The drama over, everyone turned their attention to dancing, drinking, and cards.
“West isn’t used to having someone tell him to take a hike,” Crum said. “I wouldn’t put it past him to do whatever he has to to make sure you don’t become his neighbor.”
“He’s a smart man. He needs to get hot on the phone and make an offer on the property. Problem solved.”
Fab and Mac wandered back over.
“Are you disappointed that there’s not a body in there, waiting to be transported?” I asked Fab.
“Raul approached me once about picking up bodies when they had an unreliable guy who called in all too frequently with some excuse or another.”
I remembered that guy; he was a flake. “And you answered, ‘Thanks for thinking of me, but no’?”
“I don’t know what I said, but it was no.” Fab wrinkled her nose.
“Uh oh, hope you’re ready to talk to the law,” Mac said. “You’re about to get an ‘it’s time to break it up’ speech.”
Fab and I turned as a cop car pulled up and parked. Kevin got out, his face not giving away a thing.
“Let’s try to be nice,” I said to Fab.
“You first.”
Kevin had me in his sights. Mac went and sat with the card players.
“Hello, Officer,” I said with enough sweetness that his lips quirked on the sides. “Would you like a burger and a soda?”
“You’re not allowed to bribe me while I’m duty.”
“Sucks for you, since the food’s good.”
“Give me a straight answer as to what’s going on and why you two are in the middle of it.” He turned and looked over his shoulder as Mac turned up the music. “Some of your friends don’t surprise me.”
“You know how you try on a hat, see how cute it is before you buy? That’s what I’m doing with this property—testing it out as a party place. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
Fab tried to disguise her laugh with a cough, but I knew her too well.
“Do the Vickers know you’ve appropriated their property and brought over your, hmm, friends to make complete asses of themselves? Not to mention a blight on the neighborhood? Police switchboard lit up when you arrived.”
“I’m in negotiations.”
“Sure.” Kevin snorted. “A number of these so-called friends, I met when they checked into The Cottages, and I gave them the speech—’A cop lives on the property, so you might not want to break any laws.’”
“I appreciate that.”
“I’m still waiting on the straight answer I’ve been asking for from the beginning.”
“As you know, the Vickers were burned out. I don’t suppose you’ve arrested the arsonist?” No answer could mean no or none of my business. Probably both. “Where was I? Straight story. The Vickers need to sell to move on to a comfortable retirement.”
Kevin stared as though trying to read my mind. Good luck to that. “I’m going to go talk to West, chief complainer when the Taco Bar was here, and let him know that as long as you abide by noise ordinances and keep your fun, or whatever you’re doing, on the property, there’s nothing I can do. I will suggest that he make an offer better than yours, which would solve his neighbor issues and keep him off the phone to dispatch.”
“That would be very sweet of you.”
“Don’t be saying that where anyone can hear.” Kevin’s humor leaked out once in a while. “I’m good friends with Mark and like his family a lot. When he shared your plan with me, he had doubts that you could pull it off. I reassured him you had nerve to spare and if you couldn’t get it done, no one could. If you do manage to pull it off, there will be lots of happy folks. Won’t that be nice?”
“So you knew the whole time what we’re doing here?”
“Just wanted to be sure.” Kevin grinned.
“Over your right shoulder,” Fab whispered.
Not sure how West knew that law enforcement had arrived, but here he was. Kevin intercepted him, and the two men talked.
I waved to Mac, who came running. “Could you get Kevin a to-go bag? Reinforce our good standing. Or yours anyway.”
“Already done.”
“That’s why you’re the best.” I smiled at her.
Chapter Thirty
It turned out to be a long week of sitting at the property day after day, the only goal to annoy West. I was ready to give it up and accept defeat, as much as I hated that idea. Fab had gotten called on a couple of minor jobs for Gunz and took Didier as backup.
