by Paul Regnier
Heather slowed her pace, casting a flirty smile at Larry. “Hey Larry.”
“You girls going to Jack’s party later?” Larry asked.
“Yeah,” Heather said. “You playing tonight?”
“I might bring my guitar. Play a song or two,” Larry smiled.
“Great. See you there.” Heather shared a smile with her friend and waved as she walked away.
“Some hotties out tonight, huh?” Larry said.
“There’s an after party for the auction?” Kenny asked.
“Yeah,” Larry said. “No big deal. Kind of an invite only thing.”
“Oh.” Kenny frowned. “So, how’s the music biz?”
“It sucks,” Larry said. “Nowhere to gig around here.”
“You should do those video streams I told you about,” Kenny said. “With the right mixing software you can make some killer social media posts, then run a few keyword driven ads and–”
“Whoa. Easy geek squad,” Larry chuckled. “That’s your thing, man. I just wanna play guitar and sing.”
“You should’ve played tonight.” I pointed to the gazebo at the center of the park. “They’ve had live music before.”
“I asked,” Larry said. “They only want cover songs. And cheesy cover songs at that. The city council is an easy listening kind of crew. If I hit my distortion pedal, they’d probably have a heart attack.”
“Eh, their loss,” Kenny said.
Larry nodded. “Yeah, the only place that’ll let me play around here is Jake’s bar.”
“Well, that’s a decent gig,” Kenny said.
“It’s a toilet. And Jake always complains ‘cause I don’t play enough country. But hey, you gotta pay your dues, right?”
“Right.” Kenny said.
“Well, I gotta get going.” He lifted up the box under his arm. “I’m helping Carol the Barbarian with the fireworks show.”
“Wait.” Kenny stared at the box. “You got fireworks in there?”
Larry grinned. “Pretty sweet ones, too. This would be an awesome night if Carol would chill out. She gets sick pleasure in ordering me around. But I need my job at the hardware store and she’s my boss, so what’re you gonna do?”
Kenny nodded. “I heard that.”
“Well, I gotta bail before Carol blows a fuse. Later.” Larry took another bite of his apple and walked away.
“Man, that guy is cool,” Kenny said. “I need a wingman like that to help me with the ladies.”
“You saying I’m not cool?” I asked.
“No offense, Luke,” Kenny said. “You’ve got kind of a boyish charm thing happening, but Larry knows how to catch the ladies’ eyes and reel ‘em in.”
“I caught Brooke’s eye. She likes me ... kind of.”
“Yeah. Kind of. You’ve been hinting at a relationship for months now. Have you guys been on an actual date yet?”
“Yes. I mean, unofficially, but you know, we’re taking it slow. Building a foundation.”
“That’s what I mean. You’re running a marathon while Larry’s running sprints.”
“Whatever. Let’s go check out the auction.”
Taking in the first row of auction tables was like leafing through a magazine full of ads. Most of the items up for bid were offerings from retail shops. Whether it was a week's worth of mani-pedis, gutter cleaning, or two months of personal fitness training, the local businesses were spreading wide nets to snag new customers.
“You seeing anything good?” I asked.
“Nah,” Kenny said. “You gotta sift through the trash for the real finds. It’s like a treasure hunt.”
Bandit let out a low woof. This is boring. There’s great smells all around us. What’s the hold up? Didn’t we come here to eat?
“No,” I said. “We came here for the silent auction.”
“Huh?” Kenny said.
“Oh, nothing. I was talking to Bandit.”
Kenny looked at Bandit. “You understand his barks?”
“Sort of.” I tried to cover. “He’s got a great sense of smell and there’s vendors all over. He always barks like that when he’s hungry.”
“Ah.” Kenny nodded. “How cool is that? It’s almost like you guys are talking.”
“Yeah, almost.”
Almost nothing. Bandit looked up at me. You understand me fine. You’re just ignoring me.
Simmer down. I glanced at him. There’s a hot dog vendor nearby. I’ll get you one if you behave.
