"Ok. Yeah, sure. I ain't in a laughin' mood right now," Mark snapped.
"Weell, sooorrry, Mr. Grump."
"You two sound like me and my second wife and me and my fourth wife," Colfax chimed as he turned around to place the cups before his visitors. "You two married?"
"Soon to be, I think," Shylah remarked. "If he keeps up this attitude, I don't know. I may be a widow shortly after the wedding."
"I like her," Colfax laughingly replied. "I like her a lot! She's a firecracker, this girl right here! You hold onto her, if it isn't too presumptive to tell you your business, friend. She's gonna be a welt in your side some days with her jokes, but you don't find somebody like her every day. You're a lucky, lucky man, Sir."
"Yeah, I am. I know it," Mark agreed, smiling at Shylah as he grabbed her hand. "Well, so you need a check and the info, right, Mr. Col... Riley?"
"Yep. Three thousand made out to Riley Colfax or Riley Raymond Colfax. Either is fine. And whatever you got on this so-called sister of yours, write that down for me. Now, Stan told me that there's been no proof that this woman is even your sister, except for your father's signature on the birth certificate. Unfortunately, you're not gonna find out any more on that front. Unless you can somehow force her or trick her into takin' a DNA test, you got no grounds either way to say she is or is not your sister. Legally, she is, but that's a piece of paper. I've seen plenty of times when there was a birth certificate that said one thing and then a test was done, and it proved entirely different." Colfax promptly grabbed the check from Mark as soon as it was written, and after giving it a thorough glance, laid it down on the desk. "Now, just so you know, if this check bounces, I will come lookin' for you. I'm sure there's no problem there. Stan said you're rich, or you will be anyway. I'm sure you got plenty of money. But I'm just sayin', if this check is only good for wipin' my ass, I will hunt you down. I'm not afraid to pull you out in the street in your own town and pull your pants down and give you a spankin' like your kindergarten teacher used to do. Comprende, Amigo?"
"Yes, Sir, but there's nothin' to worry about. That check is good as gold."
"I'm sure it is, Mr. Crady. I'm sure it is. See. I wanna trust you. I like you already. You seem like a real standup guy! And if Stan Walker vouches for you, well, that says a lot. But, I've also had plenty of times when a guy was vouched for by somebody I trusted, and I started to like the guy, thought maybe we could even be friends, and the guy stiffed me." Colfax leaned back in his swivel chair, with his arms crossed, staring into Mark's eyes, making Mark quite uneasy and nervous.
"Well, Sir, like I said, good as gold, just like my word. So, you're gonna get started on this right away, right?"
"Yes, Siree, Bob. I might even start tonight. It depends on what we're talkin' about. By tomorrow, for sure. I wanna help you get this bit... pardon, lady. I wanna see justice is done. Anyhow, you got nothin' to worry about. I'd stake my reputation on it. Everybody's got dirty laundry. Some are better at hidin' it than others, but it always comes out. She's got some dirty laundry. I'll guarantee you that. In fact, I'll bet you this three grand here on my desk on it! I'll find somethin', plenty to send her runnin' back to where was it? It was Macon, right? I think that's what Stan told me. Anyway, you just relax, and as soon as I got somethin', I'll give you a call. So, if you would, please take that piece of paper in front of you on that pad and write down your phone number or numbers and what you know about this person you want me to follow. Her name, where she lives, where she was stayin' the last you knew, anything you can think of. Even if it seems like a really minute detail, like the kind of thing that nobody pays attention to, write that down as well. You'd be surprised how easy a person can be tripped up over the smallest of things."
Mark was already busy thinking of anything about Sara that might help well before Colfax carried on so long into his diatribe. He passed the paper to Shylah to have her look it over, hoping that maybe she could think of something that he hadn't, but Shylah had nothing to add. Mark somewhat shakily handed the pad of paper across the desk to Colfax, who carefully perused every detail. After a handshake, everyone bid farewell to one another, Mark and Shylah to each other obviously excepted.
Before Mark followed Shylah out of the door, he paused, turning to face Colfax, his curiosity running wild. "Were you a cop? You seem like one."
"Yep. Four years, Savannah P.D., three years, Waycross P.D., one year, Georgia State University P.D."
