“I, uh, I have no idea what you mean by what could happen,” Don finally spluttered out. “This is to help the people of Red Pine Falls. Besides, most of the town council are members, and I assure you, if you were a member we would do everything in our power to expedite any requests you may have.”
“And if I am not, then I don’t get expedited?” John asked quietly as he stared into Don’s eyes. “Or even worse, roadblocks start appearing. You do know that’s the definition of a protection racket, right, Don?”
Don’s eyebrows beetled over his brow as his face turned red. “Protection racket? My word! What are you trying to say?” Don said, raising his voice. “All we’re trying to do is give some gentle direction to the people of this town. There’s nothing wrong with that. Especially as a city councilman.”
The three men behind Don had become tense when Don raised his voice, but instead of acting uncertain and worried, they moved up behind the rotund man and returned John’s icy stare. Even if Don wasn’t aware of what was going on, these three men seemed to have other ideas.
“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Gabe said, stepping up next to John with his hands held out. Cheerio had also gotten up, standing silently by Gabe’s leg. He hadn’t started growling yet, but Abby could tell the dog was on high alert. Gabe still had on his ranger’s uniform, and while Don looked at him uncertainly, the three men behind him didn’t seem impressed.
“You need to step back, friend,” one of the men said in a low, dangerous voice. “Mr. Buckshire is just talking business. No one needs to get hurt.”
“This is my town, too, buddy!” Gabe said, bristling at the man’s attitude. “You don’t get to threaten people here.”
Abby looked helplessly back at Mr. Capshaw who had been standing and watching the proceedings. He had a calm look on his face, but Abby noticed he had his hand on the claw hammer on his work belt. He hadn’t said anything, but he looked ready if things became dangerous. Abby also heard Cheerio begin to growl low in his throat. It hadn’t gotten to the full thrum the dog was capable of, but it wouldn’t be long.
Just then, the door to the back room banged open, startling everyone and cutting off Cheerio’s growl. Reggie walked out carrying a heavy baseball bat, though instead of looking angry, he was caressing his hands along it as if he’d just found a new toy.
“John, you’ve got to see what I found down in the basement! The thing’s signed by someone, too. I wonder if it’s worth anything,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy and tapping it on the bar. “It’s solid too! I bet I could really bust some melons with it if I wanted.” He paused, looking over at Mr. Buckshire and the three men surrounding them. He kept smiling, but his eyes grew a bit flintier as he did so. “You boys wouldn’t happen to have any melons I could bust up? I know watermelons aren’t in season right now, but it can’t hurt to ask.”
Don Buckshire turned white as a sheet at seeing Reggie. Unlike John, Reggie wasn’t short or small in any dimension. In fact, he looked like a lineman for a football team, and the sight of him holding a baseball bat clearly sent a message. One that all four of the men got loud and clear.
“Uh, no, no we don’t have any melons,” Don stuttered. The men behind him had also begun to back off, giving Reggie wary looks as they did so. “In fact, I think we need to be going.” He turned to leave but looked back over his shoulder. “Please, Mr. Troutdale, just consider it? It’s for the community.”
John just nodded but didn’t answer. He hadn’t moved from his spot once the three men had moved up behind Don Buckshire. Abby was fairly certain, if the men had started something, it would have been John who finished it. Especially with Reggie, Gabe, Cheerio, and Mr. Capshaw involved. Still, she was very glad nothing had happened.
“Reggie?” Abby said, blowing out a huge breath she hadn’t known she had been holding. “I think we need those ciders now.”
Reggie grinned, laying the bat on the bar counter. “Coming right up, Mrs. Morgan. Coming right up. Just wanted to make sure the trash got taken out.”
Chapter 14
Abby was silent as she looked out of the window, watching the quaint houses as they passed by along the tree-lined lanes. There were plenty of signs of wear and tear, but Abby also saw a few houses that had painters or landscapers doing work. It put her in a confused mood. She should be happy that people were able to make repairs to their homes, but instead, it just made her angry, which in turn made her feel guilty.
Why shouldn’t people take advantage of this?
