“I’m sure, Clay,” I said, squeezing his hand and smiling.
But I wasn’t so sure about Jackson. Who was he?
As we walked away, I thought Jackson might be worth checking out. I glanced back for another look, only to see him frowning, pacing, and talking on his cell. Hmmm…
Chapter 15
Timing Is Everything
We decided we’d better hustle over to the rally before dark and grab a bite to eat. I knew Clay and Crystal were getting antsy about hanging out at the farm and agreed. They wanted to ride their Harleys. But we had a problem.
Now, how do I delicately describe this?
It was group sticker shock as we all took in the sight before us. We were staring at Martha, who was wearing a leather jacket and her leather chaps, with one exception. Instead of staring at her jean-clad rear underneath them, we were staring at her rear-end in the flesh.
Hazel was adamant. “No! Her derrière is hanging out!”
“So what’s the big deal?” Martha asked, smirking.
“I refuse to ride with my body rubbing your posterior!”
Betty tried to play diplomat. “It’s only twenty minutes.”
“I want something between us!” Hazel ordered.
“Why not ride one of the horses?” laughed Martha.
“I could retort, but I’m too much of a lady,” said Hazel.
I stepped in appealing to Hazel’s generous spirit.
“Now, Hazel, how about a blanket? It would hide what you find most offensive about her outfit. It certainly doesn’t mean you have to walk around with her once we get there. You and Betty could go off on your own. Plus it’ll be dark soon. Who would notice?”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “Only if Betty switches later.”
I looked at Betty, who gritted her teeth, smiling. “Sure.”
The twenty-minute ride turned into forty-five due to the crowds, but it was worth it. The carnival-like atmosphere was something to see as we passed bikes already parked at Weirs Beach, while we searched for a place to park. We ended up finding a spot in a field. After getting off, Hazel smirked as Martha began scratching her skin vigorously.
Crystal turned Martha around. “It’s red.”
Martha was still scratching. “What is?”
Crystal started snickering. “Your ass.”
Martha whirled around to face Hazel, who was looking everywhere but at Martha, trying desperately not to laugh.
“Exactly what kind of blanket did you get?” she asked.
Hazel’s eyes darted back to Martha. “What? Oh, the blanket? Why I grabbed one of those old horse blankets.”
Martha went toe to toe with Hazel. “But they’re wool!”
“I know that!” said Hazel staring right back at her.
“I’m highly allergic to wool!” Martha tossed back.
“I know that. It serves you right for exposing yourself.”
Clay now stepped in to avoid an incident.
“Martha, why don’t I introduce you to a friend of mine who’s working one of the booths here. You’d like him.”
She turned to Clay, slightly interested. “Who?”
“He’s good-looking, but a few years younger than you.”
Chapter 16
Timely Distractions
Martha grinned. “I’m open to younger possibilities.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, but then had second thoughts. Did Clay make that up about the guy to distract Martha, or did he actually know someone who was here for the rally?
“Who is this guy? You didn’t mention you knew anyone who was going to be here.”
Clay smiled. “You didn’t ask.”
You see what I have to put up with? I loved it.
He was slyer than a fox whenever I tried to figure out what he was up to. Now interested myself, I decided to call his bluff. “Great! Let’s all go find him, shall we?”
As a group, we hardly got a side-glance. Of course, the dress code was obviously limitless with more emphasis on the less as far as some of the women went. Hazel and Betty spent most of the time with their mouths hanging open.
I laughed. We blended in more than I thought we would. Nobody gave us the time of day, Martha included.
Lingering at a booth to check out leather bracelets, I told the others I’d catch up. While being gently jostled back and forth with the crowds moving past me, every once in a while I gave my fanny pack, now perched in the front, a pat to make sure my ID and money were still secure.
I felt a shove and dropped one bracelet. When I bent to retrieve it, I was shoved again, but this time almost fell to the ground. A set of hands grabbed me in time to steady me. As we both stood back up, his eyes locked onto mine. It was Jackson, but not the one I’d met earlier that day.
He was all in black leather from head to toe, including a black leather bandanna with the blonde ponytail hanging out in the back. Then I noticed a small ruby stud in his right earlobe. He seemed more at home here than he did playing the role of Mr. Cattle Farmer. I stepped back cautiously.
“Well, isn’t this a coincidence! You’ve been saved again,” Jackson said, smiling those pearly whites of his.
I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the hit.
Accidental? Was he that rider I noticed two days ago?
At this point, I didn’t think it mattered, so I grabbed the advantage to find out what I could. “So you have. Thanks.”
I looked down at his hands. He sported a blood red ring that seemed unusual for a farmer to wear, but then again, his whole outfit wasn’t usual farmer gear, either.
He looked all around us. “You here alone?”
I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly didn’t feel right standing there, especially after he had stepped closer and was now in my personal Sam zone again. “As a matter of fact, I was about to catch up to the others you met earlier.”
“Have you ever been to one of these rallies before?”
