Page 19 of Hot to Trot

"What would it matter? You can't see them, can you?" Meg drawled.

Kate narrowed her eyes. "Just because you can't see something doesn't mean you don't want it painted bada-bing cherry, smartypants."

Meg took a swig of water and sauntered off to get on camera. The van that had pulled up moments ago already had a reporter and cameraman in place. She turned and said very seriously, "Spoken like a true romantic."

"I can't believeyoucalledmeromantic. I'm not the one who wore a Victorian gown on a picnic with Bubba Malone," Kate said.

Meg scratched her forehead with the very same finger depicted on the front of her T-shirt. Kate rolled her eyes and toddled down the steps leading to the brick street of the townsquare. The Curlique hair salon sat several businesses down from the library. Scarlet half wished she could head over and put her feet up. too. The sweat rolling down her back caused her tank top to cling a bit too provocatively. She needed to fall into an ice bath or stand beneath a glacier waterfall. Or maybe fall into a snowbank and make snow angels or-

"Hey, Scarlet." Brent snapped his fingers.

"Huh?"

"Where did you go? You looked miles away and your sign hit Mrs. Monk in the head." Brent toted the largest sign of the protestors. It read Censorship Kills Democracy in bold red-and-blue letters. Honestly, the protest couldn't get much more Americana. Citizens who cared were protecting the rights granted by the U.S. Constitution.

Scarlet turned to Betty. "Sorry, I got caught up in imagining a blizzard sweeping through."

Betty waved off her apology. "Share it with me. I'm sweating like a preacher on revival night with not soul saved."

Brent nodded toward the opening library door. "Speaking of deacons."

"I wasn't-" Betty's words died as all eyes shifted to the front of the building. A hush descended over the crowd as Harvey Primm emerged from the one-hundred-and-twenty-year old cypress door of the library. In his hand, he bore two books. He paused, taking in the crowd before him. It seemed as if he savored the moment, soaking up the power or the glory or whatever he imagined he received in the face of carrying out the removal of the book. Slowly, he walked down the wooden stairs toward Scarlet and the rest of the protestors where they stood in a circle around the flagpole.

Scarlet girded herself with both the sign and a vow not to sink to the man's level. But he didn't pause in front of her. Instead he bypassed them with a small smirk playing about his mouth andstopped in the center of the walk. Scarlet's trained eye caught the man's intention. His spare figure, clad in somber black, would be framed by the American flag hanging limply in front of the stately building. The staging was perfect for the cameras.

"You see this book?" Harvey called out, hushing the sudden burst of chatter sparked by his descent. He lifted the copy ofThe Magpie's Jewelinto the air. The black bird on the cover swooped in his hand, as if it were in actual flight. "Make no mistake, my neighbors, this book is the handiwork of the devil. It does not belong on the shelf where innocent children can read of witches, spells, and dark wizards. Where our precious ones can be preyed upon by the evil power that seeks to grab hold and make mischief. This town is a fine upstanding community, and we pride ourselves in teaching our children to turn away from evil."

With that declaration, Harvey threw the book upon the ground. ''And instead seek this book."

Harvey raised his left hand, which clasped a copy of the Holy Bible.

"Amen!" someone called out as several people standing around clapped their approval.

Scarlet shoved her sign into Brent's hand and scrambled in front of Harvey. She lifted the discarded book from where it fell and waved it. Anger, fast and furious, gathered in her belly and flooded her. How could he? How could this man use the Bible to manipulate those around him? "Have you even read this book?"

Harvey glared at her. "I don't have to see evil to know it exists, young lady. You will do well to heed the power of Satan."

"This isn't about religion. It's about censorship. About refusing citizens the right to make their own choices. This is America, not some Fascist country. Parents have the right to decide for their own children what they can read."

Several members of the crowd pressed toward where she and Harvey faced off. Scarlet felt Brent move behind her. She also noted Adam heading her way.

"Are you accusing me of being a Fascist?” Harvey cried. "You're a presumptuous, misguided fool. This is about protecting our community and children from filth."

Scarlet shook the book. "This is not filth. It's a book about good overcoming evil, about sacrifice and love. You are making this about religion. It has nothing to do with faith, you old crackpot!"

A woman at her elbow hissed. "How dare you call him such a name. You're nothing but a heathen, prancing around on the television set with no clothes on. You aren't fit to breathe the same air as Brother Primm."

The woman tugged at Scarlet's arm.

"Don't touch me." Scarlet got the words out from between gritted teeth, pulling away from the older woman's grip. But the woman was country strong. She held fast and tugged Scarlet away from the smirking Primm. Even as her feet slid on the smooth concrete of the walk, Scarlet knew she'd played into the man's hands.

Someone else grabbed at her hair, but Brent pushed the angry hands away and pulled her to his side. "Enough."

Her brother-in-law's words fell on deaf ears. Before Scarlet could tell Brent to jump in a lake because she didn't need his help, a scuffle broke out between one of the protestors and what was obviously Harvey's hoodwinked sheep. Several women shrieked as two men struggled over one of the placards Betty had been toting.

A sharp whistle pierced the air. Once. Twice. Three times. Then the siren from the police car wailed.

Several people tussling over the signs broke apart and moved to the perimeter. Harvey watched the ongoings with satisfaction.

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