Because, she thought, answering her own internal question. The money is coming from the senator, and there’s no way that man was doing it out of the goodness of his heart. He had a plan and one that most likely involved something bad happening to her Grandmother. She didn’t know what it was, but she was starting to get an inkling.
Don Buckshire had started an Association that was making rules about how people could use the money to improve their property. One that also required a membership. She was sure as she was a day old that this was all about some sort of power move by Mr. Buckshire over the town.
“What the heck is that?” Gabe said, startling Abby out of her reverie. Abby turned, looking out of the front windshield and saw a large truck blocking the road to the bridge that led onto the Morgan’s small island. There was also a crane lifting off some heavy cement barriers and placing them across the mouth of the bridge itself. Several men in hard hats were directing the crane.
“Are they blocking our bridge?” Abby asked. Gabe and Abby exchanged glances before stepping out into the cold December afternoon and walking toward a man in a white hard hat who looked to be in charge.
“Excuse me!” Abby said, walking up to the man. “Just what do you think you’re doing? This is our bridge!”
The man turned and raised his eyebrow in surprise, then glanced back toward the bridge before looking back down at his clipboard. “Sorry, ma’am. Technically, that’s not true. The bridge was placed here by the county since it’s not on city property, and because of the damage it needs to be closed so we can do a proper evaluation.”
“Damage?” Abby said, confused. She looked around the man and didn’t see anything different about the bridge. Then she realized he was talking about the scrapes along the large post on the other side of the bridge when she’d gotten into a car accident. She had been looking off to the left at a large billow of smoke that had erupted from Mr. Wilberson’s shotgun and had clipped the post. “Are you talking about the post? That’s cosmetic at best! That post is easily a foot wide and probably didn’t even move.”
“Sorry ma’am,” the man said without looking up from his clipboard. “This decision is way above my pay grade. They told my boys and me to come out here and block it off so it can be evaluated properly.”
“So when is it going to be evaluated?” Abby asked angrily. “And in the meantime, how are we supposed to get to and from my house?”
The man looked up, shrugging. “Don’t know, ma’am. Here’s a card for my boss, though. I’m sure he’ll have the same answers I do, but he might be able to direct you to whoever can answer your questions.” He finished by pulling out a card with several names and job titles on it before handing it to her.
“Can we at least walk across it?” Abby asked as she took the card. She had to force herself not to crumple the piece of cardboard in her hand and throw it in the dirt, but she knew that wouldn’t do anyone any good, and she didn’t want to have to ask the workman for another.
“I think that’s okay,” the man said, then lowered his voice. “We’re supposed to be concerned with vehicles and their weight, though between you and me, this bridge doesn’t look like it’s remotely in trouble. I’m honestly not sure why we’re wasting our time out here.”
“I think I know,” Abby said, putting her hand on her hips and looking at the bridge for a moment. “Isn’t there any way you can just put those blocks out of the way so we can still use it? I mean, you and I both know it’s solid. This
is just someone trying to harass us.”
The man shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am. If my boss came out here and saw that, I’d be out of a job. I’m really sorry, but I have to follow orders. You’re going to have to go through proper channels to get this taken care of.”
Abby walked away a few feet and kicked at a rock, watching as it tumbled over the side of the road and made a plopping sound in the water. Suddenly, she felt strong hands wrap around her shoulders as Gabe came up behind her. A second later, she felt Cheerio’s wet nose nuzzle against her thigh.
“I’m so sorry, Abby,” Gabe said, pulling her against his chest. She closed her eyes and just existed in the moment, trying to let the anger wash over her, but she knew it wouldn’t last. This had to be the senator’s doing. Who else had the pull to get the county to do something like this?
“I love you,” she muttered softly, grateful for his presence.
“I love you, too,” Gabe whispered back. “Don’t worry; we’ll get this taken care of. We’ll start with this card, but if that doesn’t work, we’ll get the mayor and sheriff involved. I don’t think they’ll let this stand.”
Abby nodded, then turned toward the bridge and started walking across. “I suppose we should let Grandma and Mr. Wilberson know. I hope they don’t take it badly.”
