“I suppose.”
He removed the wok from the heat and began to scrape the contents onto two plates. Maggie took them, one at a time, added rice, and then sat them on the table.
“So, what happens now?” she asked as they sat down.
“I turn over what I have to the DA and see if he wants to prosecute.”
“You think he will?”
“Probably. I have statements from the Charleston police chief and one of his officers that stated what they heard. I’m sure the DA will want to pick up Clicks and prosecute him too, but if he followed my advice, he’s long gone.”
“What advice was that?” she asked as she struggled to pick up a water chestnut with her chopsticks.
“To get out of town and disappear.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because… I don’t know. He was just doing what he had to. Juno was the man I was after. I have Clicks’ statements. Maybe it will be enough for a conviction. If not…” he shrugged.
“So, Juno may get away with it?”
Sean shrugged again. “He might. If the DA decides not to pursue charges or he can’t convince the judge. If Juno’s smart, he’ll take a plea deal and not risk going to trial.”
Maggie shook her head. “It doesn’t seem right for him to not have to pay for what he did.”
“Unless the DA elects to not bring charges, he’ll have to pay.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“If the DA can put his hands on Clicks, the man who actually set the fires, he’ll probably press charges and use Clicks to get Juno on conspiracy to commit arson. If he can’t find Clicks, he may or may not move forward with the case. What I think will happen is he’ll offer Juno a deal. Fines and restitution to Barns in exchange for no jail time.”
“A slap on the wrist?”
He waggled his head side to side as his face twisted. “More than that. Because the buildings were abandoned, it’s a class G felony. That’s the same as swiping someone’s lawnmower.” He paused then shrugged again. “Nobody was physically hurt. If he pays Barns for the damage he caused, that’s probably good enough. Sending him to prison won’t solve anything.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” She looked at him then smiled. “So you’re still perfect.”
He gave her a teasing grin. “I’ve always been perfect.”
She giggled. “No, silly. I mean you solved the case, so your record is still perfect.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s true. Eat your heart out, Sherlock Holmes.”
She smiled at him again, her eyes scrunching in merriment. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Who, me? I’d never do anything like that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Nope. Because now that I have humility, I have everything.”
She snickered and rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh brother. I’ve created a monster.”
He softened his smile and offered her a bit of chicken from his plate. “It’s true. Now that I have you, I have everything a guy could want.”
She rolled her eyes again then pulled the chicken from his chopsticks with her lips. “Laying it on kind of thick, aren’t you?”
He snickered. “Maybe just a little.”
She smiled back at him. “It’s okay. I feel a little bit the same way about you.”
They lapsed into a long moment of silence.
“Well, that was a conversation killer, wasn’t it?” he asked and then chuckled.
She giggled in return. “Yeah.”
He watched her eyes as he took another bite of his food, still smiling as he chewed. The thing was, he wasn’t a bit uncomfortable with what either of them said. A small smile played on her lips and he felt a little tingle of excitement. She didn’t seem that upset by what was said either.
Epilogue
“Mr. McGhee, good luck with your pub,” the young banker said as he reached across the desk to shake Sean’s hand.
“Thank you,” Sean replied, taking the offered hand.
“That’s it?” Maggie asked as he stepped out of the office.
She’d been waiting in the lobby, relaxing on the comfortable couch while flipping through a retirement magazine.
“That’s it.”
“How’s it feel?”
“Scary.”
She smiled. “I bet!”
It had been four months since the Brunswick Police Department had taken over the patrols of Tilley, and they were beginning to turn the tide.
Grayson and Tyrell were the first two officers he’d hired to bolster the ranks of his department, but they weren’t the last. He’d added five more since, including BPD’s first female officer.
The downtown area of Tilley was now, for all practical purposes, crime free, and their regular patrols were keeping it that way. Now they were working to push the crime out of the residential areas.
Their call volume had peaked a couple of weeks ago, and he hoped the slow downward trend continued. He was still hiring, but the frantic pace had slowed. Tilley had more police coverage now than they’d had in years and the crush of calls and arrests was easing.
He’d hired four of his seven officers right out of school, getting them while they were still enthusiastic and positive, still wanting to do their part to make the world a better place. For now, he was pairing the rookies up with some of his old timers, partially so they could learn the ropes, and partially because he didn’t have enough cars available. Still, it was a good system, and having two officers get out of a cruiser often made people think twice before trying their luck and doing something unwise.
He’d been sitting on a little better than $300,000 in cash, money he’d received from the sale of his house in Newton, Massachusetts. He’d intended to buy a house with it, but he’d just committed a healthy portion of it to his new business.
He was now the owner of a piece of downtown Tilley. As they’d gotten a handle on the crime problem, he’d approached Hudson Voiles with a proposal. He was willing to buy one of the downtown buildings if the city would agree to exempt him from property and sales taxes for five years, wave the fees he would normally be expected to pay when starting a business, expedite any city permits and inspections he needed, and repair the bucked and broken sidewalk in front of his building
Hud had called a special meeting of the town council that evening and the proposal was immediately and unanimously approved.
