by Ink, India
Enid poured lemonade all the way around. “So, what is it that you want to ask us?”
I decided just to plunge into my questions. “You were both in last Friday to see Lisa for makeovers. I’m wondering if she said anything about her plans for the weekend to you. Anything about where she might be going, or who she might be seeing?”
Enid looked at Donna, and they gave each other that little frown that people do when they’re trying to remember something. After a moment, Enid shook her head. “Not offhand. What about you, Donna?”
Donna gave a little shrug. “Not really. She talked a lot about what she thought we should be using. It was very nice of her to take the time, but really, we just dropped in on the spur of the moment, and we already have our own beauty routines.”
“Almost thirty years, my routine’s been the same,” Enid said.
I repressed a smile. I had the feeling a lot of her routines had been the same for the past thirty years or perhaps longer. The Smith sisters were creatures of habit, and if you went shopping at the Shorelines Food Pavilion on Saturday mornings around nine AM, you’d always find them there buying their groceries for the week.
“Did something happen?” Donna asked.
“Lisa took off from the shop early on Saturday afternoon, and nobody’s seen her since. She’s probably fine, but she forgot to tell her sister where she was going, and we’re just checking into things; making sure that nothing happened.”
I glanced at the clock. Auntie would string me up if I didn’t get back to the shop pretty soon. “I hate to eat and run, but Auntie’s waiting for me. Lunch was lovely, and it was so good to see you again.” On the spur of the moment—and because I knew Auntie wouldn’t mind—I added, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving? We’re holding a big get-together at our house for friends. Dinner and the whole shebang. We’d love it if you could come.”
Enid looked at Donna, and they both nodded. “I think that would be delightful, my dear,” Enid said. “We haven’t formalized any plans yet, and dinner at Moss Rose Cottage sounds just perfect. Let us know what you want us to bring. We insist on helping out.”
I gave them each a hug, patted the cats, and then headed back to my car, where I flipped on my Jane’s Addiction CD. So much for any clues, but at least I’d been able to relax for a moment and enjoy a good meal with good friends.
As I hurried into the shop, Auntie looked over from where she was arguing with a UPS man. Apparently, he’d given us the wrong package, and she was pointing out that Venus Envy was not the same shop as McBride’s Auto Supplies. He winced as she shoved the box back in his arms and motioned me over. As I approached, the parcel deliveryman made a hasty retreat.
“I see you chewed him up one side and down the other,” I said.
“This is the third time in the past month he’s brought us the wrong package. I’m going to call and complain to his supervisors. He could at least read the labels before he brings them into the shop. I’m glad you’re back,” she said, not pausing between thoughts. “Did you find out anything?”
I quickly filled her in. “I’m waiting on two calls, and I’ll talk to Barb after work. Where is she, by the way?” I asked, glancing around the shop. “Did Dorian come to his senses and apologize?”
“I wish. Barbara’s in the back, doing laundry.” We had a washer and dryer in the back of the spa room where we washed the towels used for facials and haircuts. Auntie had decided that taking them home was just too much bother, and so she’d found a good used set, and we did laundry a couple of times a week.
As I was wondering whether I should go over to the bakery and talk to Dorian—even though Auntie said not to, it felt like somebody had to do something—there was a crash as a rock came hurtling through one of the front windows. A second immediately followed, and a third. Glass shards sprayed like shrapnel, covering the floor and shelves.
“Good Lord, what’s going on?” Auntie’s eyes went wide as I pulled her away from the windows.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Get everybody toward the back. I’ll call Kyle and then find out what’s going on.”
As Auntie hurriedly herded the startled customers toward the back of the shop, I pulled out my cell and punched in 911. I quickly told dispatch what was happening while watching to see that Auntie, Tawny, and Betsy managed to get everyone away from the front of the shop where they could be hurt by breaking glass. The officer taking my call told me that they’d send a cruiser right over.
No more rocks appeared, and I cautiously made my way across the glass-covered floor. Luckily, whoever decided to vandalize our store had only managed to hit one of the huge front windows. The other was still intact.
And then I saw him outside near my car, which now sported a broken windshield. Elliot leaned against a telephone pole, a drunken smirk on his face. As he idly tossed another rock toward my car, I lost it.
“You bastard! You’re going down!” I raced out of the store, heedless of the glass. When Elliot saw me barreling toward him, he seemed to sober up pretty fast. Or maybe he was just aware of how close to death he was in that moment, because he turned to run, weaving erratically down the street. But I was faster, and within less than a minute, I tackled him, bringing him down on the sidewalk. I straddled his chest as all my frustration came pouring out like so much venom.
“Your luck just ran out, you fucking bastard!”
