by Becki Willis
“Of course. Subtle is my middle name.”
***
“So this is the model you suggest for my friend’s restaurant?” Madison pretended to peruse the brochure in her hand. It touted a long list of the benefits to choosing that particular brand.
“Absolutely. Anything less would be inadequate, anything more would be overkill,” the large man called Tiny replied.
“You see, Madison?” Granny Bert beamed. “I told you we needed to talk directly to the man who installs them. That salesman up front would have sold us more than we needed, just to make the commission. I say you can’t ever go wrong, talking to the main man like Tiny here.”
Madison still looked unconvinced. “And you service them, too, correct? Because that’s what my friend is most interested in.”
“Absolutely. That’s my service area, so I’ll be the one making quarterly inspections.”
Granny Bert sidled up against the man and spoke with a conspiratorial air. “They didn’t show it on television, you know, but there was an incident at the café. Could have been bad, but luckily that good-looking fireman was there at the time. Took care of the flame before it burned the whole place down.”
“You don’t say.”
Instead of moving away, Granny Bert remained close. She stared up at him, her eyes filled with what appeared to be admiration. “Tell me, Tiny. Are you married?”
An amused smile played across his lips. Tiny Libenthal had a big, beefy body, set upon a sturdy frame no less than six feet tall. With no hair left on his bald head, it was hard to determine his exact age, but Madison guessed him in his late sixties. Shackled with a squared head, thick neck, and blunt features, the man had not been blessed with good looks. “As a matter of fact, I am single,” he confirmed.
“You don’t say.”
“Granny Bert!” Madison blushed at the insinuation in her grandmother’s voice. Was she playing matchmaker?
“What? I’m not asking for you; I’m asking for me!” She placed a wrinkled hand upon his fleshy arm, which would easily make two of her own. “I just love a man who makes me feel all small and dainty. I’m a bit on the taller side, you know, and most of the men I know are stooped over like a humpback whale. It’s nice to have a tall, handsome man such as yourself towering over me.” She ran her hand up and down his bulging biceps. “You remind me so much of someone else I know, but for the life of me, I can’t figure it out. Surely there can’t be two men as big and handsome as yourself.”
“Sure there can,” Tiny grinned. “I have a twin brother. They call him Slim.”
“Slim?” Her tone was incredulous. “The one who does insurance adjustments? That Slim? He’s your twin? He can’t be!” She swatted at his arm in feigned disbelief.
Tiny nodded vigorously. “Most folks have trouble telling us apart.”
“But you’re so much more handsome than he is. And you look five years younger!” She peered at him closely. “Yes, I see the resemblance now. And I reckon that’s who I was thinking of, but I never would have taken you two for twins. Maddy, you remember Slim, don’t you? He helped me out with that claim for my motor home.” She offered a sheepish smile for the big man. “He knew I would come out on the short-end of an insurance claim, so we worked a little deal on the side.”
Tiny laughed. “That sounds about like my brother. Always trying to make an extra dime. Then he goes and spends it on fast women and cheap liquor.”
“I resent how you make that sound like a bad thing,” Granny Bert huffed.
“Uh… Uhm…” he stammered, clearly at a loss for words. His eyes flew to Madison for guidance, but her stunned expression offered no help.
The older woman ignored them both and continued. “He said the problem was most likely the electric martini shaker I left plugged in, but he put it down as a faulty oven exhaust. Said there were known problems with the model I had and no one would question his ruling, especially since the same thing had happened to some other schmuck just before me. That one really was the exhaust. Between that and the axillary fuel tank, he said that sucker melted like a wax candle.”
“Yeah, I saw that one,” Tiny grinned. “Before and after.”
“Before?”
Realizing his slip, Tiny started to recant, but Granny Bert ran her hand along his arm again and cooed, “Why you little dickens, you! You’re as sneaky as your brother, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” The questionable way he said the word neither denied nor confirmed her claim. But his grin spoke volumes, punctuated by his sly wink. “For the right price.”
Granny Bert gave a gleeful peal of laughter. “Maddy, girl, I think we’ve found just the men we were looking for!”
“I think so,” Madison agreed. It took her a while, but she had finally caught on to her grandmother’s game.
“Is your friend’s café in some sort of trouble? Because between the two of us, we could help her out,” Tiny offered. “Sometimes a wire comes mysteriously undone… A claim can be approved or denied, depending what the customer is paying for…”
“Things are good for now, but once they quit filming, you never know what will happen.” Granny Bert shrugged for good measure. “But it sure is good to know we have options, just in case things go south.” She patted Tiny’s arm. “Maddy, I think we’ve taken up enough of this man’s valuable time. I know he has more important things to do than entertain an old woman and her fantasies.”
She followed Madison to the door, but turned to smile over her shoulder. “Tiny, the next time you’re in The Sisters, you be sure and look me up, you hear?”
“I might just do that,” the man grinned.
As they hurried out to the car, Madison hissed, “You were flirting shamelessly with that man! I thought you said your middle name was Subtle.”
“It is.” She flashed a wicked grin as she ducked into the car. “And my first name is Anything But.”
