by Lia Riley
What that price was, he didn’t know. Nor did she want him to. Deniability of your mother’s potential criminality was important when you were the local judge.
“Cop a squat, sugar.” She reached for her remote control, fiddled with a button, and turned down the chorus to “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.”
He walked to her recliner, the one where she made a tut-tut sound. “Not there, dear. There.”
He shuffled to the tiny stool by the bed, heart sinking. The stool’s third leg was broken, making it impossible to sink your weight down. The result was a thigh-crunching balancing act to keep from toppling over.
Mama reserved this stool for those in the proverbial dog house.
“Sugar,” she murmured in her breathless way, reaching out and taking his hand between hers. Her skin was paper thin. You’d never think those were the hands that wielded a wooden spoon to strike fear and pain into a young boy’s hindquarters. “You disgraced yourself at the Everland park.”
The muscles of his stomach tightened. “Dunno what you’re taking about.” How had she heard about his interaction with Pepper Knight? He hadn’t known who she was, just that he liked the way she filled out her shorts. Bitterness bubbled inside him. He’d have been able to look his fill every day if Mama hadn’t forced him to let her go to hire that idiot Tommy Haynes.
“You gave that town cause to laugh at us.” Mama squeezed his hand harder and harder. For someone with arthritis, she had a constricting grip, like a python, choking off his blood supply. Her voice hardened. “When Everland laughs at you, they laugh at me, and when they laugh at me, they laugh at Hogg Jaw.”
“I’m sorry, Mama. I tried to make a plan—”
“Trading your support in the Low Country Foundation to become Mr. Scallywag? Have you been in the moonshine again?”
She knew about that? Why was he even surprised? Of course she did. This was Mama. She knew if he was going to take a crap before his stomach rumbled. All he’d wanted was for her to see he was a man women would throw money at in order to spend the evening with. Not a laughingstock.
But her hoarse chuckling revealed he’d been kidding himself.
She pounded her chest. “It’s my life’s curse that the Good Lord only saw fit to bless me with one child. More’s the pity, you take after your father. Weak. Cowardly. A disappointment.”
Aloysius recoiled, impossible to move back on the wobbly stool, especially when she held him fast.
“But, Mama,” he whined. “I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked. Every time. I thought if I came up with a plan all on my own it would make you proud.” His whole life that’s all he ever wanted. She’s the one who pushed him into law, trampled all over his desire to be a dentist. Then she’d orchestrated his campaign to be judge. She had the vision for his life, and he’d stayed the course.
“People despise you, sugar,” she said bluntly. “That’s different than fear. I thought getting you installed as judge in the county seat would be a way to bring that high-horse town under our thumb at last.”
He wasn’t sure if Mama loved him, but she did care about her hometown. She and his father both were distant descendants of its founder, Redbeard’s second mate, Henry Hogg. Pirate blood flowed through her veins.
His too, he supposed.
She took her heritage seriously.
“But you hated the Valentines. I thought you’d like it if I played hardball and—”
“Son. Let me tell you a little story. Virginia Valentine was from Hogg Jaw, did you know that?”
He shook his head slowly. Mama recycled her tales to where he knew most by heart. But had never heard this one.
“Ginny was my childhood chum. We used to do everything together. And then she went and defected upriver. Married the man I set my cap on. The man that should have been mine, not your daddy, who got me pregnant on the rebound. Because I let hurt make me stupid.
“But not anymore. For far too long Hogg Jaw has been darkened by Everland’s shadow. But they’ve grown soft, complacent, weakened by their romantic whimsy, forgetting their legacy, turning their proud pirate heritage into a cheap sideshow.” She gasped, a wheezy crackle echoing through her chest, and motioned to the orange pharmacy bottle on the bedside table.
He undid the lid and shook out a small white pill, handing it over with her glass of water.
“Forget the Valentines.” She swallowed with a sigh. “They are small fish, and a much bigger one has swum into our river. Everland laughs at you today, son. But Mama’s here to fix it, same as always. Plans are in motion to stop their laughing once and for all.”