Bandit’s head lifted, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth in expectation. Oh boy. Hot dogs. I’ll be good. Just hurry.
Kenny looked up. “Hey, isn’t that your boss?”
At the center of the park, near the white gazebo, stood Carl Milton, my boss and the editor-in-chief at The Crystal Chronicle. Next to him was a trim man with shaggy brown hair. The trim man wore a plaid leisure suit, several decades out of style.
“Don’t let him see you,” Kenny said. “You’re supposed to be on the job. He’ll probably scold you for not taking journalist notes.”
“He knows I don’t need notes.”
“Oh, of course. Excuse me, Mr. Photographic Memory.”
“Who’s the lounge lizard next to him?”
“Graham Sullivan. He owns the Crystal Falls Theater. Don’t you ever go to the movies?”
“Not in that theater. I don’t think that place has been updated since they screened The Godfather. Which is probably about the same time Graham bought that suit.”
Carl waved, motioning for me to come over.
“Uh oh, he spotted you,” Kenny said. “Busted.”
“Alright, I’d better go talk to him.” I crouched down and patted Bandit. “You wanna stay here with Kenny or go talk to Carl with me?”
Bandit scooted away from me. Kenny. Carl smells like old after shave and prune juice.
Okay, be back in a sec.
“Can I leave Bandit with you for a bit?” I handed Kenny the leash.
“Sure. Dogs are chick magnets. Come on Bandit, help Uncle Kenny get a date.”
Bandit looked up at me. Can I change my mind?
Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.
I walked over to Carl Milton and extended my hand. “Hey Carl.”
“Evening Luke.” Carl shook my hand. “This silent auction will make for a great article, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” Maybe not a great article but an article, nonetheless.
“Luke, do you know Graham Sullivan?” Carl motioned to the man in the leisure suit beside him.
“Hi Graham.” I shook his hand. “So, you guys enjoying the auction?”
“It’s a nice evening.” Graham spoke without a hint of enjoyment. He had one of those faces that seem carved out of stone. His light blue eyes were almost grey, and his square jaw was tightly clenched.
“Well, I’m afraid this is all a bit much for me.” Carl motioned to the slow-moving crowd and twinkle lights around us as if we were in the middle of a hurricane. “I think I need a nap.”
At five foot six, with a pot belly and balding white hair, Carl wasn’t the picture of vitality. His lack of vigor was less a question of his age than his lifestyle. He was a desk jockey through and through. A lifetime of pounding out stories on old typewriters had taken their toll. But besides his preference for small town news and his occasional absent-mindedness, his writing chops were solid, and his sense of story was better than most.
Carl motioned to Graham. “If you have questions about the auction for your article, Graham is the head organizer. He can fill you in on all the behind-the-scenes drama.”
“Yes.” Graham handed me a business card. “Feel free to call.”
“Great. Thanks.” I gave him a courteous smile, even though I had no intention of calling him. His stern manner sent a clear message that he wouldn’t welcome it. He certainly lacked the energy and enthusiasm I would’ve expected from an event organizer. My guess was he’d rather be home reading technical manuals. Besides, ho
w much “behind-the-scenes drama” could there be at a small town silent auction?
My impulse was to excuse myself right then and there, but I owed it to Carl to at least act the part of a thorough journalist.
“Mr. Sullivan,” I spoke to Graham in a formal tone. “What are the proceeds of the auction going toward?”
“Well, several things.” Graham said. “Storefront renovations, street repair, public building maintenance. That’s where most of the earnings will be allocated.”
Carl gave a slight smile, happy to see his only staff reporter digging into a story.
I nodded at Graham as if his monotone response were riveting. “And do you usually organize auctions and other events like this?”
Graham paused for a moment. “No. Brian Clarkson generally runs the Crystal Park events.”
“Brian Clarkson is the principal at the elementary school,” Carl jumped in. “But you probably already knew that.”
I gave Carl a knowing smirk, even though it was news to me. “So, Brian’s taking a break this year?”
“I figured he might want to,” Graham said. “He’s a busy man, and I thought it was time I gave back to our town.”
