyes got large when he realized what his cousin was looking for. In a panic, he jumped up to dig through his trash can. Finding an empty soda bottle, he thrust it at his cousin.

  Buford spit in the bottle and the mayor winced.

  “About the workers and such,” the little man started again. “It’s gonna cost a passel to get them all up here, you gonna cover that?”

  The mayor lowered himself back into his chair and stroked his beard. “You sent me an estimate for the job, Buford. Surely that included transportation and such.”

  The little man’s eyes narrowed. “Did it?”

  Mayor Winslow’s fingers tapped on the edge of the desk. For the first time in weeks, he was unsure that his plan would be successful.

  Adam and the dog stood at a stalemate at his back door. “I’m leaving in a few minutes. You need to go out,” Adam said, but the dog didn’t budge.