He leaned in. “How?”
Mother smiled, a gentle, sweet smile that belied the terrifying gleam in her rheumy eyes. “Steal their community spirit. Siphon it bit by bit, so slow and so steady that they won’t know they’ve been emptied until it’s too late. Now, son, I’m happy to share that you’ve been selected for leading the first task. Time to make Mama proud.”
Excerpt from the Back Fence:
Everland News That You
Actually Care About
Classifieds:
Reward: Everland Quilt Guild is offering a $500 reward in addition to a rare Chinese lantern pattern quilt for information leading to the recovery of Davy Jones, Everland’s beloved town mascot. Any leads can be sent to Lou Ellen Woodall at [email protected]
Listen and Learn: Mayor Marino is opening up his doors and wants to hear from YOU. Every Tuesday he’ll be meeting with members of the public for fifteen-minute intervals. Let him know how he can work for you. And don’t forget to follow his new Twitter account: @MayorBeau for all the news from City Hall.
Medallion Hunt: (note from your humble editors) The Everland Examiner asked us to remind everyone to keep an eye out for the Medallion Hunt’s third clue. This family-friendly event runs in conjunction with the Village Pillage. Solve the clues and be the first to find the Medallion hidden somewhere on public land and worth a whopping ten thousand dollars. Of course to do any of that, you’ll need to buy the paper (think they’re feeling the heat from us? Haha!).
Chapter Thirty-One
For once Pepper blended in at the dog park, her black outfit a match to everyone else dressed in mourning to pay their respects. The somber mood was conveyed poignantly by the General and Colonel Jim as they approached the concrete pillar where the Davy Jones statue used to be and laid a single red rose on top.
The General opened his mouth to speak, but his broad shoulders shook as if he’d been overcome by an emotion too powerful for words. Jim pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Dear Lord,” Lillian whispered in a choking voice. She dabbed her eyes with a lace-edged handkerchief. “Must be my allergies acting up.”
“But who would do such a thing?” Pepper asked nobody and everyone. “Who would want to steal Davy Jones?”
“Someone without a soul,” Lillian responded with vehemence.
“We’re starting a neighborhood watch.” The General approached, finding his voice. “Doing evening patrols.”
Colonel Jim nodded. “The mayor’s come to pay his condolences. Maybe he has an update.”
Beau Marino entered through the wrought iron gate dressed in a rumpled suit. Despite his olive skin, there were dark circles under his eyes.
“Any leads?” Lillian called out.
Beau shook his head. “Not yet.”
“No surveillance footage?” the General asked.
“The park isn’t outfitted with cameras.”
“The police should be conducting door-to-door searches,” Colonel Jim said with feeling. “Can you authorize the funding?”
“You think someone in town has Davy Jones?” Pepper asked.
“Everyone is a suspect,” Lillian replied firmly.
“Everyone?” Pepper was dubious. “That means anyone here. We have to be able to rule some folks out.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps he was snatched as a prank by an out-of-towner who thinks that hometown
pride and traditional values are something to poke fun at,” Lillian retorted, glaring at her over the top of her tiger-print bifocals. “Oh, I wish Doc were here.”
Pepper glared back. Someone was still bitter about losing all those Scrabble games.
“Ladies, ladies.” The General stepped between them. “We can’t fight amongst ourselves. The enemy wants grief to tear us apart. Fear can’t win today.”
“How can you be so sure what the enemy wants?” Pepper asked.
Beau crossed his arms and regarded her blearily. “I suppose you’ve heard about Davy Jones by now?”
“Yes,” Pepper said, uncomfortable under the full force of the mayor’s scrutiny. She knew who he was, of course. The distance between elected Everland officials and the electorate was often the person ahead in line at Sweet Brew. Still, he was Rhett’s best friend, and until this moment he had never directly spoken to her. Plus, he was good-looking, in an intimidating way. Not like he was going to throw a punch, but he looked like he could. And he’d make it hurt.
