Kari Jacobs Box Set

by Harper Harris

  “What have we here?” I flipped through the papers and it didn’t take me long to guess. They looked like blueprints.

  “The surveys of my property that the realtor had made. These were what I was shown when I bought my house. They clearly indicate the property lines. However, Miss June is always going on about how they’re false or fraudulent or whatever, telling me to throw them into whatever hole I dug them out of and calling me mean names a real lady would never use,” she mumbled that last part.

  Internally, I chuckled at her offended sensibilities, though I found this aspect of living in the South enormously charming. I’d been called ‘mean names’ in San Francisco that’d make Ashley keel over. Instead of sharing these, I said: “Go on.”

  She shook her head and shrugged, as if reviewing Miss June’s insults. “She says that her family used to own the whole block, but she has no proof,” Ashley continued. “It’s all just her word and I’m supposed to believe it like it’s gospel. She acts like she created the earth under my house!”

  What Ashley said made me feel for her, but sympathy wasn’t going to solve the problem. Sadly, there wasn’t much I could do for her.

  “It’s awful to have a bad neighbor like Miss June mar your homelife,” I said. “But there is technically no legal claim here. The burden of proof is on your neighbor since you have possession of the land. She would need to prove that it belongs to her with a contract that somehow preempts yours and, from what you’ve told me, she has none of that.”

  “I see,” Ashley said inscrutably.

  “Harassment by mean old ladies could be a police matter, if you want to take it that far. Get some video of her being a––um, being rude to you, excessively, or trespassing. With evidence, you can get the police involved and we’d have more of a case.”

  Though, to be blunt, the hayseeds who passed for law enforcement here in Appleton did not inspire firm confidence, at least from what I had seen.

  But then, Ashley threw me a curve ball, adding, “Oh, but there is more! So much more. In order to lay her claim on my property, Miss June has parked her old Buick, probably older than the woman herself, in my driveway! She never even drives the rusty old thing. It’s just sitting there. Plus, she pulled up a row of flowers I planted. Just ripped them out of the ground.”

  Aha! Now this I could sink my teeth into. What Miss June had done was illegal and demanded corresponding action.

  “You wouldn’t have video of that, would you?” I asked, wincing, in the vain hope things might be that easy. “Or any witnesses?”

  “I’m afraid not, Kari,” Ashley said, crossing her arms. “She came like a thief in the night.”

  “Okay, there’s still a handful of crimes and misdemeanors I can work with here. First, before we start any formal proceedings, we’ll simply threaten her with legal action. A lot of people don’t like having to go to court and will avoid it at all costs. Miss June may be opposed to the idea and could desist without you having to plead your case in front of a judge,” I explained as I began typing out my millionth cease-and-desist letter.

  Ashley appeared to be content with this course of action. Or maybe not so much content, as resigned to taking my lawyerly advice because, after all, I was the lawyer. Even if Ashley was less than satisfied with my idea, she went along with it. Once I finished the letter, we went over it together.

  “So, this is all pretty standard,” I said. “What we’ll be sending to Miss June is a demand to move her car and to no longer lay any claims to your property under any circumstances. So, no more pulling up your flowers, walking on your lawn uninvited, talking to you about who allegedly owns what. That all sound good?”

  “Suppose she ignores your letter like she does me?”

  “Ah, well, then we have a suite of legal remedies at our disposal,” I said confidently, leaning back in my chair like I had everything under control. “We’ll get that Buick towed out of your driveway, for starters. Maybe file a restraining order. Get the police involved. I doubt it’ll come to any of that. Miss June will probably just go find someone else to bother.”

  Ashley seemed to warm to my plan after reading the letter’s contents, commenting, “That’s all I want––to be left alone. It would be a Godsend if this actually worked.”

  “I’ll finalize this and send it out before the end of the day. Hopefully, this will make your life a whole lot easier.”

  Ashley turned to me before leaving and added: “I admire your optimism, Kari. I wish I had as much faith in this letter as you do. Miss June is a tough old bat and she’ll fight us each and every step of the way. She’s got nothing else to do.”