I broke his nose with the first punch and blackened his eye with the second. Before I could land a third, Kyle pulled up in his cruiser and jumped out to haul me off of Elliot while his partner dragged the object of my fury to his feet. I struggled, trying to escape Kyle’s hold, and he finally shoved me against the wall that separated Venus Envy and the Baklava or Bust Bakery.
“Persia, get a grip!” His voice was harsh, but I could see a glint in his eyes that told me he was having trouble keeping a straight face. I struggled again, intending to give Elliot a kick in the balls as a parting shot, but Kyle managed to keep me from getting loose, and I finally relaxed.
“All right, all right, I’ll keep my hands to myself,” I said, gritting my teeth. Kyle let go, though he kept his eye on me as he did so. I turned to look at Elliot. While he had shattered our windows, I’d done a pretty good job of messing up his face, and I didn’t regret my actions in the least.
“Oh Persia, what did you do?” Auntie’s gasp came from the door of Venus Envy. The look on her face told me that she was having trouble making up her mind whether to yell at me or not.
“Now can I get my restraining order?” I asked Kyle, all the while keeping an eye on my nemesis.
His voice brusque, he said, “I don’t think you’ll have any problem with that now.”
Elliot squinted at me, and I could swear I still saw a hint of a leer behind the swelling. His nose was a brilliant blue with black streaks, as was the skin around his right eye. His left eye wasn’t looking too good, either, and I’d managed to split his lip. A little blood trickled down from the side.
“Man, that must hurt, huh, Elliot?” I asked, a snarky grin on my face. I couldn’t help it. Nope, not sorry in the least.
“I want to press charges against her for assault!” Elliot struggled feebly against the officer who had a hold on him, but his look was pure spite.
“What? You’re the one who brought this on yourself, you son of a bitch!” I was ready to fly at him again, but Kyle’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“Sure, I broke your windows, you whore, but you won’t listen to me. You won’t pay attention to me! I had to do something.” His whine grated on my nerves, and I wished now that I’d knocked him out.
Oh wonderful, Mr. Stalker had turned into a full-blown nut job.
Kyle frowned, then gave me a sideways glance. “Sorry, Persia, but you’re going to have to come with me.”
“What?” I backed away, astounded. “You’re arresting me? But he shattered our windows and damaged my car!”
“Yes, and we’re arresting him, too. But you s
houldn’t have hit him. Did he threaten you in any way? Was it self-defense?” Kyle added, and I knew he was trying to be helpful, offer me an out.
I stared at Elliot. As much as I wanted to lie and say yes, I couldn’t. Auntie had brought me up better than that. I sighed. “I need my purse.”
Kyle motioned to Auntie. “Miss Florence, can you get Persia’s purse for her?” He motioned to the other officer. “Call for another cruiser and take Elliot to the hospital after you read him his rights. And collect the stones that he threw through the window. Don’t mess up any fingerprints.”
I felt like I was back in junior high, getting into fights again. And by the look on Auntie’s face, I was due for a scolding like I hadn’t had since that time. I slung my purse over my shoulder, listened to Kyle as he read me my rights, and indicated I understood them.
As he put his hand on the top of my head to make sure I didn’t hit the top of the cruiser as I slid into the backseat, it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t handled matters the way I should have.
Chapter Eight
Having never had the pleasure of being arrested before, I was in for an experience. Oh yeah, the wrong seat in the patrol car, all right. I stared at the steel mesh that separated me from the front, thinking that, actually, with my temper, it was a miracle this hadn’t happened before.
On the way to the station house, Kyle kept his words short and clipped. “Persia, I can’t believe you did that. You bludgeoned the guy.”
“You know how much that creep’s gotten under my skin since last spring,” I said. “He’s damned lucky I didn’t break more than his nose.”
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, and you’re lucky you didn’t, either. As it is, you’re going to at least be paying some fines. The judge may take some pity on you, seeing how far Elliot’s pushed you over the past few months, but still . . . Persia, you gave him a black eye and broke his nose!”
“I would have busted his balls, too, if you hadn’t stopped me.” I sighed and stared out the window. Jail wasn’t my idea of the best way to spend the afternoon. And poor Auntie, she had to watch me get carted off. I leaned my head back, groaning slightly. “Damn it, it’s all Elliot’s fault. I take responsibility when I really screw up, but damn it, Kyle, that freakin’ idiot had to know I was going to snap one of these days. He pushed too hard this time. Our customers could have been hurt by that shattering glass.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, and I guarantee that you’ll get your restraining order, and Elliot will be doing some time. I’ll talk to the judge. I’m just glad you’ve been keeping a tight record on how much he’s been bothering you.” He pulled into the driveway leading to the station. As he helped me out of the car, my hands bound behind me in the metal cuffs, he chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” I glared at him.
“If I told you, you’d slap a harassment charge against me,” he said softly, and I knew he was thinking something I didn’t want to hear.
I grunted. “In the mood I’m in, I probably would. You just keep your thoughts on Amy, okay?”