The neighbors got into the spirit and stopped by to partake of food and drink, and a number of them joined in the dancing and games. Crum managed to keep the bus arriving at regular intervals with an assortment of odd folks—a number of whom I’d never met before. Others I recognized as regulars at Jake’s. I fished for information on Rick Pierce from those that showed, and all pled ignorance. One man pulled me aside and warned, “It’s best to not ask questions when someone is murdered. Especially when there are no suspects.” He nodded and expected the same from me. It was good advice, and I didn’t ask anyone else after that.
On more than one occasion, West was seen standing on his property, glaring at anyone who glanced his way. The second day, he lurked around with a camera and filmed the comings and goings. It set off Crum, who wanted to confront him, but I managed to talk him down, reminding him, “We don’t want any trouble.” It was then I began to think that my idea wasn’t going to work.
On the fifth day, about to be the last, I arrived late to find that Crum and West had squared off and several people were gathered around, hooting and hollering. I got out of my car and dashed over. Crum was spitting mad, his right eye swelling up.
“You hit an old man?” I shrieked at West, stepping closer to Crum and peering up into his face.
“He hit me first. I had to defend myself.”
“You lying turd.” Crum cut around me, about to advance on the man.
I grabbed his arm and tugged him to a halt.
“I’m calling the cops,” West growled.
Crum straightened to his full height, nose in the air like the man let off a fierce smell that was atrocious, his condescending stare firmly in place. I didn’t appreciate it when that was leveled at me, but was enjoying it in this moment. “You go right ahead. The only person going to jail is you. You want to know why, asshat? I’ve got proof you hit me first. After you get out of jail for assault and battery, I’ll sue your socks off. It will please me to see a ‘For Sale’ sign go up on your house to pay the judgment. You can bet I’ll take you for all you’re worth for attacking an old man.”
West was on the fence as to whether he believed Crum or not, looking around suspiciously. “What proof?”
“You were recorded.” Crum pointed to the back window of the bus as a cop car breezed around a corner and came to a stop. “If that’s not enough, there were witnesses, dimwit. It’ll be interesting to see what comes out of that dumb mouth of yours when that cop gets to us. I’m not one to mix it up with the cops, so unless you lie, I’m fine with brushing it under the bus, so to speak.” He laughed, a squeaky sound suggesting he didn’t do it often.
Kevin strode up, irritation written on his face as examined Crum. “What the hell happened?”
Crum turned to West, who said, “We were fooling around, and it got a little out of hand. We’re both okay, aren’t we, pal?” He clapped Crum on the back.
“What he said,” Crum told Kevin, barely making eye contact.
“Yeah, sure. If that’s the story both of you are going with, then that makes my job easier. Know this—if I have to come back out, I’ll arrest you both.” Kevin motioned to Crum to follow him, and to West, he said, “Stick around.” He and Crum walked over to the bus and had a brief conversation. When they finished, Crum was about to join his friends, but I motioned to him. Kevin walked over to West. Another conversation I couldn’t hear.
“I’m sorry. Do you need a doctor? I know one that makes house calls.”
Crum shook his head. “The conversation was heated, mostly West bellowing what a-wipes we all are. Didn’t see his fist until it was too late.”
“This is where I throw in the towel and admit this little idea of mine isn’t going to work,” I said.
“Hold your shorts, girlie. Once copper leaves, I’m going to have a quick conversation with West. I’ll stand back this time, make sure there’s plenty of space, and offer him some good advice. Give him a day or two to ruminate on my words of wisdom, and he’ll want to be done with us, if he doesn’t already. I’ll throw in the advice to offer double whatever the asking price is, since it’s cheaper than getting his behind sued off by an esteemed college professor that’s old enough to be his father.”
“It’s so nice of you to want to confront him one more time, but I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Like I said, I’m standing back. Besides, if it works, I want more favors to salt away.”
It had surprised me, when I offered to pay him for his time, that instead, he wanted favors. He planned to hoard them and use them in case I threatened to kick his butt to the curb again.