The next stop was the insurance agent’s office. The agent represented several lines, Magnus included. Did the ladies need new auto insurance, by chance? Could he interest Madison in life insurance? What about a cancer policy? Granny Bert might want to hear about a burial policy he had. And everyone needed more home insurance coverage these days.
When Madison explained they were specifically interested in a Magnus policy, he looked genuinely perplexed. Their rates, he explained, were generally a bit higher than those of their competitors. The company specialized in commercial policies.
“We’ve heard good things about them,” Madison lied. “We’ve heard several restaurants use them and are impressed with how quickly they process a claim.”
Granny Bert added her own, “They say the adjuster comes out lickety split. A real nice fella they call Slim.”
“Slim Libenthal? Nice?” His eyes bugged. “I could think of a lot of names to call Slim Libenthal, but nice would not be one of them. The man is about as friendly as a porcupine.”
The older woman shrugged. “Maybe they were on the right end of his decision.”
“Not without some money under the table, they weren’t,” the man snorted. He looked up, realizing they heard the muttered words. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“That’s okay. We heard Slim could be swayed by a wad of bills and a pretty face.” She winked her eye. “If we have a problem, Madison here has the cash, I have the face.”
“My grandmother is kidding,” Madison quickly assured the agent. “We would never do such a thing.”
The insurance agent sighed. “I’ve often suspected Slim was on the take, but I can never prove it. Too many of his cases have had controversial results. He backs them with the right paperwork, all the right citations and such, but still…”
“Have you reported him to the company?”
“Unfortunately, he’s seen as something as an expert in the field of fire suppression equipment, even with other insurance companies. They applaud his ‘invaluable insight and uncanny talent in detecting faulty equipment
and hazardous conditions.’ Especially when it saves them money.”
“It sounds like you’ve made the complaint more than once.”
“I hate seeing my clients devastated by a claim that has been denied.”
“In a worse-case scenario, what usually happens to those clients?” Madison inquired.
“They go broke. Some file bankruptcy, some sell out, some just cut their losses and close down their business.”
“There’s nothing you can do?”
The man answered with a wry smile. “I can suggest my clients go with another company, just as I’m doing with you. Let me get you some information on TriState Insurance.”
***
A call to Slim Libenthal’s office went to voicemail. Deciding to kill some time before trying him again, Madison and Granny Bert hit a few of the antique stores Giddings was known for. After two hours of shopping, a long lunch, and still no answer at the adjuster’s office, they admitted defeat and headed back to Juliet.
“I’m still thinking about that hall tree I saw at Whistle Stop,” Madison said wistfully. “It would be perfect for the ladies’ parlor, don’t you think?”
“Which parlor is that again? Miss Juliet had one for every purpose.”
“The parlor on the right, between the foyer and the library.”
“I never did understand my friend and all her airs,” Granny Bert confessed. “Front parlor, ladies parlor, small parlor. Formal dining room, breakfast nook. Formal library and personal library. She had too many dad-blamed rooms to begin with. I still say you should have knocked down a few of those walls.”
“There were structural issues. Not to mention Nick’s obsession with staying historically correct.”
“Is that anything like politically correct?”
“If it is, you would know nothing about it. I still can’t believe you said some of the things you said today.”
“But I got results, now didn’t I, girl?” Her grandmother preened as they drove through the winding back roads that connected Lee County to The Sisters. “So recap for me. What have we got so far?”
“Five fires, none of them the same. Two have connections to A+ Fire Systems. At least three had coverage with Omega or one of their subsidiaries. We also know that the installer for A+ and the adjuster for Omega, parent company of Magnus, are brothers who can be easily bribed.”
“A bit of coincidence that Omega keeps popping up in all of this.”
“My thoughts, exactly.”
“So you’re thinking Omega denies the claims to keep from making a payoff?”
Madison pursed her lips. “That was my original thought, but it really doesn’t make sense,” she admitted. “They didn’t always deny the claims. They denied the one at Montelongo’s, but they paid out for Jerry Don Peavey and Miss Wanda.”
“Who did Ray Sams have insurance with?”
“I don’t know. But the vent system in his motor home was designed, in part, by A+. I don’t know if Slim was there on behalf of the manufacturer or the insurance company, but he was the one to determine the outcome of the claim.”
“Which was?” Granny Bert asked.
“I was hoping you knew.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I told you, I had nothing to do with that fire!”
“I never said you did. But you obviously know this Sams fellow. Do you know him well enough to ask him about the outcome of the fire?”
Granny Bert squirmed in her seat. “I know him well enough to know not to call him! We have what you might call a competitive history.”
“Competitive? Or combative?”
“Could be both,” her grandmother admitted.
“You might as well tell me.”
“Ray is part of the group I travel with. We all have our own RVs, but we go together because it’s more fun that way. Once Ray’s wife died, he got the notion he was somewhat of a lady’s man. He tried sparking with me a few times, but I wasn’t interested. The man’s a sloppy kisser, if the truth be known. When I showed more interest in Merv Mullins than I did in him, he got his shorts all in a wad and decided to show me up. Next camping trip, he took along Dolly Mac Crowder because he knew good and well we had a rivalry going in high school. The next time it was Dorian Nettles, who was running against me for mayor of Juliet.”
