“He won the ‘Rockfield Fair Strongman Contest’—broke the record for the High Striker.” Carter grinned, before adding, “But I didn’t participate, or he would have been forced to settle for second place.”
Byron might not have use of his legs any longer, but it seemed as if all the strength that once made him an All-American running back at the University of South Carolina, and later in the NFL, had transferred to his still-sculpted arms.
“Isn’t he supposed to be in Charleston planning his wedding?”
“Don’t let the smile fool you, he and Tonya were on the verge of killing each other—practicing for real marriage, I guess—so he needed to get away, and have a cooling-off period.” Carter wiped a handful of sweat off his brow. “But on second thought, I’m not sure this was the best place to cool off. It’s a couple of pointy buildings away from being Egypt here.”
It appeared that my spaceship had landed in Bizarro World—one in which the couple that never fights needed “cooling off,” and Carter was the voice of reason.
“I thought everything was going great.”
Carter shrugged. “I try to tell people that the biggest cause of divorce is marriage, but they never seem to listen to me.”
Byron wheeled up to us, and greeted me like nothing was wrong. I congratulated him on winning the strongman competition.
He held the trophy in one hand, and one of Maloney’s campaign posters in the other. “You didn’t tell me you were going into politics, J-News.”
“I’m thinking about being his campaign manager,” Carter interjected.
“Talk about a bully pulpit,” Byron said.
“What will our platform be?” I asked Carter.
“I base all my politics on Teddy Roosevelt—walk softly, but carry a big stick.”
“Well, one out of two ain’t bad,” Byron quipped.
Carter nodded. “You’re right, I don’t walk that softly.”
He laughed at his perceived wit, but then took hold of the poster, and his expression changed. “Isn’t Maloney the guy you saved from being killed by Grady Benson?”
“That’s him,” I replied.
Carter grew irritated. “That’s how people are these days—you sacrifice for them, and then you become their roasted lamb.”
I got the feeling the comment was directed to his girlfriend, or perhaps now ex-girlfriend, Mistress Kate, more so than Maloney. That was a story I needed to get to the bottom of.
Carter attracted crowds wherever we traveled. Already, two adoring fans were approaching—my parents.
They greeted each other with glee. My mother then looked to me with an accusatory look. “How come you didn’t tell me that Carter and Byron were coming?”
They didn’t exactly give me much notice. “I guess I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“How long will you be in town?” my father asked.
“It’s open-ended right now,” Carter said
“Well, we will have to play a round of golf while you’re here,” my father said. And once again told the story about the golf outing with Byron during their visit to Charleston, and how he was the best player on the course, despite being relegated to his chair. It was at least the twelfth time I’d heard the story.
“It saves me money on the cart,” Byron joked.
Humor worked for him in dealing with his condition, but to me, it was anything but a laughing matter.
“How are the wedding plans going?” my mother mercifully changed the subject.
Byron flashed a fake smile. “Very well, but busy, so we thought we needed to get away for a little bit.”
“That’s very smart of you two. And since you’ll be bachelor-ing it for a bit, what are you doing for Labor Day?” she asked. “We’d love to have you at Ethan’s picnic.”
“If you got hot food and hotter chicks we’re in,” Carter said.
My father looked to Byron. “Has JP given you a tour of Rockfield?”
“We just got in a few hours ago,” Byron replied.
Carter spun him around in his chair. “There, now you’ve seen it.”
We laughed, and my father added, “We are small, that is true, but we do have a lot of hidden gems. Let me show you around the fair, and introduce you to some friends of mine—it will give you a firsthand look at our small-town hospitality.”
As I watched my father lead my friends off on the three-hour tour, I realized he had that consensus-building/ass-kissing thing down, which was why he was so good at his job for so long, and kept the town heading in the right direction. I sensed things were really about to change in a big way around here. And it felt like it went beyond my father leaving office.
Chapter 10
I found an empty picnic table and did one of my favorite things to do each year at the fair—watch as the sun sinks below the trees in the distance, and darkness slowly settles in. I’d been all around the world, but rarely had found such pure, unadulterated beauty.
Speaking of beautiful things, I was startled out of my gaze by her soothing voice, “Is this seat taken?”
I smiled. “It depends—is that for me?”
