“I don’t know if you’re aware, Samantha, but people notice me … and my car,” she continued, nodding to the couple looking in the passenger-side window. “So I’m leading by allure. It’s the best strategy for turning tides and convincing people who are afraid to come in that they’re missing out on something grand.”
“Are they? Afraid, I mean.”
“That’s what I understand, but then, I don’t listen to hogwash.”
“But … but …” She struggled to find the right words.
“Look,” Bliss went on. “Let me put it this way … when you were employed by Bliss Happy Homes, you were a worker bee. You made Momma lots of honey, and Momma appreciates, so this queen bee will do what she can for you.”
The Bliss Effect was already working!
The couple that scoped out her car came in, three teenage boys who snapped selfies in front of the showpiece following suit.
“You’re magic, Mrs. Harper,” she whispered.
“Not magic; a leader. I never will be a whiny follower and neither will you, Sam. So hold your durn head up and stop playing victim! Did I mention that I’m also using you as the caterer for our open houses?”
“What?” she gasped.
“As you know, Marcy Sussex arranges those things. I left instructions for her to call and get you on our vendor account.”
Was she hearing right?
She couldn’t be sure. Not with dollar signs erupting in the head. While she had no portable urns to deliver coffee, that could be arranged. Especially since they’d pay for themselves many times over. As a former employee of Bliss, she knew what was spent on catering and the amount was significant.
A few more customers strolled in.
“And, Samantha, that outfit is to die for.” Bliss sniffed in that way she had. “Keep playing to your strengths and you’ll do fine.”
The man outside captured her attention. He was the same one she saw yesterday … and the day before … and the day before that … The only thing that seemed to change was his t-shirt.
“Do you know him?” she asked the real estate mogul.
“What?” commented Bliss before her head whirled around. “Oh, him! He has such nerve returning to Mountain Valley, but then banishing has gone out of fashion. Pity.”
“Then you know him?”
“You would too if you were older.”
The enigmatic remark flew over Sam’s top knot. She hadn’t tried the hairstyle in a while, but it still worked.
“His name is Lee Swayzie. He pulled off a robbery a few years back. Elliot told me he’d returned, which is strange, since he’s a drifter with no family here.”
“Why would your ex-husband tell you that?”
“Robbery. Money. If you have any of the latter, it’s to your benefit to keep abreast of comings and goings of convicted felons who steal it. And since the robbery took place next door,” she said, pointing to the common wall, “it would behoove you to be on guard.”
CHAPTER 18
“Spider Swayzie is in Mountain Valley!” Sam screamed.
“And?”
“And why didn’t you tell me, Lyddie? Why didn’t you know? You were the one who had dinner with Elliot Harper—”
“And I have the pawprints to prove it. I was forced to bring that dress to the cleaners and it’s going to cost me fifty smackeroonis for them to remove that stain and I don’t—”
“Will you stop with the pawprints and stain? The point is you didn’t ask about Swayzie! What kind of snoop are you?”
“Are you implying a bad one?” her ebff shot back.
Sam bit her tongue.
Warbles was the worst section in town and she was smack dab in the middle of it. It was the area that women were cautioned to stay away from, but there she was, parked outside a ramshackle hut that should have been condemned a long time ago. Three rusted cars in the alley behind it, a neighboring dive bar, and a transient motel two properties down completed the picture.
“Let me make this clear,” Lyddie snapped. “I DON’T KNOW WHO SPIDER SWAYZIE IS!”
The volume was deafening and Sam’s left ear absorbed the full shock. She worked the kinks out of the assault by poking in her little finger and giving it a shake.
“You could warn me the next time you go off or is the idea to make me deaf before my time?”
“You know, my feckless ex-friend? You’re so good at finding fault, but not so good at actually listening to what people say.”
“Maybe I caught it from you!” Sam retorted. “And Swayzie is one of the two men who robbed Drossider’s.”
“Drossi-who?”
Life was stirring in that pot of pudding Lyddie called a brain.
The robbery was where the word “cursed” came in. And if Lyddie had gotten that much from Sam’s mother, she’d gotten the rest.
“Never mind. I’ll explain later … when I see you,” she said, cutting off the ebff.
“See me?” Lyddie queried. “Then you’re planning on coming over? I thought you weren’t going to talk to me any—”
The game was afoot.
Sam focused, hanging up in midsentence and cutting off the caterwauling coming through the airwaves. It interfered with her gearing up for the mission ahead. The cell was snapped shut and dropped into the recesses of her purse.
Although she wasn’t looking forward to this, sometimes you had to enter the lion’s den to find out what you needed to know. Of course, sometimes you got killed in the process, but she pushed that possibility aside as she unlocked the door and slid out of her car before heading up the littered walkway.
Beer cans, needles, beer cans, needles, more beer cans, more needles ….
At least the man holed up in what passed for a house was consistent in what he threw on the cement. And cans didn’t break, so there was a grand intelligence to the disposal system. One crunched under her foot, but then, she’d been distracted by keeping a lookout for muggers. She tightened her grip on the satchel she was carrying and shoved the fear making her want to run onto the back burner.