Madison listened in amazement. Apparently, the love life and drama among seniors wasn’t much different than that of teenagers. This sounded suspiciously like one of Bethani’s stories.
“When he realized I wasn’t jealous, he went for the jugular. He insulted my wheels. Challenged me to a road race. Made disparaging remarks about ole’ Brown Betty. You remember my motor home before this one, don’t you?”
“I think so.”
“I loved that ole’ gal. We had some fine times together. Traveled many a mile, seeing the countryside.” With an affection smile on her face, Granny Bert reminisced about the vehicle as if it were an old friend. The smile faded and her voice turned hard. “Then one day, out of the blue, she quit on me. We were over in deep East Texas at the time, back in the Piney Woods. Ray made another pass at me, I turned him down flat, and the next morning Brown Betty wouldn’t start. The mechanic mentioned something about a contaminated fuel source that gummed up the whole engine. I had to trade her in, right there on the spot.” She shook her gray head in regret.
“But you have a really nice one now,” Madison offered in consolation.
“True. Sassy and I have a lot of good travels, but I still miss Brown Betty. ‘Course, when Ray saw I bought a brand new model, he had to have one better. He bought the latest and greatest, with all the fancy slide outs to double the size. Darn fool spent thousands of dollars, just trying to outdo me. I heard he borrowed from his life insurance, just to make the down payment.”
“Sounds like he’s a sore loser.”
“You don’t know the half of it, girl. He would park his rig next to mine, as far over to the side as he could, so that when he opened the slides they would hang over into my space. While we were driving, he would try to pass me every time. Nearly caused two wrecks, pulling out in front of other vehicles just to go around me. Challenged me to another race. When I left him in the dust, he went out and bought an axillary tank and filled it with some sort of rocket fuel. I hear that’s what caused all the fireworks when the rig caught fire.”
“So that’s why you were so quick to say you had nothing to do with the fire, the first time I asked about it.”
“Ray put up a big squawk, pointing a finger at me for the blaze. Said I probably set the fire out of jealousy.”
“Why would you be jealous, if you won the race?”
Her grandmother shrugged. “Because he went out and got that fancy fuel tank. And he started seeing Sybille.”
Madison was surprised. “Miss Sybille, your best friend?”
“It didn’t last long. She sided with me and he vowed eternal revenge against the both of us.” She sounded slightly amused.
“Really? You don’t seem too upset about it. Aren’t you afraid of what he’ll do next?”
“Nah. Since he was such a good catch,” she used air quotes to emphasize her mocking tone, “Dorian snatched him up and married him before he had the sense to see what was happening. Now she has him so busy with honey-do lists and driving her to church every time the doors open that he doesn’t have time to plot his revenge against me and Sybille. And we figure being married to Dorian is the worst punishment of all, seeing as she’s already been through four husbands, each one of them deader than the next. So we’re good.” She finished with a brilliant smile.
Madison, too, wore a smile. “I’m learning all kinds of things about you, Granny. I never realized you were such a femme fatal. First, your mystery man before Grandpa Joe, now this Ray Sams and whoever Merv is. How many other men don’t I know about?” she teased.
“There are a few others,” her grandmother acknowledged. She gazed out at the passing countryside. “But you know about the ones that
matter.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I think it’s time to visit your friend again,” Madison informed Genny the next day at the restaurant. They indulged in a cup of coffee and pastries.
Genesis waved her fork in the air. “Luckily for me, I have more than one friend. Be more specific.”
“Carson Elliot.”
Genny wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I like the way you keep referring to him as my friend.”
“Why?” Madison teased. “Is Cutter getting jealous?”
“Cutter? What does this have to do with Cutter?”
“I saw the way he reacted when he thought Carson made a move on you. He was clearly jealous.”
“You’re delusional,” Genny snorted, clearly unamused.
Madison allowed her friend a moment of respite as she finished off her pastry. “So do you want to come with me, or not?”
“Will I hear the end of it if I do?”
Madison grinned. “From me, or Cutter?”
“You’re certainly in a good mood today. Did you sneak out to see Brash last night or something?”
“Shh!” Madison’s eyes flew around guiltily. She knew the cameras did not cover the back booth, but there could be ears nearby. Thankfully, no one was close enough to overhear their conversation. “Keep your voice down.”
“I could say the same to you,” Genesis replied in a surly voice.
“Okay, okay. And in answer to your question, no, I did not sneak out.” A smile broke across her face. “But I do get to spend some time with him next weekend. You know about the fish fry, right? And you’re coming?”
“Sure, count me in. It’s been too long since I’ve just goofed off and splashed around in the water. And I love fried fish, especially when someone else is doing the frying.”
“We’ll plan the menu on the way out to Carson’s. When can you leave?”
Genny looked around the near-vacant café. “Let me tell the staff I’m leaving and grab my purse. Oh, and can we go in your car this time? Mine is acting up again.”