by Becki Willis
“I figured if anyone knew where pretty boy was, it would be you,” Barry said to Genny with a surly sneer.
She refused to take the bait. “Nope. Not his keeper.”
“What was that all about last night? And who was that man bidding against Montgomery?”
“I don’t think he gave his name.”
“I bet it gave you a cheap thrill, didn’t it? Having men fight over you like that. Just like old times.” His tone was cold.
For whatever reasons existed in his bitter mind, the man had a vendetta against Genny and her best friend. It went back to high school, and had festered through the years like a poisonous growth on his soul. If he had a soul, Genny thought darkly.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how things were in high school,” he continued. “I know that beneath that pretty little candy wrapper, you’re still just a piece of white trash, no better than you ever were.”
In spite of herself, Genny gasped. “Did you-Did you write that message?”
“I don’t know what message you’re talking about. But believe me, no one needs it in writing.” His tone was too smug to be a lie. “We all know what kind of person you are. Last week’s episode of Home Again proved it. You’re sleeping with a man young enough to be your son! Have you no shame?”
Genny was too stunned to articulate an answer. Even Sharinda gasped at the sheer hatred in the banker’s hissed words.
“I warned Tommy, but he didn’t believe me. And look where that got him.” The cruel words were like a physical blow, delivered straight to her gut.
The blood drained from Genny’s face. Air escaped her lungs. She was too shocked to realize Cutter had shuffled into the room and taken the empty chair at her side. The faint scent of charred wood clung to him.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone,” he apologized. “I got here as soon as I could.”
He scooted his chair under the table as Sharinda welcomed him and Barry glared at him.
“Genny?” he asked.
She turned unseeing eyes his way, still in shock from Barry’s hateful outburst.
“Are you okay, darlin’?” he asked softly, voice low so the others could not hear. “What’s wrong?”
She shook his questions away, the movement jerky and slow. Her eyes stung, but she kept the tears at bay.
By the time the judging was over, Genny’s head felt ready to explode. She was in charge of taking the winning entries back to town, where they would be announced tonight before another concert, this one presented by the school band.
“Genny, we need to talk,” Cutter said, following her out to her car.
“I don’t have time, Cutter.”
“You’re mad at me, aren’t you? That’s why you’re brushing me off. Why you wouldn’t say a word to me in there.”
She rubbed a hand across her forehead and sighed. “Honestly, Cutter, my head hurts so bad right now I don’t have the energy to be mad.”
“Have you taken something for it?”
“Even if I had, sitting in a room for two hours with Barry Redmond is enough to give anyone a migraine.”
“What was that between you two?”
“Old history,” was all she said as she opened her car door. That old history still her head reeling and her heart aching.
“Genny darlin’, we have to talk. I need to explain about last night.” He held the door as she slid inside.
She took her time putting the portfolio on the seat beside her. When she looked up at him, her eyes did not quite meet his. “What is there to say, Cutter?”
“I didn’t buy that dinner for Callie Beth, and you know it!” His voice was defensive.
“The question is, does she know it?” Genny asked softly. Callie Beth seemed like a sweet girl. Other than the fact that the younger woman was in love with Cutter, Genny liked her.
“She does now.”
Genny glanced at the clock on her dash. “I’m sorry, Cutter, but I really do have to go.”
“There’s something else. Something I want you to hear from me.”
Genny sighed. She wasn’t sure how much more bad news she could take in one day.
“There’s a party I have to go to. A birthday party, for Callie Beth. It’s a surprise party at Montelongo’s, and it’s my job to get her there. I agreed to it weeks ago.”
“I understand.”
“You do?” He looked surprised. Or perhaps disappointed. Genny’s head hurt too badly to decipher the frown on his face.
“Yeah, of course. You and Callie Beth have been friends for years. Look, I have to go. They’re waiting on me.”
“You’re awfully pale, Genny. Maybe you shouldn’t drive.”
“I’m fine. Honestly.” She shut the door between them, cutting off any further protests.
Genny delivered the winning entries as promised, but she begged off from the concert, citing a headache. By the time she got home, she felt every one of her thirty-nine years. With a heart as heavy as her eyelids, she intended to nurse her wounds with a bottle of wine and an early bedtime.
She went in the house and changed into something more comfortable. Lounge pants and one of her favored sleep shirts fit the occasion. This one said ‘Some like it hot’, each letter cleverly shaped from clustered images of jalapeno peppers. The blood red material reflected her mood this evening.
The first glass of wine took the edge off her nerves. Genny cleared her mind and sipped the semi-sweet vintage, letting its mellow magic work its way through her veins.
By the second glass, her mood had improved. She grudgingly admitted that the day had not been a total loss. The Health Inspector could find nothing wrong with the café and gave them a perfect score. A new customer had come in and been so impressed with the food, he left a fifty-dollar tip. And there had been so sign of Pembrook today. If she left out thoughts of Barry Redmond and his very painful reference to the past, the painted message on her trash can, the erroneous complaint about her business, and a certain no-show fireman who had a birthday party to go to, she could almost pretend the day was decent. Almost.