“Here comes Kevin.” Crum practically sprinted off.
Kevin beeline straight for me. “You know they’re both lying.”
“I wasn’t here when it happened, and I heard the same version of events that you did.”
“I reminded West that he once wanted to buy the property and he should follow through—that way, he could control the traffic. Then, the next time a grease wagon shows up, it can be gotten rid of in short order.”
“Was he receptive to your suggestion?”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Kevin glanced over the property.
“You’ll be happy to know that I’m only giving this gig one more day.”
Kevin nodded and waved as he walked over to one of the tables and grabbed a soda before going back to his car.
As soon as he rounded the corner, Crum headed toward West’s property.
I ran up alongside him, and he stopped. “If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m calling the cops again.”
“Calm your curls; I’m only going as far as his gate. I’ll ask him nicely to come out for a short talk. You can watch everything go down.”
My offer of five minutes was generous. Once West got to the gate, he stayed on his side, and the two spoke through the wrought iron. The conversation lasted all of two minutes.
When it was finished, Crum walked back over to where I was standing. “I told him I didn’t want to live here with my wife but didn’t know how to tell my little darlin’.”
I wanted to laugh but bit it back.
“That would be you, in case you’ve forgotten,” Crum continued. “The only way to prevent that was if he put in an offer that the Vickers couldn’t turn down. As far as I was concerned, we could keep it between the two of us. My honey would never have to know.”
“How did that go over?”
“Not a word. West nodded and walked off.”
“Another day, and we’re calling it quits.”
“Patience, chickadee.” Crum patted my shoulder and went back to his friends. I hopped on the bus and got out my laptop for a little work.
* * *
A few hours later, I got a call from Mark, the Vickers’ grandson—West had made an offer with the condition that the property be vacated immediately. He requested anonymity. Under no circumstances was his name to be mentioned, as he didn’t want any trouble. Mark didn’t disclose the specifics about the offer, but did say that his grandparents were ecstatic.
I hung up, gave brief thought to vaulting off the steps of the bus, and laughed at myself. I jumped sedately to the ground and attempted a whistle that went nowhere. I yelled, “Crum,” waved him over, and told him about the call.
“About time.” He laughed. “I’m ready to pack in the fun and take it back to The Cottages. My ladies have been complaining; they miss their stretching classes.”
I reminded myself no grumbling and would go so far as to ignore the near-nudity for a few days, then sic Mac on him. “If West ever bothers you, let me know; I’ll have someone talk to him about manners.”
His hearty laugh conveyed that he liked the idea.
Chapter Thirty-One
I had the foresight to tell Fab I was taking the morning off and kicking up my feet. Instead, what I really had planned was to sneak off for a morning of shopping—hit up a few of the local shops and see what they had new in beachy items. I’d confided my plans to Creole the previous night. He wasn’t happy, reminding me that the murderer of Rick Pierce hadn’t been apprehended. I promised that I would stay in the Cove and wouldn’t venture very far down the highway in either direction. I mentioned at least six times how much Fab hated some of these stores. He gave in easily enough, laughed it off, and extracted a promise that I’d call if anything out of the ordinary caught my attention. That would be an easy promise to keep—I’d get hot on the phone at the first sign of trouble.
I dressed casually and comfortably for the day, choosing a cotton skirt, t-shirt, and a pair of designer wedge flip-flops I’d scored on a deal. For those that thought they weren’t “real” shoes, tough; they were, and they were comfortable. If I lucked into a good find, I’d bring another pair home today.
Creole, in jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, scooped me up and twirled me around, giving me a big kiss and setting me back on my feet. “You know how much I love you?”
It was the sheepish grin that had me doing a double take. “You know I feel the same way about you. Did you forget to make breakfast or something?”
“You know,” he teasingly admonished, “we should get into the habit of having breakfast together every morning. Not just a quick cup of coffee.”