  Maybe I hadn’t been too excited about this case earlier, but Ashley’s warning lit a fire under me.

  I smiled, before answering, “I’m eager for her to try.”

  Chapter Two

  July 11th

  I hadn’t heard anything from Ashley or Miss June since I’d issued the cease-and-desist letter. It hadn’t been that long, just a little over a day, but it was promising. Hopefully, it had panned out as I predicted and there would be no more problems.

  I had enjoyed Ashley’s company even if it was for work. As she had remarked, we appeared to be very close in age and I hadn’t done anything fun since the move. Would it be weird to contact her for non-legal reasons, like to hang out? I still had the same number of friends I did last week, which was one, my new puppy, Shortbread. Funny, but I never had this problem at my old firm; none of the stuffy old complainers I worked for ever inspired me to go out for happy hour. I laughed at myself, dropping the idea at least for the moment.

  After showering and playing with Shortbread at the apartment, I was killing some time at the local coffee shop before my morning began. Since it was so close to the office, I was becoming a fixture at the creatively named Appleton Café. It was small, but never had too many customers, so it never felt cramped.

  The décor looked as if an upscale, urban coffee house had a one-night-stand with a diner and this café was the baby they gave up for adoption. A few Formica booths lined the front by the windows and a counter with stools built into the floor demarked a small commercial kitchen. But the owner, Ted Benton, still managed a coffee shop vibe in the dining area with small round tables and art deco lamps suspended over them from the ceiling. And he displayed local art on the walls, which I thought was cool, even if I was privately a snob about the pieces themselves.

  It really was a nice little place, so very Appleton, and I enjoyed spending my free time there.

  As soon I walked inside, the handsome man behind the counter gave me a slow, warm smile. Was it weird to describe him with that particular adjective? I didn’t really care since I was the only one who could hear my thoughts. Thank God.

  Ted was cute in an unintimidating way––no sharp angles or piercing eyes––but soft and sweet. I did my best to ignore him, but Ted has one of those faces, you know? One you just wanted to look at. And have talk to you. And trust.

  And maybe kiss?

  Hey, I didn’t know, my last date was a presidential election ago.

  “Morning, Miss Kari. Punctual as always.”

  Ted grew up around here but didn’t have the local drawl, which I couldn’t figure out. Every now and then I’d meet someone from Appleton who spoke unaccented, news anchor English and it would blow my mind.

  “Hello, Theodore,” I said. “Yes, I have an appointment with some hi-octane coffee and I want to be on time.”

  “Half-caff, soy, no-foam latté. Coming up.”

  When I’d first come into the shop, I’d ordered that mouthful, but Ted had no idea what I was talking about.

  “Think you could explain that string of words to me, miss?” he’d said. “Except soy. I know that one.”

  Nothing like my big-city Starbucks, for sure. I explained the order to him and he gave me a house coffee for free. For my trouble, he’d told me.

  The coffee he gave me was black as winter coal, as they say around her
e, but honestly––full and complete truth––it was the best damn cup of coffee I have ever had. It didn’t have the fancy names or extra add-ins or any of that stuff that comes with the shops I usually frequented, but it was simply the best.

  Ted had promised to get the ingredients for my next visit. Secretly I hoped he’d just forget. But I came in a day later and he beamed at me, saying, “Half-caff, soy, no foam latté.” And he turned around to make it. It was fine, but it didn’t taste nearly as scrumptious as that house coffee.

  Now, more than a week later, Ted scrambled to make me my latté whenever I came in. I didn’t want to admit how wrong I’d been to switch back from the house coffee. I was on the point of just telling the truth and ordering it. Then I’d get to drink the best cup of coffee ever. But I found myself still too embarrassed to let Ted in on my dumb secret.

  There he was, fiddling with the knobs and steam-wand on the espresso machine. He really was trying so hard. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t grateful. So, I stood to the side, waiting for my fancy-dancy latté, like the stubborn woman that I was.