"You went from bein' a regular cop to a college cop? How's that happen?"
"Long story involving a bad place at the wrong time and accusations leveled my way. I quit but still needed a job, went to the university police department, got hired right away cuz of my experience, quickly rose up the ranks there but got tired really fast of all the stupid college drama and bullshit and quit that job and started this place. I'm good at what I do, and I'm sure it has a lot to do with the fact that I was a cop for so long and probably with my dad bein' a cop and two of my uncles. I still think of myself as a cop. I just don't have to answer to whiny ass bosses and take shit from the public." As he spoke, Colfax tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth in place where he stood. The whole thing seemed funny to Mark, but he chalked it up to not being any of his business.
Chapter 25
Mark felt horrid for having to resort to such desperate means of protecting the family estate, but Sara had necessitated the move. She proved herself, time and again, to be impervious to reason or common social etiquettes. With the attempt to file suit against the estate, she had gone way too far. Mark would have none of it and would do anything to keep Sara from having her way. It all seemed a bit too childish to him, but then again, Sara, he decided, was nothing but an overgrown child.
Mark called Don Birchum first thing on Tuesday morning to let him in on what was happening. Don adamantly demanded that Mark take as much time as he needed to straighten out his affairs. All that had been going on at the plant was the same plans of construction and machinery outfitting. It did not require two men to be there. There was not even enough work to keep Don busy, and he was coming to like the lull of things and the ability to still leave home in the morning but then spend a large part of his day doing whatever he pleased. As far as his wife knew, he was working, but what he was really doing was mostly playing on the computer in his office, drinking beer, watching TV., and chatting with construction workers. He knew that he would likely miss it all when things resumed their normal functions.
"I'll call ya if I need ya for anything, Mark," Don happily assured his boss. "But I doubt there'll be anything at all. I got everything covered. Don't you worry a bit! I'll take really good care of the place!"
"Thanks, Don," Mark eagerly chimed, laying his phone down on the kitchen counter, returning to his morning coffee and cigarettes with Shylah.
"So, I guess you don't have to go into work, huh," Shylah asked. She knew that she might, at times, prefer that Mark went to work, but with everything going on and with them having only a day and a half before gotten back together, she did not want to see Mark leave her side.
"Nope. You got me all day, Baby. Can ya handle me?" Mark laughed as he brushed the hair from the side of Shylah's face.
"Oh. I don't know. I might have to put you to work to keep ya out of trouble."
"Does that work involve me and you and no clothes," Mark joyfully inquired.
"It might," Shylah hinted. "It just might."
It seemed that it could turn out to be a great day after all, and it was exactly what Mark had hoped for, a day of nothing but he and Shylah enjoying each other's company with no expectations or requirements. They sat at the kitchen table for more than two hours, drinking coffee, smoking, and talking about their life together, what they wanted out of it, and what kind of world they wanted for their unborn child. Mark felt perfectly satisfied and contented in seeing what his home life could be like for many years to come. If not for all of the outside problems getting in the way of things, it
might all just be too perfect for words to ever describe.
No sooner than Mark got up from the table to take a quick survey of the property immediately adjacent to the house to see what work he needed Lou Sanders to do than a car came screeching and zig-zagging down the driveway. "I know that sound," Mark exclaimed without looking outside. "That sounds like... like Dan Brady's car! I'd recognize that awful sound anywhere! What the hell is he doin' here and at nine-thirty in the mornin'?"
"I don't know, Baby. Why don't you go see? I'll be here," Shylah suggested to Mark, pulling him toward her for one last kiss.
Mark emerged from the house almost exactly as Dan Brady slammed his car door ten feet away. "What are you doin' here, Dan?"
"Oh. I just got off my shift a bit ago and wanted to come see how you were doin' and to give you the news." Dan looked a bit shaky, which made Mark suspicious as he stepped down to the driveway.
"News?"
"Yeah, but first, how you doin', Buddy?"
"Oh. Hangin' in there. I got a lot of bad stuff happenin' lately, but other than that. They found a cyst on my brain, and between that and the injury, I get pretty dizzy sometimes and get some pretty bad headaches. I got it under control alright, though. So... what's the news you gotta tell me that couldn't wait til later in the day?"