She pressed her one good ear to the door and listened. Yes, the rat was up and scurrying around, so she inhaled deeply and formed a fist.
One … two … three knocks.
Soft, but effective. Before she knew it, the person who reeked of odors of unknown origin was in her face. A dumbfounded, drug-fueled haze was replaced by a hate-filled, sleazy smile.
“Sam Powell ... as I live and breathe … come on in, Princess … the water’s fine.”
The odiferous man stepped aside, allowing her a better view of what she was getting into. The sight was beyond unappetizing. She used her hand to fan the smell of fetid morning breath, and the odor emanating from the interior of the abode wasn’t any better. Alcohol, smoke, and rancid vomit combined to make her stomach threaten to revolt, but she persevered.
“The smell is from the bar across the way, and not from me, in case that’s what you’re thinking.”
Not entirely, Corona.
The prime hater on her enemy’s list slammed the door shut with a cowboy-boot-encased foot, the rest of the leg bared. A ripped pair of underwear kept this meeting from heading into the pornographic zone. Corona’s chest was bare as well, and despite the abuse his body suffered through bad decisions and too much life, it had remained surprisingly fit. The stomach flat, there were the remnants of the six-pack acquired on the high school track team.
Sam looked for a place to sit, but with all the clutter going on, it made the selection impossible. Corona caught the stalemate and helped by tossing kitchenware, old newspapers, and stinky fast food wrappers off the only chair that had four legs. The tossed items landed on top of a table already overburdened by waste and created a mini-avalanche.
Corona remained unfazed, but then, he was probably used to clutterslides by now.
“Didn’t think you’d have enough nerve to show after what you did. Beer?” he asked as he pulled a cold one out of the fridge that had no busines
s still working.
She shook her head, having serious misgivings on whether this showdown was a good idea.
“No, but that first part … about what you perceive I did … I do want to talk about that.”
He strolled back, slowing the lazy pace further by taking deep gulps of the foamy alcohol, and brushing off one end of the lopsided couch. The items crashed to the floor. He paused, following Sam’s brown eyes.
The trail ended at the boots.
He picked up one foot, showing off the hand-tooled shitkickers.
“Like ‘em? Bought ‘em in El Paso. Used to be pretty hostile out there, but it’s safe now, ya know … and, yes, I sleep in ‘em. Bother you, Little Miss High and Mighty?”
No, but the underwear did.
Only Corona would be so blasé as to not go and put more clothing on. And was right … she was bothered by the admission and embarrassed about being called out, but she damn well wouldn’t admit it.
“Bother me? Why should it bother me?”
A stale laugh showed her what he thought of her denials.
“Why you so worried about what I wear to bed, Princess?” he queried as he slid closer and spread his legs. His tight behind sank into the tattered cushions as he took another swig. “You come here for some of Corona Pete? Never understood why you missed out on the good stuff but gave it away to everyone else in school. And don’t pretend you didn’t. I got that text, Kapow-Pow-Powell.”
The nickname that haunted her made her teeth grit.
Yes, he had been on the recipient list of the email that would have ruined her life—if not for Lyddie.
Warm feelings of gratitude rushed up, coloring her cheeks. She owed Wexler a lot. Yes, the awful gossip still rose up from time-to-time, but it would have been a million times worse without Lyddie confronting the social media nightmare in the face and glaring it down.
“It wasn’t true,” she stated, regaining her composure. She wasn’t thirteen anymore, and wouldn’t be intimidated by a reprehensible lie designed to destroy her life and dignity.
“Course it was. Half the team admitted it was. Imagine you shagging—”
“I said it’s not true!” she stated more forcefully. “And I’m not interested in you sexually. I’m here because you’re under a misapprehension about a loan.”
“Your little friend tell you that? I knew she would. Rumor is you two aren’t buds, but she’s the one that wiped your ass, and you’re not likely to forget that.”
There was that smirk.
His lips parting, he guzzled more cold beer down as the foot crossed over one knee started jiggling.
“Naturally, she told me. But only because she knows what I’m like.”
“And what would that be?” he responded.
“I’m the kind of person who doesn’t enjoy someone hating me. I’m the kind of person who likes to straighten things out rather than let hostility persist. I’m the kind who stands up and takes responsibility for what I do, but I refuse to take responsibility for things I don’t.”
“So you want to be friends? Is that what you’re saying?”
As he leaned his torso forward, his elbows went on his thighs. The gap of the manspread grew.
“I’m saying that I had nothing whatever to do with the bank turning you down for a mortgage. I was your realtor. It was in my best interest to sell you the house, not prevent you from getting it. It would have been crazy for me to sabotage a commission. I did everything I could to get you that home, Corona. Everything I could legally do, I did and—”
“So how close of a friend you wanna be? Maybe friends with privileges?”
The gleam in his eye said it all.
“I made a mistake coming here, but at least I tried.”
“Oh, you want me. It’s why you finagled with things and got the bank to turn me down. You’re in denial, Princess. Don’t fight it, Kapow-Pow.”
She stood, grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder.