  While Ted brewed away, a nice, older woman at the counter offered me a compliment. “Darlin’, I absolutely adore your blouse!”

  I was kind of surprised at first, pointing to myself even though she and I were the only customers currently there.

  “Yes, you, sugar! Oh, you’re cute as a bug. I simply must know where you got something so elegant and bright. Is that Ralph Lauren? I simply adore his designs. I don’t like to think of myself as too fancy, but at my age one must enjoy the finer things in life from time to time.”

  It took me a few seconds to realize she had finished talking. I almost didn’t want her to stop, so mesmerized was I by her whole demeanor. Ted handed her a steaming hot mug of his amazing coffee that I wouldn’t be drinking.

  “Oh, I’m not actually sure where this shirt is from,” I confessed. “My mother got it for me and I’ve never really paid much attention to designers.”

  I looked down at my shirt, lightly pulling at the hem to get a better view. I’d always liked this blouse, but never paid it any extra thought. It was a sleeveless button-up with a pale floral pattern.

  “Thank you for the compliment. Though mostly, I wear it because it’s linen and this heat is killer.”

  I hadn’t gotten the chance to really talk to anyone outside of the firm yet. I mean, there was Ted, but we hadn’t had any substantial conversations outside of anything besides coffee. This was nice, though, having a little gab with a friendly face. People still did that here.

  “Linen and cotton are the more breathable fabrics. Those natural fibers let the air flow. Oh, I’m going on and on, talking about fabrics. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  I turned toward her, so we could deepen our conversation. I felt overeager, like I’d been starved for company. Even though I was kind of shy, weird trait for a lawyer, I know, I still needed to interact with other humans and now it was easier since she opened up the floor.

  “I’m Kari. I just moved here a little over a week ago. I work at the law firm as a junior associate.”

  “Where you from, Kari? I knew you couldn’t be from around here since you talk so funny.” She touched my elbow and laughed. I joined her.

  “I do stick out around here,” I admitted. “I’m from San Francisco. We have the opposite problem as Appleton. Up there it’s cold and wet almost all the time. Bone chilling. But here it’s hot and humid and half my wardrobe is useless. I haven’t had much of a chance to get to meet the people in town, but if they’re all as nice as you, then I can’t wait.”

  I’d suppose I’d said more than I intended, but her ease with words made me want to talk and talk and talk. She smiled at my admission, echoing my sentiment.

  “Aren’t you the sweetest thing? I’m Angeline. I run the local preschool and it looks like it’s my duty to officially welcome you to Appleton. I hope you’re liking our fine town so far.”

  This was the first time anyone had asked me this since I'd moved here, and I didn’t hesitate to answer, “If I may say so, Angeline, I. Am. Loving it here. I've always lived in the big city and Appleton has been such a delightful change of pace.”

  Angeline smiled at me and swelled up with civic pride. She was about to say something more, but the ding of the front door interrupted us. We both turned and another older, but considerably less pleasant woman walked in.

  She shot Angeline the dirtiest look, then ambled to the other side of the counter, mumbling, “The riff raff they let walk around and the people that get served. It's preposterous. This town used to have standards.”

  Whoever she was, her words weren't being directly said to anyone, but we were all obviously meant to have heard.

  Thankfully, Ted was having none of this bad attitude and he responded to her mumblings. “Here, in my coffee shop, we don't discriminate. If someone wants a hot drink, I'm here to make it. If you don’t like it, you are free to leave.”

  There was a second when I thought she might just go, but I underestimated her verbal bite.

  “Well, you should change your policy. Then at least you'd have a respectable business. It’s that kind of thinking that’s pointing this country downhill.”

  The second time around, Ted just rolled his eyes and took her order. Silence prevailed while he made the hot tea with lemon. I'd never imagined being so uncomfortable in a cafe. Cringey things happened all the time where I came from, but I guess I had learned to filter them. But here with just the four of us, it really stood out.

  The tea didn't take long and with one last nasty look, the mean lady left. I wondered why someone so clearly misanthropic would come out among people just order one hot tea with lemon. But the world is full of mysteries.

