“Where have you been?” she snapped. “You’re late. Again. Poor Mamie’s upstairs running both the pro shop and the snack bar.”
She tossed in the dab of guilt to make him feel bad. Except Rory only stared wide-eyed at her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to quit, Casey.”
“What? What’re you talking about?”
“My dad’s making me—” He stopped, made a disgusted face, and started up again. “Mr. Bartow is making my dad make me quit.”
“Wait!” She threw up her palms. “Wait a minute. Start over at the beginning.”
“Someone saw me at the restaurant with you and Aidan on Saturday. Whoever it was told Mr. Bartow. Heck, it could have been half the town.”
“It doesn’t matter who,” Casey cried. “Keep going. What happened?”
“The mayor showed up at our house right after we got home from church. Only Dad and I were there. My mom and sister had gone to the grocery for some things my mom needed at the restaurant today.”
“What did Bartow say?” Casey interrupted impatiently.
“He said, ‘I need to talk to you in private, Jameson. Tell the kid to take a hike.’ They went into Dad’s home office, and I headed to the kitchen, but I snuck back and listened at the door.”
“Good man,” Casey said with a grin. “Then what?”
“Mr. Bartow told Dad I’ve been fraternizing with the enemy. ‘Those trouble-making Stuarts,’ he said.”
Casey made a disgusted sound.
“. . . and sticking my nose in the mayor’s business and in his bank account. I don’t know how he’d know that, Casey.”
She narrowed her eyes. “He’s probably gone and found himself a hacker for protection . . . and other nefarious things. Go on.”
“Mr. Bartow started yelling, ‘I won’t have it, Jameson. Your son quits that rundown course today, or I’ll take my business and my vendors somewhere I’ll be appreciated.”
“What’d your dad say?” Casey asked, though she had a pretty good idea.
“I had crouched down to listen at the crack in the door, and my mom walked in and spotted me. She hollered, ‘What are you doing, Rory? Eavesdropping?’ Mr. Bartow reached through the crack in the door, grabbed me by the neck, and dragged me into the office, then slammed the door. He got right up in my face and shook my neck hard. My dad tried to object, but the mayor ignored him.”
Rory reached up to rub the back of his neck, remembering.
“His face is what scared me, Casey. His eyes looked like they wanted me dead. He shook me again—hard—and said, ‘You stay out of my business and away from the Stuarts if you know what’s good for you.’ Then he stormed out. Dad didn’t even want me coming here today. Told me to call and quit, but I had to tell you in person.”
Rory gazed up at her, his eyes glistened with remorse. The kid may think he was all grown up as a senior in high school, but he didn’t look like an adult right now. He looked like a big scared kid. It was one thing for Bartow to throw his weight around and tell Rory he had to quit, but that bastard had scared the life out of Rory—by grabbing and shaking him—and Casey couldn’t forgive that.
“Don’t you worry, Rory,” she told him. “I’ll take care of this.”
“No, Casey!” he cried. “Stay away from Bartow! He’s bad news, and I could tell he hates you and Frank.”
“Of course he does. He wants our property, and we won’t sell.”
How dare Bartow call us troublemakers? I’m going to tell him what I think of him for picking on a high school boy.
“Please don’t go, Casey. I’ll just quit for a little while. When things cool down, I’ll come back and help. I’ll just make sure no one sees me.”
Casey hugged Rory hard. “No one has to live like that,” she told him. “Don’t you worry. I’ll fix this. Just stay here and fill in until I get back. And stay out of sight!”
Aidan likes to fix everything, but this I can fix.
She jogged to the parking lot. Two quick cell phone calls and she located Bartow at Maisey’s diner having a late lunch.
She had a three-mile drive to get her mad up, and Casey stormed in the front door of the diner and straight over to Bartow’s favorite table near the window. Two places were set, but only the bastard sat there, smirking as she strode over. Maybe his lunch partner no longer cared for Bartow’s company either.