“Whatever you say, Shifty. I’ve got to think of an appropriate nickname for you now. Maybe Sockeye, or Thinks With Fists?”
I growled but said nothing. He was enjoying this all too much. As we headed toward the door, I asked, “How long do you think I’ll be in?”
“If Miss Florence—or you—can post bail, then you should be home for supper.” He opened the door and escorted me in. The dispatcher’s expression went from blank to shocked. We knew each other, and she wasn’t used to seeing me in irons. Kyle led me to one of the desks in the main room, where he sat me down next to an officer I’d seen around but whose name I didn’t recognize.
“This is Officer Shanna Reynolds. Why don’t you tell her everything that happened.” He glanced at the woman. “After you’re done taking her statement, process her. Be gentle, though, she’s a friend of mine.” He grinned once more before heading back out the door.
“Well, damn,” I muttered under my breath. “Today’s pretty much been shot to hell.”
Officer Reynolds gave me a thin smile and put a piece of paper in the typewriter. As her fingers moved over the keys, I told her exactly what had happened. She didn’t say much, but as she tapped away, I heard my name and looked up. Winthrop Winchester was making his way among the desks. Auntie’s lawyer—and mine—he was one of the best in the state. I glanced up at him as he stopped by my side.
“I want a restraining order against Elliot now. If I don’t get it, I’m going to make certain he moves off this island.” I was dead serious. Elliot had crossed the line for the last time, and I wasn’t in any mood to give him another chance.
Winthrop nodded. “I’m on it. How long till you’re done with her and we can bail her out?” he asked the officer.
Shanna Reynolds gave him a veiled look. “Another half hour.”
He gave me a long look. “I’ll get the ball started on the restraining order while you . . . finish your appointment here.”
I behaved all the way through fingerprinting, which left a mess on my hands, and mug shots, which made me wish to hell I’d gotten more sleep the night before. If I had to have a picture taken that would last long after my death, then why couldn’t I have bothered with a little more makeup? Grumpy and tired despite the wonderful lunch I’d had, I finally found myself released into Winthrop’s waiting hands, not once seeing the inside of a jail cell.
He kept his peace until we were outside, heading toward his car. “You little idiot! I can’t believe you did that,” he said. “You worried your aunt sick and gave yourself a nice little record. Why couldn’t you have just waited until the cops got there?” Blowing out a long sigh, he shook his head. “Don’t answer that. I know what your aunt calls you, and she’s right. You’re certainly more impetuous than is good for you.”
We slipped into his car, and I leaned back against the headrest, reveling in the softness of the leather. Which reminded me, my car was now unusable until I got the windshield fixed.
“What about Elliot? Did you get the order?”
“Yes, it’s in the works and should be approved. Don’t you worry about him. Florence wants to sue his butt off in a civil suit for damages, and you can take him to court for harassment. By the time we’re done with that miserable loser, he’ll slink out of town and hopefully never come back.”
“I don’t want his money,” I said. “I just want him to get out of my life for good. But I suppose he should pay for the car and the windows—that’s only fair.” I stared at my hands. The ink had stuck to my fingers, and they were now a delightful shade of purple-black.
Winthrop glanced at me. “Don’t touch the upholstery, okay? It costs a bundle to remove ink stains.”
I let out a long sigh. “Okay, okay. So where are you taking me?”
“Home. Your auntie’s there, waiting for you. She left Tawny and Betsy in charge of the shop. Your friend Barbara stayed to help out.”
Great. Now I’d inconvenienced everybody. I just hoped Elliot hurt like hell. I couldn’t help but relish the feeling of freedom that punching his lights out had given me. I’d been wanting to do that since he first showed up in Gull Harbor earlier this year, bent on making me miserable. I’d better enjoy it, I thought grimly, because Auntie was going to bite my head off.
As we pulled into the driveway, I let out a long breath. “So, do you think I’ll end up in jail for this?”
Winthrop snorted. “I hope we’ll be able to prevent that. By the time we get done laying out Elliot’s background and his current habit of harassment, we’ll have the judge on our side—and jury if need be. I might be able to convince him to drop charges, though.” He turned off the engine. I didn’t like the sound of this, because I knew what was coming. “If you go against your aunt’s wishes and avoid a civil lawsuit, he’ll probably jump at the offer to drop assault charges against you.”
“But that’s not fair—” I sputtered.
He waved away my protest. “Fairness has no place in justice. Trust me, I know. The fact is that he has no money, his job isn’t worth squat, and he doesn’t have any assets. A lawsuit would only serve to soothe your ego; it wouldn’t do a damn thing otherwise except tie up the courts, cost you and your auntie a bundle, and take up time you could be spending on other, more interesting things.”
I stared at him. He was serious. “But I want to pound Elliot into the ground so he can never bother me again!”