“Are you wanting me to start drinking that green muck you like to suck down to get your day started?” I imitated a hairball noise that had Jazz looking up from the end of the bed; neither he nor Creole were impressed.
Creole hooked his arm around me, and we headed towards the kitchen. I skidded to a stop when I saw Mother and Fab sitting at the island. I turned and looked up at Creole, lowering my voice to say, “I knew you were up to something.”
He cut me off with a kiss. “You’re going to have a great time. If not, one word from you, and I’ll deal with the two culprits, and so you know, they’ve been warned.”
I wished I’d been there when Creole strong-armed Fab. I turned and gushed, “This is a fun surprise.” I almost laughed at Fab’s eyeroll. I waltzed over and hugged Mother, who also caught the sarcasm and remained amused. When I spotted the bakery box, I licked my lips. “Yum. It’s been too long.”
The front door opened, and Didier came in. “I got the text about breakfast, and here I am.” He crossed the room and stood next to Fab.
Creole made coffee for everyone.
We tabled talk about our plans for the day until after we’d eaten; I was certain everyone knew but me. We filled our plates, sat around the island, and ate as Mother regaled us with stories about Mila and Logan.
“I know you three have a busy day planned, so Didier and I will clean up,” Creole said.
“Whatever you think you have planned here won’t go as smoothly as you’d like.” I raised up on tiptoes and kissed him. I turned away, linked my arm in Mother’s, and with the other grabbed my purse and headed out to the car.
Fab drove out to the highway and turned north.
I scooted forward in my seat and asked, “Didn’t Creole tell you this was a local trip?”
“That didn’t sound like as much fun as what I have planned.”
“We’re going to have the best time.” Mother nodded at me to agree with Fab.
“Maybe. Depending on what the Queen of Shopping has planned.”
Mother grinned and shook her finger at me.
“You don’t need to reconfigure your entire plan—toss in one beach store and yummy food, and I’ll be happy. Then you
won’t have to answer to Creole for not holding up your end of the bargain.” Whatever that was, but I’d find out later.
“I promise fun,” Fab said. “Or we’ll just have to have a redo.”
She pulled into the gas station we used most often, as Fab and I liked the old guy who owned it. It was one of the few independent ones left. Just as she pulled up to a pump and cut the engine, the young guy at the next pump over jumped a woman and started pummeling her, keeping it up even after she fell to the ground. Fab and I jumped out of the car and raced over.
“Knock it off,” Fab bellowed and stepped forward, her hand raised.
“What are you going to do?” I jerked on her shirt, which barely slowed her forward momentum.
She shrugged me off and leapt into the middle of the beat-down, wrestling the young man off the woman and flinging him to the ground. He rolled over, and it turned out he was a teenager.
Mother, hustled over to the woman, who’d stumbled to her feet and was gasping for breath, hunched over, her hands on her knees.
A number of people stood a few feet away and stared, but none offered any help.
Noting that Mother was talking to the woman and had the situation under control, I moved closer to Fab. The kid jumped to his feet, fuming with anger. He clenched his fist, and his arm swung back and shot forward. Fab curled her fingers around his fist and sent him flying. This time, he landed on his butt on the concrete. He yelled a couple of filthy names at Fab and bounded up, both fists in the air.
“Come at me and you’re going to lose, you little cretin,” Fab yelled and took a militant stance.
His anger apparently dulled his other senses, as he didn’t heed the warning and charged.
Ready for him, Fab kicked his feet out from under him, and once again, he landed in a heap. She put her foot in the middle of his chest. “Don’t get up,” she growled.
Someone had called 911, probably the clerk inside the store, who had her face pressed to the window. Two cop cars rolled into the gas station. It surprised me that Kevin didn’t get out of one of them. One cop headed to Fab and the kid and the other over to my mother and the woman. An ambulance rolled in and parked. The medics jumped out and headed over to the woman. Mother stepped back. It wasn’t long before they had the woman loaded onto a stretcher and pulled out.
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