Gwen handed me a basket of barbecued chicken, along with an expensive cup of foam they try to pass off as beer.
She took a seat across from me as I heartily dug in. “I ran into Byron and Carter a few minutes ago. Did you know they were coming?”
“Not until Carter assaulted me.”
“From what I heard, he saved you from an encounter with your old friend Lauren Bowden.”
“Lauren Bowden is here?”
She rolled her eyes. “I think I saw her, but when went to say hello, she ran away from me—I mean, sprinted, like an Olympic runner in heeled cowboy boots. What’s that about?”
I shrugged. “Maybe she thinks you’re a CIA assassin looking to take her out.”
“Seriously—why is she here?”
“To do a story on Noah.”
“And you were okay with that?”
“Not really—it sort of blindsided me. The only retrospective on Noah I’ll ever endorse will be the one in the Rockfield Gazette. I kind of have a thing for the editor.”
“As tacky as her timing is, it still explains why she’d come. Unlike Carter and Byron.”
“I’m pretty sure Carter got dumped by Mistress Kate, while Byron and Tonya were in a pre-wedding meltdown, and needed some time apart.”
Gwen didn’t seem as surprised as I was to hear this news. “Well, at least he didn’t take Byron to Syria, like when we took our time apart.”
I was never going to live that one down. “Danger follows Carter, so I’m not sure it will make a difference where he goes.”
She thought for a second, and seemed to agree. “So how long are they staying?”
“Carter said it was open-ended.”
I could see Gwen doing the math in her head—Allison and her two kids, her dad, my parents, now Carter and Byron. This might be our last moment alone in the next decade.
And our current alone time ended when the police approached us. More specifically, the imposing figure of Rockfield’s police chief Rich Tolland. He was carrying a plastic cup that appeared to contain seaweed.
“I hope that isn’t your dinner,” I said, pointing to the cup.
“I got my blood pressure checked at Doc Mac’s booth today, and it was high. It was fine last year, I wonder what has changed since then.”
He and Gwen both looked at me. But before I could defend myself, Rich let me off the hook, “As much as I’d like to blame it on you, I think it has more to do with the extra thirty pounds I’ve been carrying. So I decided if I had to sacrifice to see my kids grow up, I would do that. Starting now.”
He took a sip of his concoction and winced.
“I’ll bet it wasn’t an easy choice,” I said, and took a bite out of a chicken leg.
Gwen smacked me on the arm.
“This might not help with your blood pressure, but I just wanted to give you warning that Ca
rter’s in town,” I said.
“I’m a cop, Warner, I can smell trouble a mile away. That, and I just ran into him and his friend Byron. I’m considering declaring an emergency for all of Rockfield and neighboring towns.”
I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.
“Congrats on your award,” Gwen said.
“Thanks, but it really should go to all of us, and JP was the one who pushed the issue to get the ball rolling. Frankly, I’m the one who started the whole mess by hiring that serial killer.”
“Don’t you dare blame yourself, Rich—without your courage, that madman would still be on the loose,” Gwen both scolded and comforted at the same time.
“I agree, it was well deserved,” I said. “But if you don’t mind, can we change the subject?”
There wouldn’t be time for that. Rich’s phone rang, and he listened intently with a look of concern. Moments later, Gwen received a call of her own, and her face gave away its serious nature.
I couldn’t help but feel that history was about to repeat itself.
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Acknowledgments
Thanks to another great editing job by Charlotte Brown. With Huddled Masses being a second in a series, it doubled her challenge - not just having to maintain consistency to the beginning of the book, but all the way back to the first book. And because of her work Huddled Masses was able to make a seamless transition from Officer Jones. Thanks also to Damon of Damonza for a terrific, professional cover on short notice, Curt Ciccone for again performing his formatting magic, and to all those who helped with proofreading, especially Sandra Simpson, the book is so much better because of you - it’s not an easy job trying to hunt down my many mistakes. As for a couple topics in the book, O’Halloran Advertising taught me everything I know about Yellow Pages advertising - I told them I’d find a way to work it into a novel one day! And to all those brave journalists who have risked their lives to cover the civil war in Syria. By reading your courageous tales, it was the best research an author could have, without actually being there.
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