"I heard about the plant. I'm sorry. I was tore up to hear about Tim Bedoe and Cyrus Donovan. Good guys, both of 'em." Dan seemed as though he might let out a tear or two but held strongly together, ever the stout policeman.
"Yeah. It was a damn tragic shame. I'll tell ya that much. But anyway, you keep mentionin' news, but you didn't say what it was yet."
"Oh ok. Well, here it is, and you're not gonna like it, but they caught the guy that assaulted you. He took off back to Atlanta and was hidin' out there. They got him, and it turned out that he was wanted on a number of other charges. Here's where it gets bad. They offered him a plea bargain. They were gonna drop all of his other charges except for assault with a deadly weapon if he pled guilty. He refused it, but he still made bail, despite bein' a flight risk, and he's probably never gonna see the inside of a courtroom."
Mark scratched his head in awe. He really wanted to drop all charges anyway, but now, his mind was running amok with wonder. "How? Why? I don't get it."
"Well, guess who his stepdaddy is, Mark."
"Winston Churchill? I don't know. Who?"
"You got the Church part right. Mason Church."
"Mason who? Should I know who that is? You gotta explain, Man. Oh hey, by the way, you wanna come in and say hi to Shylah and maybe have a beer while we talk this over?"
"It's like nine-thirty, Mark. You drink this early?"
"Some days, especially when I get bad news. It's one beer. It ain't gonna hurt ya. If you wanted to have like fourteen, I'd say hell no, but one beer in the mornin' is like havin' coffee in the mornin'. C'mon inside." Mark quickly turned to go into the house, leaving Dan Brady with no choice but to follow.
Shylah was still seated at the kitchen table when Mark strolled in and headed to the fridge, pulling out two very cold beers, tossing one to Dan. While opening his, Mark walked over to Shylah and planted a loving kiss on the corner of her mouth, tossing the cap to his bottle onto the center of the table.
As Mark pulled his bottle away from his mouth after a huge swig of his morning brew, he felt to compelled to let the matter of Tim Redenour go. "Mmmmm. So what's this about his stepdaddy bein' some Mason guy? What's that about?"
"Mason Church," Dan reminded Mark, taking a drink of his beer.
"Mason Church," Shylah chimed. "You mean the big investment and real estate guy?"
"Yep," Dan confirmed, "That'd be him! And he's also the Governor's huntin' buddy! Try that one on for size!"
"So what is this about Mason Church, though," Shylah asked.
"I was tellin' Mark how they caught the guy that assaulted him, but he made bail. This whole thing's gonna wash over. He's the stepson of Mason Church."
"That's bullshit," Shylah screamed at Dan. "All because he's got some big political ties, his stepson gets to try and kill Mark?"
"Looks that way. I know it's about as fair as tits bein' wasted on a nun, but that's how it is. That's life." Dan choked as he took another drink, the beer rushing down the wrong hole, causing him to stagger forward and nearly collapse.
Shylah jumped away from the table and began to pound Dan on the back. "You ok?" With another hard whack, Dan spewed the liquid all over the kitchen floor.
"Wrong hole," Dan informed his hosts as he straightened himself.
"I got that problem, too, sometimes, in the bedroom," Mark joked as he raised his bottle to imbibe in the last of its contents.
"I bet you love that, Shylah," Dan remarked, attempting to hold his laughter to a minimum. "I guess that wouldn't happen if you had the right equipment, though, Man."
"Oh, he's got the right equipment," Shylah quickly stated to defend Mark. "He's got everything right where it should be and the way it should be. It's more how he uses it. Sometimes, I swear he's like a blind man, but he can't even feel around like he should."
"Uh oh," Dan chortled, nearly dropping the bottle from his hand.
"You two got jokes, huh," Mark asked. "You think you're so funny, a couple of regular standup comedians and all. Heeyuck. Heeyuck. Heeyuck. Too funny."
"Oh, come now, Baby," Shylah demanded. "No harm meant. Take a joke. I love you with all my heart, even if you don't know where everything is."
"Yeah. I do," Mark shot back, leaning into the fridge for another beer. "Your nipples... those are by your belly button, ain't they?"
"Maybe on some of the saggy women you've been with before me!"