  I glanced across the counter to see Ted still hard at work on my latté. It looked like I’d be waiting a bit longer, so I turned Angeline and asked, “Who was that?”

  She exhaled a long sigh, hinting at a long history.

  But I didn't have to wait long for Angeline to explain: “Her name is Cindy Carter. She’s never liked me, since we were children. Her mama never let her play with me or my younger brothers, said we were white trash and too lowly for her precious daughter. I tried not to let it get to me, but Cindy let that pride give her a big head. Bigger than it should be.”

  Wow. I had known people weren't always nice, but that's just plain nasty. Shaking my head, I mused briefly over what ugliness this lovely little town might hide.

  I wanted to talk with Angeline more, but she got a text and had to go.

  “Thank you for the talk, Kari, it was so nice to meet you. I'll see you around town, I’m sure.” She placed her empty mug on the counter. “Delicious coffee, Ted, as ever.”

  “Much obliged, Miss Angeline. You come back now.”

  I waved my so long and with that Angeline exited the shop. I’d wished we could have chatted more; I just loved the way people talked down here.

  With impeccable timing, Ted finished my drink, but he couldn't simply hand it to me. He had to present the latté with fanfare.

  “Your half-caff, soy, no-foam latté, Miss Kari.”

  He smiled down at me and I enjoyed the way it made me feel. But I also didn’t want to think about it. So, I took the cup with a hesitant hand, suspicious of Ted's flourishes, but more suspicious of myself.

  I had my first sip while Ted proudly explained, “I think I took thirty seconds off my latté making time. Soon, I'll be a pro and you won’t have to wait as long anymore. You’ll be in and out. Sadly.”

  I had to smile at all the effort Ted was putting into my order and at his little flirtations. It was really too much. He put on that sweet, warm, full smile and I didn't know what to say, so I walked out. I even forgot to thank him. Or say goodbye.

  I felt kind of bad, but Ted was giving me attention I hadn’t received, or had time to look for, in a long, long time, especially from the dude who made my coffee.

  Nonetheless, I left w
ith a smile, amused by Ted’s interest.

  Chapter Three

  July 12th & 13th

  I'd met with Ashley only a few days ago, so I was surprised when she was back in my office. Doubly so, because she was hopping mad. For a second, I was worried I’d done something wrong, but the object of her fury was soon revealed when she slapped a document onto my desk.

  A cursory glance showed me that it was a summons. Miss June was claiming harassment and she wanted a restraining order that would require Ashley to stay 100 feet away.

  This really was a difficult lady and I’d underestimated her shrewdness. I was almost impressed.

  Ashley was pacing back and forth, complaining about the absurdity of the whole situation. “I don't understand why she's doing this. What do I do if this order goes through? I can't stay 100 feet away and stay in my house. That's physically impossible and exactly what the crazy old toad wants.”

  This seemed very irregular. I wanted to reassure and calm Ashley, but there were a few, possibly delicate, questions I had to ask first.

  “Tell me about your interactions with Miss June. Have things ever escalated to a point where it could lead to real violence?”

  Ashley gained back some of her composure. “Well, we yell at each other a lot across the yard. I do my level best to avoid her, but we’re neighbors and with her Buick in my driveway it’s become harder. And then you sent the letter and that’s all,” she assured me, and I believed her. “I've never retaliated or done anything nasty to her, but it's like she's out to ruin my life.”

  I tried to calm Ashley down, promising to do my absolute best. I needed to time to prepare for the hearing tomorrow, so I sent Ashley home. This case was proving to be a lot more exciting than expected. I just hoped I could deliver for Ashley's sake.

  The next day Ashley and I were waiting outside the courthouse. It was smaller than most I’d been in, but it was still pretty big. It definitely had an old vibe. I was pretty sure this is what people who cared, like my mother, called Antebellum architecture. An arcade of columns, a balcony, a beautiful garden, it was gorgeous, I’ll give those Confederate coots that much. The interior was just as ornate and spacious, but I couldn’t spend too much time admiring the building because I had a job to do.