“I want to talk to you, Mayor!”
“I’m having my lunch, as you can see.” Bartow smiled. His eyes did not. “Make an appointment with my secretary at City Hall.”
“The hell I will! Who do you think you are? And where do you get off telling my golf course staff they have to quit?” she retorted, not caring if the half-dozen remaining lunch patrons heard or not.
Bartow dabbed at his thin lips with his napkin. His beady unsmiling eyes glittered behind his black rimmed glasses. “What are you ranting about like a mad woman?”
Casey sucked in a breath and willed calm.
“You—” She pointed an irate finger. “—told my employee he had to quit.” The finger jabbed closer to Bartow’s pointy nose, and his eyes went to slits behind his glasses. “You had no right.”
In the midst of another quiet dab at his lips, Bartow’s fingers had gone still.
“Rory Jameson is also my employee.” He huffed the word my. “By virtue of the fact that I’m now a partner in Jameson’s restaurant.” Those hateful dark eyes sparked with glee.
No way would Cory let Bartow win this match without speaking her mind. She didn’t know the nuances of Jameson’s new and supposed legal partnership with the mayor, but she purposely raised her voice enough for the rest of the diner to hear. Let it spoil the rest of their lunch, and let them spread it all over town.
“You try to rule this town like a wicked king, but I will find out what you’re up to and who with.”
Bartow’s cool snapped, and he half rose out of his chair. “Be very careful of the snake pit you step in, Ms. Stuart. You will get bitten.”
The malice rolled off him in waves, and Casey didn’t care. This man had hurt innocent hard-working people, people she cared about.
“No, you be careful. You are the snake, and you are about to get caught.”
“Well, well, well. And who do we have spoiling our lunch, Archer?” Evelyn singsonged as she approached the table. She strode to within inches of Casey and looked down her nose. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Yes, Stepmother, dear,” Casey sassed with a glare.
“Why if it isn’t Miss I’m-better-than-everybody-else,” Evelyn said and took her seat at the mayor’s table.
“You’ve got that backwards. That was always you, Stepmother.”
Evelyn’s hand snapped out and grabbed Casey’s arm, her nails digging in to keep Casey in place. “Not until you ruined everything, you little witch.”
Casey had taken all the crap from Evelyn she was going to. She didn’t care who heard her now. She jerked her arm free, and red nail lines scored her flesh.
“The only thing that will be ruined is your husband’s corrupt game here in Cypress Key. If my father hadn’t died that night in the accident, he’d be mayor right now, not you!” she shouted at Bartow.
His beady eyes went coal black and glittered with menace, but Evelyn jumped in. “Dave was too weak to be mayor,” she sneered.
Bartow almost smiled, and Casey wanted to leap across the table and squeeze her fingers around his throat.
“That’s a lie! My father was twice the man your second husband is, or is he your third? We never knew.”
Evelyn gasped in outrage and flew to her feet.
“Maybe your daddy ran his car into that tree when he found out Evelyn wanted me instead of him,” Bartow said softly enough only C
asey and Evelyn could hear. Retribution for Casey’s very public faux pas.
“That’s a lie!” she cried. “How dare you?”
Bartow gave a negligent shrug.
“You’re just trying to throw up a smoke screen with your despicable claim, but I’m onto you. Rory works for me, and he stays. You try to rule this town with your corruption, but it won’t work.”
The bell over Maisey’s front door tinkled. Casey didn’t look. Didn’t care. She was on a roll. Her own years of hatred spilled over.
“You can’t bribe or buy everybody, Mayor. I’m going to get to the bottom of your defrauding innocent townsfolk out of their hard-earned money. I’m going to find out what your end game is and who you’re in cahoots with.”
Bartow’s glare could melt golf balls.
Casey knew she’d hit a sore spot but kept going. “I won’t stop until you and your partners are behind bars.”
“Why you little—” Evelyn reared a hand back to slap her, and Casey stuck her chin out. Let everyone in Maisey’s see her swing.