With the council’s assurances in his hip pocket, he’d gone shopping. He’d set his sights on one particular location, the building on the corner of Kellogg and Main. It had been a hardware store, long ago, and still had a few remaining ties to its past. It was one of the smaller buildings, and one of only three single stories, but it included a large lot behind it, and the corner location gave it more windows than most.
The city located the owner for him, he’d made an offer, and after some negotiating, a deal was struck. The business loan he’d just taken out to refurbish the structure should be in his account in the next few days, and now he was on his way.
“Want to see?” he asked as he took her arm and escorted her outside.
“I’d love too!”
It was a fine, crisp, sunny autumn afternoon. Maggie was wearing a sweater, but he was gloriously comfortable in only a long sleeve shirt.
He’d told her of his plans, and though she was clearly a bit doubtful, she’d nevertheless been supportive as he tried to bring his ideas together.
“I haven’t seen the place since it’s been cleaned out.”
“It’s quite a mess inside, but I got it so cheap I can afford to spend a little fixing it up.”
He pulled to a stop at the curb and they got out. He couldn’t believe how hard his heart was pounding. That’s just what he needed, a heart attack less than a half hour after taking out a $100,000 loan. He opened the padlock screwed into the door and shouldered it open, the door dragging and groaning in protest.
The interior was thick with dust and co
bwebs. There were some obvious leaks in the roof that would have to be repaired, the plumbing and wiring would have to be upgraded, not to mention a general refit to make the space useable, but the place had character in spades with brick walls, hardwood floors, intricate molding and a high, antique tin, ceiling.
“Doesn’t look like much, does it?” she said as she looked around.
“Not yet. But imagine it full of polished wood and brass, with cozy booths along that wall, and tables here by the windows, and the bar along the wall there,” he said, pointing to the elaborate wood counter that he intended to rework into a bar.
She nodded. “Okay. I guess. I’ve never seen an Irish pub before, so I don’t know what to imagine.”
“I showed you pictures.”
“Yeah, and they looked great, but it’s hard to imagine this place from pictures.”
“It’s going to look terrific. Small and cozy, like a real pub, not one of those big, loud, tourist trap places.”
She looked around again. “If you say so. Looks like a lot of work. You sure it’ll be open in time?”
He’d been right in his guess. Juno didn’t pull any time. The DA had offered him a deal, a 10,000 dollar fine, 250,000 dollars in damages to Dynamic Properties, and five years’ probation for a guilty plea to the charge of conspiracy to commit arson. Juno had leapt at the chance. He’d had to liquidate his company, but he’d apparently managed to scrape together the cash.
Barns had put the sudden influx of cash to good use. With the Mills project well underway, he wanted to have The Loch and Castle, the name he’d picked out for his pub, open before Barns started renting. That gave him nine or ten months to get an architect, hire a contractor, and get the place finished. He’d talked to a contractor before he made an offer on the building. He’d given him a ball park cost, and a four to six month estimate to complete all the work, based on Sean’s description. If they didn’t run into any snags in either construction or getting his beverage license, he should be open and operating three or four months before The Mills at Brunswick began renting.
That would give him time to hire someone to run the place and to work out any kinks. He knew exactly nothing about running an Irish pub, but the Brunswick area desperately needed more upscale places in addition to Mangia, and he would have no direct competition closer than Raleigh. If one of the residents of Barns’ project had a hankering to visit an Irish pub, he was the only game in town.
“I think so. Should be if we don’t run into any major problems.”
She looked around and shook her head again. “Well, I can help you sweep the place out.”
He grinned. “Oh, no. I need your help getting that grease trap thing and whatever else I need to do, done.”
“You own the lot behind the building too, right?”
“Yeah. That’s going to be my parking lot.”
She nodded. “Part of it is going to be your grease trap too.”
“And you’ll tell me what I need, right?”
She grinned. “Don’t you trust me.”
“I trust you, but when you smile at me like that, you make me nervous.”
“No reason to be nervous. I’ll treat you like anyone else who wants to hook onto the system… mostly.”
“Now I’m really nervous,” he teased.
“Don’t be. You’re sleeping with the person who approves all that stuff. You treat her right and you won’t have anything to worry about.”
“I guess I’d better treat her right then, huh?”
“Yeah. Of course, that shouldn’t be too hard. You’ve been doing a pretty good job so far.”
“I have?”
She smiled up at him. “Oh, yeah.”
“I guess I better keep it up then.”
“I guess you’d better,” she whispered as his lips slowly closed over hers.
Contents
Title Page
Begin Reading
Acknowledgments
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Epilogue
Contents
Also by T. Alan Codder
Copyrights
Also by T. Alan Codder
Deadly Waters
This book is an original edition and has never been previously published.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events, are the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or places, is purely coincidental.
Flashover
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2017 by T. Alan Codder
Cover art by LB Meyer
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without permission of the author
Flashover Page 29