“Me, too,” said Gabe as he followed Abby. On the other side, he picked up a stick and chucked it ahead of them, letting Cheerio tear off after it. Fetch was one of Cheerio’s very favorite games.
Chapter 15
Abby had never seen Mr. Wilberson angry before, but the man was pacing around in the front living room of the Morgan house in a rage. “They can’t do this! It’s unconstitutional!” he sputtered.
Hazel was sitting quietly in the sitting chair next to the coffee table while Gabe and Abby sat on the couch. They’d told the older couple what was happening down by the bridge, and it had taken every one of them to keep Mr. Wilberson from going to get his shotgun.
“Bill, you can’t just shoot at everyone that makes you upset,” Hazel said while working on one of her needlepoint projects. “This isn’t the wild west.”
“Well, it should be!” He snapped. “It would serve them right to have some buckshot in their britches. These young people and their stupid bureaucracies. Anyone can tell just by looking at the bridge that it’s sound. Why do they need to do this? It’s un-American!”
“You and I both know who’s behind it,” Hazel continued. “It’s not like we haven’t had to deal with the senator’s shenanigans before. You remember the year they audited me three times? Sheriff Pearson was not happy when you shot your black powder into the air when the state accountant came to the door that third time.”
Mr. Wilberson grinned and nodded. “I have never seen a man from a bureaucracy move that fast in my life. I almost took my shotgun to the Department of Motor Vehicles the next time I had to renew my license.” He paused, seeing the disapproving look on Hazel’s face and sniffed. “It would have been worth it.”
“No, Bill, it would not have been worth it,” Hazel said softly, finally looking up at the grizzled man. “Would you really have wanted to leave me alone on the island worrying about you?”
Bill returned her look before stopping his pacing and moving close to the chair she was sitting in. She held her hand out, and the old man took it in his wrinkled palms and held it. “No. No, you’re right, Hazel. It wouldn’t have been worth it.” He blew out a breath and frowned. “This is just so frustrating. What are we going to do to get groceries? Or lumber for my projects?”
“We can rent a boat from the marina,” Hazel said, still holding Bill’s hand. “Earl Hugyens might have a few for rent and it’s not like it’s far to get anywhere in Red Pine Falls. We can ask for help to haul groceries or anything else we need to the marina while we get this straightened out.”
“I’ll help, too, and I’m sure we can get some others to help as well when I’m busy up at the ranger’s lodge,” Gabe said.
“Who’s Earl Hugyens?” Abby asked.
“He owns the marina,” Hazel answered. “A nice and pleasant man. He’s owned it for about ten years since Carl Robs passed away. He’s been a good neighbor, even when Bill shoots off his shotgun. His daughters go to school over in Corvallis at the University.”
“We should go over there now while it’s still light,” Gabe said.
“I’ll go with you,” Mr. Wilberson said.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Hazel said, holding onto his hand tightly and not letting go. “In the mood you’re in, you’re likely to take a swing at one of those road crew. Let Gabe and Abby take care of it. You stay here with me and cool down.”
Mr. Wilberson glowered at Hazel, but she wasn’t having any of it, instead pursing her lips and shaking her head. “Your bark doesn’t work with me, Bill. Besides, there’s peach cobbler in the oven, and I’m fairly sure you want some of that instead of sitting out in your apartment.”
Mr. Wilberson sniffed and looked away, nodding as he admitted defeat. “Okay, I know when I’m beat. I’ll be out in the garage. Call if you need anything, dear,” he said before shuffling off toward the kitchen and the door that led outside.
As long as Abby had been here, the old man had preferred to come into the house via the kitchen door rather than the front. She didn’t know why, as both doors were equidistant from the garage where he spent most of his time. Abby figured he had a reason but had never been brave enough to ask what it was.
“Gabe?” Abby said to Gabe as he stood and moved toward the coat closet. “Can you get my jacket?”
He nodded, retrieving both of their coats. Abby leaned over, kissing Hazel on her cheek while she went back to working on her needlepoint. “Hurry back,” Hazel said. “I’ve got some roast in the crockpot as well as the cobbler.”