“Evelyn.” Bartow’s sharp bark froze his wife’s hand in her backswing.
Bartow’s gaze wasn’t on his wife. He smiled at a spot behind Casey, and she turned.
Three feet behind her stood Sheriff Sam Watson, arms crossed over his chest and working a toothpick around in his mouth.
“You got trouble here, Mayor?” he asked Bartow but never took his eyes off Casey.
“Why yes, Sheriff. I believe I do.”
~ ~ ~
Aidan drove Frank’s customized tool cart back to the maintenance shed, while Frank rumbled along behind him on the newly-rebuilt greens mower. The two had been at work since seven that morning, but the greens were mowed, irrigated, ball marks patched, and ready for the two-man golf match the following day. As the vehicles neared the cart barn, Aidan saw a head pop out and then disappear back into the barn. A few moments later, a crouched figure drove a cart out and into line for golfers, then flew back into the barn.
“What is that kid up to now?” Aidan muttered to himself.
He waved Frank on and turned off for the cart barn. Frank gave a nod and kept going. Aidan drove right up into the building.
Rory jumped in surprise and then yelled, “Thank God!”
“Why are you jumping around like a kangaroo?”
“Casey told me to stay out of sight. I wanted to come get you, but I had to stay and work the cart barn. Mamie’s all alone upstairs. I thought you’d be back here for lunch right after she left.” The kid looked flat-out panicked.
“After who left?”
“Casey!”
“Casey left?” Aidan asked.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Rory’s voice went up an octave. “She went after Bartow!”
“Calm down,” Aidan ordered, as he climbed out of the cart, “and start at the beginning.”
Rory took a deep breath and replayed his tale. Before the kid had finished, Aidan was already running for the parking lot, thankful he’d been the one to drive Frank’s truck that morning and still had the keys in his pocket.
“Go get Frank,” he hollered back at the boy. “Tell him too!”
He had no idea where Casey was. He hit speed dial for her cell. Two rings. Three. Four.
“Dammit, Casey, answer the phone!”
No answer.
She had gone to find Bartow, so he needed to find the mayor to find Casey. He scrolled through his contacts at the stop sign in front of the golf course, then dialed Deedee Bartow.
She picked up on the second ring. “Well hello, handsome,” she cooed.
“Where’s your father?” Aidan demanded.
“What? No hello?”
“I’m in a hurry.” Aidan tried not to yell. “Where is he?”
“Normally, I don’t know Dad’s schedule, but at breakfast, he told Evelyn he’d meet her for lunch at Maisey’s diner.”
“Thanks, Deedee.”
“Wait!”
Aidan didn’t. He clicked off and sped for the diner.
~ ~ ~
Watson grabbed Casey by the upper arm and started for the door. Her struggles knocked a few chairs aside, and the remaining patrons went wide-eyed.
“Let me go,” she huffed out.
Watson jerked her arm hard and pulled her up against him. “Keep it up and I’ll make resisting-arrest charges stick,” he growled in her ear and dragged her out the front door.
“I haven’t done anything,” she argued.
Her uncle’s old truck slid to the curb in front of the diner, tires screeching. The driver’s door slammed open.
“Let her go, Sheriff.”
Aidan Crosse stood like an angry avenging angel with the early afternoon sunlight glinting on the blond streaks in his too-long hair, and nothing had ever looked so wonderful to Casey in all her life.
“I don’t think so,” Watson snarled back and jerked her against him like a shield.
Aidan’s hands balled into fists.
Watson gave a smile worthy of a coiled cobra and pressed his cheek close to Casey’s. “I came in here to see the mayor, and Ms. Stuart here accosted him. I’m thinking of taking her in for questioning.” He marched her forward a couple steps.
“It’s me you want. Leave her alone,” Aidan said, his voice low and dangerous.
“No, Aidan!” Casey tried to pull free only to be jerked back against Watson.