A third glass of wine might sway her opinion. As Genny began pouring, a whiff of smoke assaulted her nose. Probably from that brush fire Sharinda mentioned, she thought. Nothing to be concerned with.
She took a sip to convince herself. She drew in a deep breath of the wine’s bouquet, trying to appreciate the delicate notes on her pallet. Smoke filled her nostrils.
Alarmed, Genny set the glass aside and made a cursory round through the house, looking for the source of the smell. There were no signs of fire, no evidence of smoke.
It must be my mind — or my nose — playing tricks on me.
She tried to recapture her buzz, but the mood was spoiled. Her muscles were tense again, right along with her mind.
A distinct pop came from the area of the backyard. Genny threw the door open and saw the flame, contained within a bucket just outside. The blaze licked upward in fruitless effort, no more than a flash fire that quickly burned itself out.
She recognized the bucket as the one overturned by her mysterious visitor.
She recognized the fire as another message.
Whether she liked it or not, it was time to call Brash.
***
Brash was unavailable, but sent Officer Perry in his stead.
The older man had been on the force since the dawn of time. That was what the rumors had always been, at least. Genesis remembered more than her share of run-ins with the grumpy old officer. He was the one to threaten her and Madison with jail time for cutting class and climbing the water tower their senior year. The girls reluctantly came down, but not before adding their own personal touch to the icon. The vivid pink had faded with time, but to this day, there were still traces of the curly lettering. Seniors ‘95.
Otis Perry had been the one to deliver the news of her parents’ death. A senseless wreck, just outside of town. Her father swerved to miss a deer, over-corrected, and spun into the path of an on-coming
eighteen-wheeler. If there was any consolation in a tragedy like that, it was knowing both of her parents were killed instantly, and that they died together.
It was Perry who gave Genny her first speeding ticket. Perry who lectured her on the dangers of underage drinking every chance that he got. Perry who harassed her and her friends when all they were doing was hanging out in the parking lot. Perry who discovered Tommy’s mangled body amid the wreckage of his bike.
Genny had an aversion to Officer Perry. Yet here he was on her doorstep. After a day such as this, it seemed only fitting.
The old officer eyed her skeptically, his baldhead beaded with sweat. Even with the calendar turned to October, the thermometer was too close to the century mark for comfort.
Judging by the snarl on his face and the sneer in his voice, he was no happier to see her than she was to see him. “Little Genny Baker, all growed up.”
Little Otis Baker, grown out, not up.
Genny wisely kept the observation to herself, even though it tickled the corners of her mouth. More than ever, he reminded her of Humpty Dumpty. She had never liked that nursery rhyme, either.
“So what’s the problem this time, little lady? Boyfriend get stuck crawling out the window again?”
Genny’s foot tapped out an angry tempo as she glared at him. “I told you, way back when; he wasn’t sneaking in or out. He was trying to fix the window and it fell on him.”
“I heard quite a few tall tales in my time, but that one was one of the best!” The officer slapped his knee as he hooted with laughter.
“As much fun as it to reminisce, I called you here for a different reason.” Her voice was dry. “Or shall I say, your boss sent you here for a different reason.” She cocked her head sideways, assessing him thoughtfully. “You’ve been on the force for decades. Why aren’t you the chief of police by now?”
The deep flush on Otis Perry’s face spread to the folds of flesh circling his baldhead. Genny was so fascinated by the infusion of color that she almost missed his sputtered reply.
“Why, you... I should have expected something like that from your fresh mouth!” He shook a chubby finger under her nose. “You never have learned to respect the law, have you, young lady? I knew you were nothing but trouble, even back in the day. It wasn’t enough to drag Joe and Bert’s granddaughter around with you. Now you’re corrupting our Fire Chief with your shenanigans!”
His words smarted, but Genny’s face remained impassive. Her tone was frosty. “If your personal views of my character will affect your professionalism in this matter, perhaps we should wait for Brash.”
Otis Perry straightened to his full five feet, four and three-quarter inches. To his credit, it was as if a mask slid over his face, soothing away the angry frown and the lines of disapproval. As he squared his shoulders and adjusted the belt at his ample waist, he cleared his throat. His entire demeanor changed. “You are absolutely right, Miss Baker. I am here on official business. My personal opinions will have no bearing on that fact.” He glanced over her shoulder, to the empty room behind her. “You reported a stalker?”
She hated that word. A sigh escaped her as she motioned the officer inside. “Yes. Someone has been harassing me with hang-up phone calls. Today I found a message on my dumpster. And just now, someone set a fire on my back porch.”
Alarmed, the officer’s eyes flew to the back door. “Do we need to call the Fire Department?”
“No, it’s already out. Just a flash-fire in a bucket, but someone set it on purpose.”
“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?”
It seemed impossible, but his tone was almost comforting. Genny waved him toward the sofa. “Have a seat. This may take a while.”
Chapter Ten
Madison knocked on the door to Genny’s office. It was mid-afternoon on Tuesday, and the dining room out front was quiet. The staff said Genesis was in her office, ordering more supplies for the busy week.
She rapped a second time. “Gen?”
“Come on in.”