“No, this is my first. I have to tell you, it’s different.”
“How about I walk along until we catch up with them?”
Chapter 17
Why Not?
That offer was too tempting for me to pass up, warning light and all. Maybe I could learn a thing or two while we walked. My writer’s curiosity about this individual, who represented not a scintilla of the one I had talked to that afternoon, was more than my nosy persona could handle. I could do the walk-and-talk thing easily. We were in a crowd and there was safety in numbers. After a brief explanation of who I was and how I got there, I asked him about his background.
“Not much to tell. I bought the parcel from Robinson a few years ago when he complained it was becoming too much to handle. I guess that was when he knew something wasn’t right and his mental capacity was wearing down. Not believing my luck, I jumped on his unexpected offer. It was something I always wanted to try, raise some cattle.”
“I never would have guessed. How’d you meet him?”
“From working at the Smith property.”
I turned to look at him. “That was convenient.”
“Sure was. Plus, he said I could pay it off in time. I went for it. Of course, Sarah was upset, losing an extra set of hands like that, but I had to look out for myself. She can get sort of overbearing, if you know what I mean.”
I smiled. “I had a dose of that when she first called me.”
“I bet that call was interesting.”
So I explained about the bizarre phone call from her and my subsequent visit to inspect her missing woods. Of course, he probably already knew, but he laughed anyway.
“Initially, the whole thing sounded ridiculous, but it wasn’t. Have you had any problems at your place?”
“No, not yet. Of course with cattle around, and my whole property being fenced off, I wouldn’t be an easy hit.”
“I guess so.”
“By the way, what made your horse jump the fence and take off like that?”
“A pickup truck came way t
oo close to my horse and she panicked, I guess.”
“Where were the others you were riding with?”
“Some were far in front and some had lagged behind.”
I stopped walking and thought about what I just said. Why did that truck skim by me, and my horse in particular, and not the others? I started getting a prickly feeling.
Jackson touched my arm and I jumped.
“You okay?”
“…Huh? Yes, I’m fine,” I said, and resumed walking.
He saw the concern on my face and said, “You know you have to be careful nowadays. People text and talk on the phone like crazy and aren’t watching where they are driving or who else is on the road with them.”
I thought about that. “You’re probably right.”
But what if he was wrong and I was some sort of target?
Chapter 18
More Than A Stamp Of Approval
I was still trying to brush off those thoughts when someone called out to me. I looked up to catch Hazel and Betty rushing toward me, annoyance written all over their faces. I turned to Jackson. “I sense bad news in the air.”
“How are you so sure?”
“It’s women’s intuition. We differentiate between the look and a look. I’ve learned interpretation is everything.”
Hazel grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward a particular booth. In seconds, Betty had my other arm and was doing the same thing.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“You want to see? Well, have a good look,” said Betty.
“I think we should pick out a home for her,” said Hazel.
I was confused. “What home? Whatever for?”
They stopped moving at the entrance of a booth. I stood there, dumbfounded. Clay was there casually talking to this leather-clad biker guy with a white-trimmed beard. Some kind of needle contraption hovered nearby someone’s rear. I recoiled when I realized it was Martha’s. She was laying there still wearing her leather chaps.
“He’s tattooed a butterfly!” said an upset Hazel.
Crystal grinned at my approach. “Isn’t this great?”
“What do you mean great?” I asked. “This is Martha’s body we’re talking about here.”
“It’s the same spot where I got mine,” Crystal said.
I didn’t have a retort to that one, so I turned to Clay. Maybe he would understand, but he threw his hands up.
“Martha is one determined woman, saying she always wanted one and no one was going to stop her. I figured since she is well beyond the age of twenty-one, who was I to object? By the way, this is Giorgio, the tattoo master.”
“Is this the guy you wanted Martha to meet?”
Clay smiled. “The one and only.”
Giorgio extended his hand to me. “Ciao, baby.”
I tentatively took it. “It’s a pleasure…I think.”
“I won’t be much longer,” he said, chuckling.
The only one left who I had not addressed was Martha.
“What possessed you?”
“Have you ever wanted to do something so ridiculous and out of the norm, but were afraid to take the risk? My whole life I have lived the way others expected me to and have missed out on so much. Well, if not now, when?”
I smiled at my crazy friend. “…Couldn’t agree more.”
Hazel and Betty tried to object, but I held up my hand.
“I know Martha drives you crazy. Be it good or bad, this is her choice. I’m not going to judge her reasoning.”
Only my own.
“Any objections?” Nobody said zip.
Chapter 19
Nibbling On The Truth, One Bite At A Time
I had forgotten about Jackson standing there, watching this whole thing. I was sure he thought we were all a bunch of nuts running loose in the live free or die state, a likely spot-on assessment.
I tried to imagine how all this would play out in my new novel since I was currently under a deadline once again. I needed to get the visuals just right. So the story wasn’t playing out exactly as I pictured it would. So what? I could always tweak it a little, here and there. Okay, a lot.