“I see.” Something in Graham’s quick answer triggered my reporter instinct that he was glossing over something. “So, was Brian okay with that? I know some people get a little possessive of events they’ve run in the past.”
Graham shook his head. “No, he was fine. He even offered to lend his advice.”
“That’s nice. So, is he passing the torch on to you? Will you be heading these events up from now on?”
He shook his head. “Oh, I don’t think so. More than likely Brian will want to return next year.”
“And is this the first event you’ve overseen?”
He lifted his chin slightly. “I’ve run many similar promotions and events at the theater. Screenings, parties, opening weekends. The same skill set applies.”
Although I had serious doubts on the equivalent skill set, it wasn’t worth tangling over. Besides, it was a small town auction. How difficult could the planning and logistics be?
“Well, thank you for your time.” I flashed his business card before putting it in my pocket. “If I have other questions, I’ll call.”
Graham gave a tight smile. “Of course.”
“Carl,” I nodded at him. “Hope you enjoy the auction.”
“Well,” Carl let out a deep breath as he scanned the festivities. “I think I’ll leave this wild night to you youngsters. I’m gonna place one more bid on that tropical cruise package and call it a night. Looking forward to reading your article.”
“Thanks. Goodnight.” I gave a quick wave before leaving.
I weaved back through the auction tables, looking for Kenny, and spotted him by a cotton candy vendor, intentionally walking Bandit in front of a pretty brunette. She stopped for a brief moment to pet Bandit, then continued on.
Bandit’s ears perked up as I neared them. There you are. I’m hungry and I keep pulling my leash toward food stands, but Kenny isn’t getting the hint. Plus, he keeps pimping me out to women. Help me.
I patted his head. “Hey, buddy. We’ll get some food soon. Okay?”
“How’d it go?” Kenny handed me the leash. “Did he fire you?”
“His only reporter? I don’t think so.”
“Job security. Nice.”
Bandit let out three loud barks. He pulled at his leash, leaning toward a clown walking by. The clown jumped back at the sound, his puffy white gloves held up in surrender. He wore a wig of curly blue hair and an oversized clown jumper with red and white stripes like a circus tent.
“Hey.” The clown spoke in a gravelly, un-clownlike voice. “Get that dog away from me.”
“Sorry about that.” I pulled the leash back.
“Geez,” the clown shook his painted face. “He scared me to death.”
I scared him? Bandit barked. Who’s he kidding? He’s the monster.
“Bandit.” I pointed at him. “No barking.”
I can’t help it. Bandit barked again. Look at him. He’s terrifying.
He’s just a clown.
Look at those big red feet. Bandit growled. How can you not want to bite those?
The clown cursed and walked away from us. “Crazy dog.”
Bandit sent a final bark in his direction. Yeah, you better run.
“Bandit, that’s enough,” I said. “This is a carnival setting. There’s gonna be clowns here. You can’t bark at all of them.”
Watch me.
“You want a hot dog or not?”
Bandit looked up at me with sad puppy eyes. But those big red shoes. So biteable. You did see his shoes, right?
“Bandit?”
He whined. Okay, fine. No more barking at clowns.
“Hey, I’m with Bandit,” Kenny said. “Clowns are creepy.”
“Don’t encourage him,” I said.
The line for the hot dog stand was seven people deep, and only one guy was working the counter. I regretted my hasty promise to Bandit.
I sighed. “Well, this could take a while.”
“Nah, Chet’s working the stand,” Kenny said. “He’s a pro.”
“A pro hot dog vendor?”
“Pro food handler. He works at Fry it and Shake it. Fast but not sloppy. And he doesn’t skimp on the extras, like bacon or avocado.”
“It’s weird that you pay attention to things like that.”
“Hey, it’s a small town, you gotta know where to get the good stuff.”
“You boys causing trouble over here?” asked a familiar voice.