Madison pushed the door open and saw her friend was on the phone. She offered to leave by use of hand signals, but Genny smiled and waved her forward. By the time Madison settled in the chair across from her desk, Genny was off the line.
“Hey, thanks for stopping by.”
“No problem. I had to take something to Blake at school anyway. That boy would forget his head if it wasn’t tied on,” Maddy claimed with an affectionate smile.
“He’s sixteen. Who has time for all the nonsense, like schoolwork and term papers?”
“Ah, so he inherited that attitude from you!” Maddy accused. Sometimes it was hard to remember they were not related by blood. They were closer than any sisters.
“Probably,” she admitted with an unabashed smile. “So how’s your new case going?”
“Slow. There are only so many leads you can track down on a missing recliner.”
“You checked the attic.”
“Of course.”
“Does she have a basement?”
“Yes, but it stands in about a foot of water, even during the summer. No one goes down there without a boat.”
Genny scrunched her face and admitted defeat. “Then I got nothing.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have much more.”
“Are you working any other cases?”
“Not really. Two weeks ago, I was as busy as a one-armed paperhanger, as Granny likes to say. Now I’m all caught up and twiddling my thumbs.”
Genny shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I might have a case for you,” she said quietly.
Madison smiled. “I’m going to have to start giving you a finder’s fee, aren’t I? You’re responsible for several of my clients. So what it is this time?” Even though she covered a wide range of services, her temporary agency –now pegged as professional services because it sounded more professional –was most often hired for low-end private investigator type work. “Who needs my help?”
“I do.”
“You?” she asked in surprise. “Wait. I thought we cleared up the waitressing angle.”
“I didn’t mean for food service. I want to hire you for something else.”
Madison glanced at the ledgers scattered across her desk. “Bookkeeping? I’ll help you for free, you know that.”
“No, not that, either.”
“Come on, Genny, this is like pulling teeth!” Maddy said in exasperation. “What are you talking about? What do you need help with?”
“You know those phone calls I mentioned?”
“The telemarketers?”
Genny nodded. “Yes. Only they aren’t from telemarketers.” She blew out a deep breath and voiced the truth of the matter. “Someone is stalking me. And I want to hire you to help me find them.”
Madison stared at her friend in astonishment. “Stalking you? What are you talking about? And why is this the first I’ve heard about it?”
Genny began explaining the recent chain of events. She was halfway through her story when the door to her office opened and Cutter burst inside.
He did not say hello. He did not acknowledge she had another visitor. His face was set in an angry scowl as he accosted her with his words. “Why didn’t you tell me about last night?”
Her mouth set in perturbed lines. Her voice dripped with cynicism. “And hello to you, too, Mr. Montgomery. Come right in. Don’t worry about interrupting the private conversation I was having with my friend. Please, yell at me all you want.”
“Don’t make it sound like I’m over-reacting,” he warned angrily. He shut the door behind him and strode across the room, where he had the grace to shoot Madison an apologetic look. “I’m sorry to burst in on you, Maddy, but did she tell you? Did she tell you someone came to her house last night and set a fire?”
Maddy gasped. They hadn’t gotten that far into the conversation. “A fire? Genny, what is he talking about? Is your house okay? What happened?”
“Yes, my house is fin
e. It was a flash fire in a bucket. Not nearly as dramatic as Cutter makes it sound.”
“And they left a message on your dumpster!” he continued to rant. “Before we talked! Why didn’t you tell me, Genny?”
“Who have you been talking to?” she asked irritably.
“Does it matter? Do you know how I felt, having to hear that from someone else? You promised me you would call me if anything else happened!” he thundered.
“You skipped your turnovers. I didn’t want to bother you.” She tried to sound flippant, but even she could hear the hurt in her voice.
Cutter stopped abruptly and blinked. Hard. He saw the uncertainty on her face. The vulnerability. “You thought I stood you up!” His tone was incredulous. “You thought I had second thoughts about kissing you and that I stood you up yesterday morning!”
Genny shot a look toward her friend. Surprise popped Madison’s mouth wide open.
“Okay, I am obviously way behind on this story,” Madison grumbled. “You have to start at the beginning. Tell. Me. Everything.”
Angry with the fireman for revealing the more intimate details of their budding relationship before she was ready to share, even with Maddy, Genesis gave him an icy look and acknowledged as little as possible. “Cutter may or may not have kissed me. Then he may or may not have stood me up at the first opportunity.”
Two could play the game. Cutter returned the glare with one of his own. He, too, directed his words to Maddy, but his eyes waged an ice war with the blond behind the desk. “And Cutter may or may not have been busy with a fire most all day yesterday. He may or may not have been paged out at four o’clock in the morning, an hour after he got home from helping someone else with a prowler.”
Genny refused to back down, even though a crack of doubt appeared in her icy reply. “Cutter may or may not have had the common decency to call or text his change of plans.”
It was like watching a game of ping-pong, but the ball was made of cold, hard ice. Madison rotated her head toward Cutter. It was his serve.
“Cutter may have left his phone in his truck. He may had intended to explain when he saw Genny in person at the art judging, except that Genny was giving him the cold shoulder and didn’t want to hear a word he had to say.”