"Whew, Mark," Dan bellowed, "She got ya there! I don't know if I can agree with her, but she got ya. I mean, most of the women I seen ya with were pretty damn hot. I always was pretty jealous of ya. I think T.L. would be more the one to hook up with saggy-breasted women."
"Yeah. I'd agree with ya on that," Mark chuckled. "He has been with some pretty bad ones. Well, Dan, you wanna have a bite to eat? We still got a little bit left from breakfast."
"Oh. No thank you, Mark. I gotta get home and see a bed about some sleep. It was a long night. You two take it easy. I'm sure you got plenty of your own business to conduct. I heard about you guys gettin' hitched comin' up, so I'm sure you got a lot to do. Just make sure you invite your ol' friend, Dan Brady, or I'm gonna come back here knock your head off."
"Dan," Shylah broke in, giving the man a hug, "You know we'd never forget you. You'll be one of the first people on this list!" Pulling herself away, Shylah turned to Mark. "But he's right, Honey. We do have stuff to do. Since I don't have my car here, I do need you to take me into town for somethin'."
"For what?"
"Well, this wedding won't plan itself. I wanna go get some bridal magazines and start figurin' some stuff out before it's too late."
"Oh ok. Let me go talk to Lou for a second, and we'll go. Dan, always good to see you, Bud. Let me know if you hear anything more about the guy. Like you said, it probably won't amount to shit, but anyway. I'll catch ya later, Man." Mark took the hand of his friend and shook it violently, wrapping his other arm around his friend's back.
Shylah remained in the kitchen still saying further goodbyes to Dan as Mark went outside to speak to Lou.
"Lou," Mark shouted over the loud buzz of a weed eater. "Lou?! Lou?!"
Finally hearing a commotion, Lou stopped what he was doing to address his boss and friend. "Hey, Mark. What's up, Man?"
"I have to run to town in a bit. I don't really know anything to tell you to do. I'm sure you can figure out stuff needin' done around here. I trust ya. Just whatever you can find to do, go right ahead. Use your own judgment."
"Will do, Boss Man," Lou laughed. "Welp, gotta get this here weedin' done."
"Have at it," Mark encouraged his friend. "Talk at ya later."
As Dan left to head to his car, Shylah followed behind him, q
uickly met by Mark. "You ready to go, Babe," Shylah asked, quite anxious to begin planning the big day.
"Yep. Let's go, Gorgeous. You know somethin', though. You might wanna hire a weddin' planner. It'd make it all a lot easier."
"You really want me to spend that kinda money on somebody to do what I could be doin myself," Shylah demanded. "I mean, c'mon. They're expensive, and I don't see how they're worth it."
"Your choice, Baby. I just thought I'd make it easier on you and save you trouble. We haven't even set a date yet. We gotta get that part done first and then work around it. When are you wantin' to do this?"
Shylah thought for a brief moment and hastily returned, "Before the year's over."
"That soon? Is there enough time to get everything done? That's pretty fast."
"What? You got a problem with that? You don't know if there might be problems with the baby. It could come early, and I want us married before that happens! If you got a problem with it, you just shut up! We're doin' this before the end of the year, or we ain't doin' it!"
"Hey, hey, hey now! Let's not start fightin'! We don't need that. I'm not objectin' to anything. I just don't see how we can pull it off by then, but if you can somehow do it, go for it. I think that's all the more reason to hire somebody then. I'm not worried about the cost. I still have money plus two incomes and the insurance money comin' to me. Money is no problem here."
"Yeah. I was gonna ask you what my spending limit was, but now that I know, good deal. I was already thinkin' let's have the wedding at the church with Reverend Hill doin' the service and then have the part here afterward. You got all this land here, plenty big enough for lots of people. The only problem might be parking."
"Here? Have it here? No. I want somewhere real nice, somewhere you can be proud of. Let's see if we can book a place. Plus, I was gonna have a big party for the plan employees when the plant gets ready to open, and I was gonna have that here." Mark wanted to ensure that Shylah got exactly what she deserved, the best wedding day that money could buy, and having the reception at home seemed to him to be not nearly enough for such a special occasion, not to mention that he didn't want the added pressure and stress of it all by having everything at home.
Under the Cypress Moon Page 42