I turned to see my not-so-secret cop crush, Officer Brooke Casey. She was in police uniform, a cup of coffee in her hand. The twinkle lights overhead danced off her deep green eyes. A slight smile hung on her full lips. I wanted to take her hand, forget this whole silent auction nonsense, and drive away to a scenic hillside to watch the stars together.
“Officer Casey.” I tried to keep it cool and relaxed, stuffing down my nerves. “There’s no Kahlua in that coffee, is there? You’re on duty.”
“Psh. I wish. Hey Kenny.”
“Hey Brooke,” Kenny said. “Any perps at the auction tonight?”
“Just you two.” She leaned over and scratched Bandit’s cheek. “Aw, how’s little Bandit doing? You having a good time?”
Bandit tilted his head back to invite further scratching. I would, if Luke would buy me something to eat already. I’m starving.
Oh relax. I frowned at him. I can’t make the line move any faster.
“So, you bid on anything tonight?” I asked.
Brooke straightened. “I can’t tell you. You’ll try to outbid me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, I’m sure your bid for the Crystal Bliss Bakery’s week's supply of donuts is totally safe.”
“Really? Lame cop jokes? That’s what you’re going with?”
“You should walk with us,” I said. “I have more lame jokes.”
“I’m sure you do. It sounds fun but I’m on duty. I need to keep an eye on things.”
“How ‘bout we walk with you. Six eyes are better than two. Plus, I have a K-9 unit.”
Bandit barked. Not until I get my hot dog.
Brooke smiled. “Tempting. But you guys are waiting to eat. I need to keep moving.”
“Why don’t you guys go?” Kenny, in admirable wingman style, took Bandit’s leash from my hand and smiled. “I’ll grab some food for me and Bandit. Then I’ll take him over to the Star Wars table. Have him bark at anyone that tries to outbid me.”
“Really?” I said. “You sure it’s cool?”
“Yeah.” He waved me off. “I’ll catch up with you.”
“Okay. Thanks, man.” I flashed him a genuine smile of gratitude.
He nodded, looking fully aware that I owed him one.
I leaned over and patted Bandit. “See you soon, buddy. Enjoy your hot dog.”
He licked his chops. You k
now I will.
Soon I was strolling through the festivities beside Brooke. The lights and sounds of the park felt distant with her at my side. Everything around me seemed to blur and fade into the background. All was right with the world.
“So,” I said. “Wanna stop by the ring toss? I’ve got skills. I can win you one of those giant teddy bears.”
“I’m on duty. I can’t lug around a huge bear. Besides, you’d lose your money. Those things are rigged.”
“Not rigged, just astronomically bad odds. But for you, I can beat the system. Then you could put him in the passenger seat of your squad car with a badge and a police cap. You can call him Deputy Bearington.”
“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“My mind works fast when I’m with you.”
She smiled, her eyes locked on mine for a moment. “Okay, fine. Win me a bear. If you can. But I’ll have to stand in the distance, keeping an eye on the crowd.”
“You got it.”
“First, I have to swing by Ellie Greyson’s star garnet display. Part of my surveillance.”
“Oh, right. My mom was talking about those. Seems like a pricey auction piece for Crystal Falls.”
She shook her head. “They’re not for auction, only display. Ellie’s a little sketchy about showing them in public, but she thought it might help with attendance and raising money for the town. She usually keeps them in a safe deposit box at the bank.”
“She should surround them with those cool red laser tripwires.”
Brooke chuckled. “Yeah, right. Her Uncle Jacob is keeping an eye on things. He’s a security guard. You’ve probably seen him on Main Street at night.”
“Oh, that guy? Kind of a wanna-be cop, right?”
She gave my arm a playful slap. “Stop it.”
“No, I’ve seen him strutting down the sidewalk in his security uniform, trying to look all tough. It’s hard to take him seriously with that big beer gut.”
“Easy now.” She grinned. “He’s helped us out quite a few times with local break-ins.”
“Well, I don’t think he likes me. Whenever I walk by him he gives me those, “you’re guilty” eyes.”
“Well, you are a journalist.”
“Hey.”
“You started it with the cop jokes.”