“Then you can appreciate how he is a well-beloved town mascot.”
Everyone murmured in agreement.
“Which raises the question, why would someone from town steal it?” Pepper asked, hoping to get them thinking in the right direction.
“You’re asking a lot of questions. What were you doing last night?” another voice called out.
It took Pepper a moment to realize that the question was being leveled at her. Worse still, she knew exactly what she’d been doing last night, and the fact it was dirty deeds with the beloved town vet wasn’t an answer she could toss out. Her cheeks heated.
“That’s a guilty look,” Lillian muttered. “Look at that. I know a guilty look and she’s got one.”
“How could I have stolen that statue? It would weigh as much as me.” Pepper bristled with impatience. They were chasing their tails and missing the bigger picture. “And more important, why would I even want it?”
“To boil down and pawn the bronze?” Lillian fired back. “Your sister has been leaving no stone unturned with the medallion hunt. All I hear out of that girl’s mouth is money, money, money. Mayor, I demand you take them both in for questioning.”
“This is a witch hunt,” Pepper cried. “What about being innocent until proven guilty?” Typical small-town mob.
“People.” Beau raised up his hands. “Calm down. We’re getting to the bottom of this dognapping. It’s my highest priority, I can assure you. Miss Knight?” he said without glancing over. “A word?”
Funny how silence can sometimes sound exactly like “Oooooooh, someone’s in trouble.”
Pepper glanced at Ziggy, her charge for the day, who romped with the dog pack without a care in the world. “Sure.” She trailed the mayor across the park. He was a big man. Football player big. The sun brought out the copper highlights of his strong cheekbones. His hair was thick, wavy and a shade lighter than black. He paused next to an out-of-the-way picnic table.
“Look, you have to know that I didn’t steal—”
“I’m not here for Davy Jones,” he said. “I know you didn’t steal the dog. Last night I called my best friend three different times. He didn’t pick up. I know he wasn’t on the boat, because I was there.”
“Oh.” She examined her shoes.
“Let me shoot straight. Whatever you and Rhett get up to is your choice. You’re consenting adults. If it’s fun for you to run around pretending it’s a big secret, then who am I to judge?”
“We aren’t pretending,” Pepper said. “He doesn’t want the gossips to know.”
“And I can’t fault him for that,” he shot back. “But what I need to talk to you about is Tuesday. She’s your sister?”
“Yes?” Pepper blinked. This was the last thing she expected Beau to bring up. “Don’t tell me she’s a suspect.”
“No.” He grimaced. “She’s a royal pain in the ass.”
Pepper chewed the bottom of her lip. When did Tuesday cross paths with the mayor? And what gave him the right to talk that way?
“My turn to be straight,” she snapped. “Only I’m allowed to talk trash about my baby sister.”
“I respect that.” He stood a moment in uncomfortable silence. “Can you introduce us?”
Pepper lifted an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Introduce us,” he said with gritted teeth.
“You smack-talked my sister, but haven’t personally met her?”
“I don’t even know what she looks like,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry, back up? I wasn’t aware that Tuesday’s skills had developed to the point where she was making people she’s never met crazy.”
“The Back Fence,” Beau blurted.
“The gossip blog?”
“I have a new column there. Mayor Musings.”
“Catchy.”
His jaw twitched. “I didn’t name it. Anyway, she baited me.”
“What do you mean, like a troll?”
He nodded slowly. “I wrote a post and she…she poked fun at it.”
“My sister isn’t mean.” Pepper tried to imagine her sister being a troll who hangs out in the comments section. She didn’t have an angry bone in her body. Plus, she’d never lurk online. If her sister had something to say, she’d make sure she found the person’s face and said it to them, straight on, damn the torpedoes.
“The comments weren’t mean.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “They might even be funny. The problem is that my job is serious. My messages are serious. And she’s turning them into a joke.”
“So you want me to introduce you to her so you can ask her to play nice.”
“I have important meetings coming up. I can’t be made a laughingstock,” he seethed.
