by Jack Gibby
Dunn did as instructed and turned the brick over.
“Fuck off,” Dunn read. Missy laughed.
“Wow,” she said. “I guess someone really wants us to fuck off.”
“You think?”
Missy plucked the brick from Dunn’s hand and looked at it herself. She read the inscription a few times over, trying to see if she might recognize the handwriting or if there was anything specific or discerning about it.
“I thought this was over,” said Dunn. “Now I’m getting bricks thrown through my window?”
“We did put a connected guy in jail,” said Missy. She handed the brick back to Dunn. He took it and tossed it onto the couch. “Maybe we aren’t getting out of this as cleanly as we thought.”
“Yeah” said Dunn. Missy offered a half-smile and a shrug.
Dunn began picking up the larger pieces of glass and after another moment, Missy started to pick them up as well.
The next day, Dunn stood in his yard and watched as three men installed a new window in the front of his house. Each time a car slowly rolled by, Dunn felt a pang of anxiety inside, and each time it turned out to be just someone gawking at the window installation. The thought of moving entered Dunn’s mind. He considered chucking it all, leaving Traverse City, and starting again somewhere else. This was supposed to be his retirement. But things had grown much more complicated.
As he mulled over what he was going to do, Walt sashayed up next to him with his hands in his pockets. It took Dunn a moment to notice Walt, but when he did he gave his neighbor a nod.
“I’ve never heard anything like this happening in this town,” Walt mused.
“Walt, I think this town is hiding a lot of things that we’re not aware of,” said Dunn. “I’m not so sure it’s the idyllic resort town I once thought it was.”
“You might be right, Gannon,” said Walt.
Together, the two men watched the workers in silence. It was a beautiful summer day, the sun high overhead in a vast blue sky. The weather was perfect. Dunn just wanted to be indoors.
“Did the police offer anything?” Walt asked. “Did they have any leads?”
“I didn’t call the police,” said Dunn.
“You didn’t?” replied Walt. “Why not?”
“I guess… I didn’t want them involved,” Dunn admitted. Walt made a face like he thought Dunn might be crazy.
“All right,” said Walt. “Fair enough.”
Another car came rolling by, but this was a car that Dunn recognized. It was Missy. She parked out front at the curb, and Dunn watched her leap out of the driver side. It was obvious that Missy was frenetic and in a hurry. She came running up to where Dunn and Walt stood, dressed in her professional work clothes, her face flush with excitement.
“Dunn!” she called. “Holy shit, you’ll never believe this.”
“What’s going on?” Dunn asked.
“The brick,” said Missy. “The writing on it. I knew I recognized the handwriting when I saw it but I wasn’t sure until today.”
“Okay,” said Dunn with some hesitance. Walt’s face was full of confusion.
“You’ve got to come with me,” said Missy. “Come to the winery. You’re going to flip out when you see this.”
“Emperor?” said Dunn.
“Yes,” said Missy. “Emperor.”
“Didn’t you say that you weren’t related to that Marlowe family?” Walt said, still confused. Missy paused and looked at Walt.
“Did I?” said Missy. “I don’t recall.”
“Maybe you didn’t,” Walt replied. “Hmm. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Anyway,” said Missy, turning her attention back to Dunn. “Hop in the car and come with me. I need your eyes to tell me that I’m not crazy.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got these workers here,” said Dunn, pointing back with his thumb toward the house. “I can’t just leave them.”
“Walt,” said Missy. “Will you take care of these workers for Dunn?”
“Me?” said Walt. “Well, I suppose I can. Sure.”
“Thanks,” Missy said and smiled. “Come on, Dunn. Let’s move.”
Without waiting for another response, Missy turned and made her way back toward her car. Dunn looked at Walt for a moment, and then he shrugged and followed her. As Missy climbed into the driver side, Dunn yanked open the passenger door and the two of them got in together. Dunn looked to Missy as though he were waiting further instruction.
“You got your gun?” Missy asked.
“What?” said Dunn. “No, I don’t.”
“Of course you don’t,” said Missy, turning the key and igniting the engine. “They throw a brick through your window and you still don’t learn your lesson.”
Putting the car in gear, Missy squealed away from the curb and drove off. Dunn still wasn’t sure what was going on, why he’d even agreed to get in the car, or how he had ever gotten himself into all this. It was a shit show and he felt like he had a front row seat.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Dunn said, looking over to Missy who was focused on the road.
“I’m going to show you,” she said. “Put your seatbelt on.”
Dunn put his seatbelt on. It didn’t make him feel any more secure.
A Note From Jack Gibby:
Thank you for reading. It means a lot to me to know that you enjoyed my book. If you did indeed like it, leaving a positive review is immensely helpful in getting the word out to more potential readers. So if you could take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you liked most, I would certainly appreciate it. Even a simple, “I really enjoyed this book,” can go a long way.
Traverse Bound is only the beginning for Dunn and Missy. There is a lot more to this story and the next installment is already in the works. I hope you will join me for the adventure. To be notified when the next book is released, sign up for the mailing list at my website.
Thanks again for your readership.
www.jackgibby.com
About the Author
Jack Gibby is a native Michigander. After a bit of wandering the country, he is now back home and living up north. He likes drinking wine, listening to records, and reading philosophy, but is not an expert in any of it.
www.jackgibby.com
Get on the List
If you want to follow Gannon Dunn’s on-going story and find out when the next installment of Adventures Up North is released, make sure to head over to Jack Gibby’s website and sign up for the mailing list. Updates are infrequent and there will be no spam.
www.jackgibby.com
Acknowledgments
Thank you to everyone who has supported and believed in me over the years, even when I might have given you an easy reason not to. A special thanks to my wife, her infinite patience, and her acceptance of my eccentricities. I don’t know how you do it.