“Whatever!” he taunted. “You run wherever you want to like, the scared wittle wabbit you are. A real man could fix what’s wrong with you. You just remember it’s me that told you that on all those nights you’re alone and wondering why you don’t have anybody keeping you warm. It’s because of you. You’re the one that made the decision, Ka-pow Pow. It’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”
His hand went on her thigh, stroking it as his eyes narrowed.
She’d had enough and the sickening laughter accompanied her out the door reminded her to never do it again.
* * *
“Samantha Powell? Well, I never expected to see you here.”
Sam didn’t either.
Corona had been right about one thing. She had wanted to run home and hide. That was how distasteful the encounter with him had been. Bringing up that incident in her freshman year of high school was too much and had flushed out all the insecurities she’d thought were buried.
But nothing ever stays buried.
That was why she refused to stop. She went with logic and concluded that if something that happened to her fifteen years ago was still important, then something that happened twenty years ago would be too.
“Morning, Eunice. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I-I wanted to discuss something with you … and, well, you’re one of the few people in Mountain Valley that can help me. You stay …. aware.”
She was here to get information, not ruffle feathers. That was why she’d used “aware,” the pc word for #biggestgossiperever. The subterfuge worked.
Or not.
Suspicion drew a line right there in the middle of Eunice’s forehead.
“What exactly does this have to do with, Samantha? Nobody’s put a bug in your ear, have they?”
Lyddie!
She was putting feelers out to see if she was set up … to see if Lyddie lied about not speaking to Sam anymore. While she’d admitted it to Corona, this situation was different. Corona had no validity. No one would believe him, but Eunice they would.
“Bug? I suppose it was my mother. She was talking to me and … and she told me about the robbery at Drossider’s. I didn’t know about it, but she remembered it. So I did some research at the library, and found out it was next door.“
There was the face she wanted to see. The muscles of Eunice’s jaw contracted and readied to spill everything, Sam was invited in and offered refreshments. Considering how her day was going, an iced tea sounded pretty good and the forty-five-year-old was good to her word. She served it outside, placing it on a table kept on the deck.
Why not enjoy the beautiful day?
“Drossiders, huh? Surprised no one told you before … I mean, since you went and rented that place. First, the robbery, then Doris’ murder … the curse is growing. I’d watch my step.”
The gulp of sweet tea went down hard.
The twinkle in Eunice’s eyes was pure evil, but then there was that side to her. In Sam’s short life, she’d already noted how people perpetually in other’s business have a real malevolence towards them. They’re the trolls you meet anonymously on the internet.
Or the ones who start rumors and try to ruin a thirteen-year-old’s life.
“So you believe in curses?” she asked.
Eunice used her pinky to wipe the corners of her mouth. It was affected and so like her to use it to convince people she was well-mannered and above the fray.
Hardly.
“Not usually … but in this case, I do.”
She wrinkled her nose for that last part, drawing out the words and almost passing out from oxygen deprivation. Sam ignored the implication. Nothing like not reacting to someone trying their best to get your goat. They were put in a position of trying harder or suffering from frustration at the target being too obtuse to understand.
“I see,” Sam remarked, feigning neutrality.
“Do you? What exactly do you want to know, Sam?”
“I want to know why Lee Swayzie is back in Mountain Valley.”
> The shocked look on Eunice’s face said it all.
Once in a while, something slipped by, and Swayzie making a return was one.
“Then you didn’t know?”
Probably the first time in her life she was asked that question.
“Why, no … NO!” the ace housewife blurted as she grabbed at her neckline and avoided Sam’s eyes. Her wits came back. She had questions of her own. “When did he get back?”
“That’s a good question. I noticed him when I opened my coffee shop and he’s been there ever since.”
“Hmmm … so he’s back in Mountain Valley and Doris is murdered. Quite the coincidence. No wonder you wanted to find out about that robbery … it’s beyond belief he returned,” she added in a mutter.
“Why do you say that?” she asked, taking another sip.
The sky was the most beautiful shade of blue, and the umbrella was keeping them shaded from the sun. She took a snapshot of the moment for safekeeping—
And because she might need it one of these days.
“Because he was a drifter,” Eunice answered. “Why he let the wind blow him back here is anyone’s guess. Mountain Valley doesn’t need that type of hooligan.”
“Are you saying he used to start trouble? I mean, besides the robbery?”
“On the contrary, I’m saying it was the opposite. He was quiet and polite, but I never bought the act. I suspected he was up to something, but nobody would listen. But I really knew for certain when he hooked up with that Tilbert character. Now Cush Tilbert had been in trouble multiple times. Petty stuff, but still … you could just see the wheels spinning in that punk’s head.”
“And what about Luther Drossider?”
“He ran a business that made money. Sure, there was talk, but if people didn’t like the terms, no one was forcing them to sign the contract.”
Then he was a loan shark. Is that what she was saying?
She kept that question herself—all in hopes of moving the conversation along and covering new ground.
“But choosing Drossider’s …” Eunice continued. “It just goes to show how crazy those two thugs were. I mean, why pick on a place that had an armed guard? But there they went … just like they were going to get away with it and here comes one of them back to the scene of the crime.”
Hammered Page 14