“Aren’t politicians supposed to have thicker skin?”
“Arrange a sit-down. When you have a time, call my assistant, and she will put you straight through.” The mayor stalked away.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Forty-five minutes later, Pepper met Rhett at the front door of her house. They tumbled inside, a tangle of tongues and limbs, and were met with a loud throat clearing. Tuesday draped over the back of the couch. “I’d ask you to get a room, but Kitty and J.K. Growling are napping on your bed, and I’ve commandeered the spare one.”
Pepper adjusted her top, her throat tightening at the expression on Tuesday’s face. “What’s wrong? Is it Dad? You heard from him?”
“No. It’s hopeless.” Tuesday raised the paper. “The next clue doesn’t even make sense. ‘Go deliver a dare, vile dog! Murder for a jar of red rum. Do geese see God? God saw I was dog.’ ”
Rhett and Pepper exchanged glances as she read the clue in a dramatic voice. “Does it sound like a reference to any place name you can think of?” she asked at the end.
“Doesn’t sound like much of anything,” Rhett answered, turning to furtively tug up his zipper.
“I hate riddles, my precioussssss,” Tuesday hissed in her best Gollum voice, rolling up the Examiner to shake it like a stick.
“Hang on a second. Red rum?” Rhett frowned. “Isn’t that from a Stephen King book?”
“No idea.” Pepper shook her head. “The only genre I can’t read is horror. I get that man is talented, but he sets his stories in Maine. Too close to home. I’d never sleep at night.”
“That’s so true. You’re a wimp when it comes to horror,” Tuesday said with a laugh. “Remember when you watched ten minutes of The Shining during that high school Halloween party and—”
“Red rum. Red rum.” Pepper snapped her fingers. “Murder. Wait. Read the clue back for me.”
Tuesday repeated it. Twice.
“Murder? Red rum. Dog? God. Dog. Of course!” Pepper clapped her hands. Excitement built through her, the way it always did when she untangled a thorny mental knot. “These sentences are palindromes.”
Rhett grabbed the paper and his eyes locked on hers. “You’re right.”
“Pali—what�
��s that?” Tuesday tipped her head to the side, confused.
“Words or phrases that are spelled the same in either direction. Do geese see God? It’s spelled the same if you read from left to right or right to left.”
“Hot damn!” Tuesday threw her arms up into the air in a victory V shape. “You’re a genius.”
“It’s only part of the puzzle.” Pepper shook her head with a frown. “They are palindromes, but I don’t understand the significance.”
Rhett cracked a knuckle. “Clue one. It’s by the river. Clue two indicated it was near Mars Rock. Wait. Give me a pencil, quick!”
“Pen?” Pepper reached into the basket on the kitchen counter.
“That works. And some scratch paper.”
She passed him a notepad and he jotted down a few words. “I got it. Elleselle Memorial, that’s where you’ll find the medallion. It’s near the river, in Mars Rock Park next to the National Wildlife Refuge. Elleselle is a palindrome, too.”
“Can we go?” Tuesday executed a flamboyant pirouette. “Right now?”
“Let’s load the dogs into my Bronco.” Rhett tossed the pen on the pad. “I’ll drive.”
Fifteen minutes later, Pepper had organized six dogs, a vet, and one hyperventilating sister into the Bronco.
She paused outside the passenger door. “Do you think anyone else is there?” She spoke low, out of Tuesday’s hearing range. Her sister was so excited, she didn’t want to raise her hopes only to watch them dash.
“Not sure,” he whispered back. “There is still one more day before the final clue releases. We’re ahead of the game.”
“But you’re smart. Both of you,” Tuesday piped in, rolling down the window.
So much for protecting the innocent.
As Rhett drove off, Tuesday crowed, “Ten thousand dollars! For some people in the city that’s a couple pairs of shoes and a Friday night out. For us? It’s a fresh start.”
Pepper rubbed Rhett’s suddenly tense shoulders. How did he feel about all this? If they won the prize money, his reward would be losing her.