When Martha’s personal statement was permanently cast, and the process finished, I realized there were two individuals standing there that pretty much didn’t care for each other. They were sizing each other up in a not so friendly way. As far as I was concerned, there was no contest. Clay was the one.
I quickly grabbed Crystal as a distraction and told her all about the Harley that Jackson was riding. Well, that did it. She was a goner in Harley heaven as they slid easily into a conversation comparing bikes.
Then I turned my attention to more important matters, like how do I top watching someone’s ass being tattooed? I couldn’t, so I did the next best thing.
“How about we all go have a beer and some barbecue?”
In unison, we headed over to a barbecue tent, Jackson included. I just hoped I wouldn’t get heartburn. I forgot to mention that ciao baby, Giorgio, who Martha seemed attracted to, said he was taking a break and joining us, too.
After our second round of drinks, everyone chomped down on their barbecue, from pulled pork, ribs, and chicken to grilled corn on the cob.
Things seemed to settle into a nice camaraderie thing going on and eventually I relaxed. I was sitting in between Clay and Jackson, a sort of buffer zone between the two. I wanted to hear more about the properties, all three. I turned to Jackson. “What have you heard about Robinson’s property that Sally just bought?”
He stopped eating his ribs, wiped his hands and turned to me. “That was pure disappointment. Those relatives of Robinson’s were asking a ridiculous amount of money for that old decrepit property, way more than that developer was offering, which was a fair price.”
“So you were surprised when Sally and Tom stepped in to snatch it up like that?”
He took a swig a beer. “Yeah, it’s always these out-of-towners that are rolling in dough that leave the locals out in the cold.”
Was that an edge of bitterness?
I noticed he wasn’t smiling with that last statement and wondered what else was annoying him.
He was slightly buzzed. Good.
“You from around here?” I asked.
“No. I’m from Boston,” he blurted out, then stilled.
I felt a gentle nudge from Clay’s direction, and then he eyed me. We were both thinking the same thing, another Boston connection, just like Robinson’s relatives.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Chapter 20
Making Sense & Sensing Trouble
Over breakfast the next morning, I shared what Jackson said the night before. He’d been guarded after telling us he was originally from Boston. I speculated that I felt there might be a connection between Robinson’s family and him.
“The only catch is why would he possibly be interested in getting his hands on a property that Robinson’s family sold if he was connected to them? Why not hang onto it in the first place?”
“Maybe,” said Clay, “There are two separate motives going on here.”
“Like what?” Betty asked.
“Could be that he has no attachment to the Robinson family and it’s all a coincidence, the Boston angle, and…”
Martha jumped in. “He already knows the advantage in owning Robinson’s property and is pursuing it on his own.”
“Or,” Crystal added, “he is related to the relatives and knows something they don’t and is freelancing.”
“Why would he do that?” Betty asked.
“There has to be a money angle,” I said. “Always is.”
“Do you think Jackson could have been doing odd jobs for Robinson while he was alive, without letting on to Sarah while he was still working for her?” Hazel asked.
Martha eyed Hazel, surprised. “That was insightful.”
Betty added. “He might have seen or heard something while he was there. With it being sold from under him and curre
ntly being boarded up, he finally had the opportunity to do something covertly, but our arrival put a stop to his plans, especially now that Samantha is involved.”
I nodded with that possibility taking shape. “…And he didn’t expect Sarah to come running to me about her woods being stolen, which complicated things further and gave me a good reason to take a closer look at the neighborhood and Robinson’s house.”
“Which,” Clay added, “only goes to show you that on the other hand, all of us might be way off base on the whole thing in stringing together something that never was.”
“Yeah,” said Martha, “but it sounded real interesting when we all thought it up, didn’t it?”
I sat up. “Wait a minute!”
“What?” Clay asked.
“Sally mentioned the other night on the phone that her neighbors, the Smiths, were originally from Boston, too.”
Martha smiled. “Now that’s real convenient, isn’t it?”
I shook my head, changing my mind at the absurdity of the connections. “…No, that’s ridiculous! I think Clay might be right. We’re all making too much about a simple answer from a guy we’ve just met. We have turned into such a suspicious group. We might be overplaying this.”
Crystal hit the table. “But what if we’re not?”
Yes, there was always that.
Chapter 21
M Marks Their Spot
Clay drove to Boston in the old truck to see what he could drum up about Robinson’s relatives. Martha, Hazel and Betty were busy researching anything they could about Robinson and his background, which included the library. Crystal was looking at it from the real estate angle and headed off to the town hall to research public records.
Me? I decided to ask the other neighbors on the other side of Robinson’s property, which was across from Jackson’s property. I heard a well-off husband and wife lived there, who had done extensive renovations on an old New England clapboard home they intended for their retirement. They came from, you guessed it, Boston, and had been making improvements for a few years.
A Lethal Time (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 4) Page 4