Page 40 of Kandie Shoppe

“But the Loves own it now,” I tried to press him.

“Yeah, but they all own it, not one person. One person is not lording over everyone else, trying to bend them to their will.” He gave me a hard look, letting that sink in.

It made perfect sense then, and it does now. Why some folk in my family insist on this fruitless cause of trying to get the land back into Shelby's hands seems so ridiculous to me.

“You’re making us all look bad taking up with the town drunk, but I guess that’s an apple tree like thing. How is Marlene these days, anyway?” Mouth dripping acid, she tilts her head to the side with false concern.

“Goodbye, Clara.” I turn from her before I snap her fucking neck.

Heading deeper into the throng, I pivot at the shriek of “Santiago,” and a rush of people over to the rockstar whodecided to extend his stay in town. We had to make extra patrols around the property he was renting the first few days to keep the lookie-loos out so that man could have some peace.

He’d won everyone over by making sure local coffee and baked goods were supplied for our efforts. It wasn’t like there’s a whole lot to do except on weekend nights when the bars and juke joints let out.

Watching Santiago and Mrs. Howard make speeches about how he’s doing as an artist in residence at our new Creative Chaos sponsored creative arts center draws a huge cheer from the assembled crowd. I see Krie clapping amongst the crowd and don’t miss the hard look on Takeda’s face as he watches her. Everyone is delighted with the news. Making a mental note to meet with them about more security, I move further through the market festival. Underage drinking and vaping are the main illegal activities at these events, so I keep my eyes out for that.

“Hey, stranger,” comes the honeyed tones of LaShaun Montgomery, my once lover.

“Hey, yourself.” The corner of my mouth kicks up. Good pussy needs to be acknowledged, and this girl had some.

“When you coming by to see me?” she asks in that teasing way she does. Once her divorce was final, she didn’t hesitate to seek me out and let me know she was more than happy to feed me and throw in a little fucking if I was so obliged and I was. We had a good thing, but neither of us wanted anything permanent.

“Not anytime soon, darling,” I tell her matter-of-factly, watching her umber eyes widen before an arched brow and cocky grin spreads across her lush lips.

“Oh, so it’s true, you’re back with old girl?” I nod, not bothering to say we were never together like that is mute. This town has made up its own lore about me and Kandie since that all too brief visit.

“Well, if I thought she was the sharing type, I would tell you to invite her along. See ya around, Sheriff.” Before I can get a word out, she launches herself into my arms.

“Thanks for being there when I needed you,” she whispers, pressing a light kiss on my lips.

I don’t respond. I can’t because in that moment I’m looking into the furious eyes of Kandie Love.

She’s too far away, but I can sense her rage as she watches us until LaShaun releases me, steps away, and waves.

My gaze swings between the women for the rest of the few hours of the market festival. As the night looms and fireflies start to light the sky, the smell of honeysuckle is thick in the air. Kandie is giving away the treats she didn’t sell as Krie packs up plates for her staff and other vendors who didn’t get a chance to eat.

Kandie’s tossing back her flask bejeweled with pink crystals. After she takes a healthy swig, she looks over to me. This time, she acts like she’s looking through me. No, she’s looking past me. Turning, I see she’s watching LaShaun make her way over to her van. Her kids are piling in and she gives me a wave when she sees me looking in her direction.

Throwing my hand up, I turn back to Kandie, but she’s busy breaking down her kiosk. All the snacks are gone, and she makes quick work of the task. I can’t help but look at the way her thick thighs flex from the work she’s doing.

Her cousins, Nebraska and his brother Oz, load the tents, stands, and sundries into Pa-Pete’s truck. Instead of one of them driving it, that menace Oz hands her the keys before pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

Tossing the keys up in the air with one hand in a nonchalant manner, she turns to me, blowing a big bubble of gum before letting it pop as she saunters over to The Shack’s tent, leaning in to chat with Ms. Queen.

She has on a tiny ass pair of Daisy Dukes that ride up her juicy ass, showing the underside of her cheeks tempting every swinging dick in the vicinity. I catch several heads on swivel for the view as she idly kicks the dirt scuffing her boots. The plaid shirt she wears pulls tight against her back as she leans further, laughing at something Ms. Queen says. She nods, taking a large bottle, which can’t be anything but moonshine from the mason jar it comes in and the clearness of the liquid. I watch as they talk more. Ms. Queen gives her a puzzled look, then goes to the back of the tent. When she returns, she hands Kandie a funnel and a longer empty liquor bottle.

Kandie gets busy redistributing the liquor from the jar to the bottle. Why, I don’t know when she’s doing this very illegal activity in front of the law — me, like a big fuck you. She corks the bottle then leans over, giving her friend a hug before heading back to where the stall has been broken down.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Mr. Lemonhopper calls, getting my attention just as I’m about to head her off before she tries to take the wheel of that truck. For all I know, she’s been sipping off that flask all day, not to mention how many times she’s had it refilled by her local enablers. Sharing a drink is as common around here as a hug. She wouldn’t have any problem being topped off by friends and family — hell, even enemies.

“Yes, sir?” I call, turning to the tall dark-skinned man waving me over. Heading over in his direction, I notice immediately what he wants. There’s a scuffle between some local boys.

Territorial over shit that doesn’t even belong to them. There is a faction from the elite Shelby Academy in a tussle with some of the kids from the public Shelby-Love High School. The public school is a mix of all kids from the all over community while the Shelby Academy is exclusively white.

It takes me and along with several of the local men to break the squabble up. Making note to set up the community service sothey will be forced to work together. I’m in the middle of calling parents when a huge whoosh goes up just as flames shoot up to the sky.

“It’s on the south lot,” Mr. Lemmonhopper shouts, starting out in a full out run the defies the man’s age of at least seventy.

I take off behind him, stopping short when he hits the back lot. Pulling to a stop, I watch the bed of my truck going up in flames. Men rush past me with buckets filled with water from the nearby well and the reserve we keep for wildfires in the park. Grabbing one, I help them douse my truck.

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