“It’s easier to push a woman around, isn’t it, Sheriff?”
Watson’s eyes narrowed. “You better watch yourself, Crosse.”
“Or what?” Aidan stepped forward, and the sheriff stiffened.
“Or you’ll be the one on the inside of my jail, not her.”
“I doubt that,” Aidan retorted. “You may be big friends with the mayor, but I have friends too. I’ll take mine over yours any day.”
Watson frowned. “Yeah? Well they aren’t going to do her any good. I’ve decided I am taking her in for threatening a public official.”
“That’s a lie!” Belle Crawford’s voice rang out as she pushed through the front door. She swung her cane toward the sheriff.
“I’m tired of you throwing your weight around in this town, Sam Watson. You aren’t half the sheriff Blaise Ellis was. You’re nothing more than the mayor’s puppet.”
“You better shut your mouth, Belle Crawford,” Watson snarled. “The arm of the law has a long reach here in Cypress Key.”
“Not when Archer Bartow wants my land, it doesn’t.”
The sheriff glared. “I don’t care nothin’—”
“What’s going on out here?” Evelyn stalked through the open front door. “You causing more trouble, Casey Jo?”
“No, you and Archer are,” she shot back.
Bartow stepped out onto the landing behind his wife.
Belle turned to him. “I was just telling your sheriff to let my goddaughter go.”
Watson’s eyes shot to Bartow for direction, and the mayor cheeks flushed red at Belle’s slight, knowing the remaining diner patrons had heard every word.
“What are your intentions, Sheriff Watson?” Bartow ground out and cast a sullen look at Belle.
The sheriff looked uncertain. “I-I’m taking her in for questioning. She threatened you.”
Before Bartow could answer, Belle snapped, “You’re a liar! All Casey said was that she was going to get to the bottom of your . . .” She swung her cane out at Bartow, and he had to jerk back to avoid being smacked. “. . . corruption in this town.”
“Me too,” Aidan added. “Casey and me.”
“That was no threat,” Belle told the mayor. “That sounded like a promise.”
“How do you know?” Bartow re
torted. “You weren’t even there.”
Belle smiled nastily. “Oh yes, I was. Right at the swinging door to the kitchen, waiting while Maisey wrote me out a recipe.”
As though on cue, Maisey hustled out the still-open front door. “Miss Belle, you left so fast you forgot your recipe.”
Bartow and Evelyn shared twin looks of surprise.
Belle grinned at Maisey who gave Bartow a distinct, “Hmmph!” on her way back inside.
Belle tucked the index card Maisey had handed her into her jacket pocket and turned to the mayor. “Tell your puppet to let my goddaughter go and to leave her alone in the future—”
“Now, wait a minute,” Watson butt in.
“—or you won’t get one square inch of my land,” Belle finished as though Watson hadn’t spoken.
Bartow visibly seethed but finally cleared his throat. “Let her go, Sheriff Watson. Casey’s only guilty of a poor choice of words.”
Bartow grabbed Evelyn’s elbow, and they stomped past the sheriff and Aidan and out to the mayor’s gold Cadillac parked at the curb.
Watson released Casey and followed in the mayor’s wake. He slowed alongside Aidan and bumped his shoulder. “Better watch your back, Crosse. You’ve been poking your nose where it don’t belong.”
Aidan curled his upper lip. “Is that right?”
“Someone might cut it off,” Watson said and exhaled on a laugh, “to spite your pretty face.”
“That a threat?”
The sheriff scowled and started for the mayor’s car. “Take it any way you want.”
~ ~ ~
Belle Crawford’s living room had filled to overflowing and her guests spilled over into the adjacent dining room and kitchen area by the time Aidan and Casey arrived. The first guests to arrive were seated. The rest stood or leaned against walls, doors, or counters.
“Wow, this is a great turn out,” Casey whispered to Aidan.
“Only if they agree to our plan,” he responded grimly.
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