Abby nodded, then both she and Gabe left the house and walked down the short road to the bridge. It depressed Abby when she saw the concrete barricades and the orange and white striped wooden sign placed in front of the bridge saying, Road Closed.
Gabe squeezed her hand as they passed, sensing her melancholy mood. “What else do you think he has planned?” Gabe asked.
“I don’t know,” Abby said. “And how does it all tie in with the Foundation and now this Association that Mr. Buckshire created? You heard when he said most of the town council was on it. I’m sure the mayor isn’t aware of it, but what if most of the council is?”
“We can ask Mr. Hugyens,” Gabe said. “He’s part of the council, too. Maybe he’ll know more. Honestly, though, I can’t imagine him being part of something like this. He’s way too down to earth,” Gabe chuckled. “I think his daughters head up the local civil rights chapter at the university.”
“They sound like a kick in the pants,” Abby said, nodding. “So who else is on the council?”
Gabe paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before counting the names off on his fingers. “You’ve met Don Buckshire and Ruby Anderson. There’s also John Tillsdale who owns the antique shop. Francine Carthridge runs the feed store with her husband. You’ve met John Forsyth. Earl Hugyens we’re going to meet now, and there’s one more. Gini Moore. She’s a strange old bird who runs an art gallery on the edge of town, but you’d like her. She’s a riot. I think she’s in your Grandmother’s bridge group, too.”
“So, seven people besides the mayor?” Abby asked.
“Yep, and there’s Earl now,” Gabe said, waving at a black man with graying hair who was just coming out of a combination house and bait shop. The man waved back, but as they got closer, he didn’t look pleased to see them, and Abby began to wonder if Gabe had been wrong. Maybe Earl was in on the council’s plans.
Chapter 16
Earl held a grim look on his face as he watched them walk up. He didn’t say anything but only gestured for them to follow him as he moved back into the store portion of his home. Gabe and Abby followed him in, watching him warily as he moved behind the counter and then stopped
. Putting his hands on his face, he took a deep breath before looking at them once again. He didn’t look happy.
“Well, I was having a fantastic week,” Early said in his slow baritone. “People were renting berths here at the docks in record numbers. One fella even tried to rent out a couple of spots, so his baby didn’t have to get dinged by someone else’s boat. It was crazy and made no sense, but boy was I happy.”
Abby and Gabe exchanged glances as they stood and listened to Earl talk. They didn’t have enough information yet to know where he was going, but wherever it was, he was on a roll. However, Cheerio barked and wagged his tail as if encouraging the man to continue.
Earl laughed at Cheerio’s bark. “Yeah, that’s right boy. It’s been barking mad. That’s a good way to put it.” He picked up a treat from a bowl he had handy and held it up questioningly at Abby and Gabe. When Abby nodded that it was okay to continue, he flipped the treat over the counter at Cheerio who half-leaped up and caught it.
“So yeah, best week of my life,” Earl continued. “Anything over forty percent booking of berths is money in my pocket, and today I’m at one hundred percent. Then I walk outside today and see those trucks over by Hazel’s bridge blocking it from use.”
Earl picked up a rag he had beside his register, turned, and threw it across the room. It wasn’t heavy enough to damage anything, but it clearly made the man feel better as he took a deep breath and blew it out. “There were even a few who called after I was fully booked up, then it just stopped like clockwork. It’s like people were being told what to do, and I’ve heard the rumors about that Senator Clark guy. Now you are here and looking to rent a boat I bet, right? Except now, I have nothing. Everything is taken.”
“That’s exactly what happened,” Abby said quietly to the man’s back. Earl turned slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eye as Abby continued. “Mr. Hugyens, is there anything at all? We just need something to get large things back and forth to the island. Otherwise, we can walk across the bridge, even if we can’t drive across.”
Dead Reckoning and Murderous Intent, A Red Pine Falls Cozy Mystery (Red Pine Falls Cozy Mysteries Book 4) Page 6