Page 21 of Robin and Marian
Tuck smiled, not bothering to answer. “If you crawl away now,” he said, “then you won’t stop Guy. He wants to impress Marian so he can buy her aunty’s mountain for a steal.”
Robin’s breath caught in his throat. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Oh, you didn’t know? Guy got crazy Miranda’s property for as little as $8,000.” Miranda? She wasn’t exactly crazy. Tuck pointed over at her through the arched windows of the cinder block walls. She stood next to her son. Ryan, was it? The years looked like they’d done a number on his physique. “She lives with him now and won’t stop baking. He’s gained fifty pounds. He wants to get her married off. I said you were single.”
“Wait, wait, what?” Robin couldn’t figure out what he was saying. This was all wrong. “Her property was at least worth $350,000, even with the decrease in property value.”
“Nah.” Tuck pulled a few fries from his box. “Guy just bought out everyone’s debts on their property taxes. Then he upped the interest and foreclosed when they couldn’t pay. He’s been kicking everyone out that way.”
Guy hadn’t had the decency to pay full value for these people’s homes? Robin’s heart thudded uncomfortably. Had everyone spilled their guts to Tuck in a matter of an evening or had the self-proclaimed youth pastor planted himself in the courtyard like a fern with ears? “Is this one of your conspiracy theories?” Robin asked.
“Myconspiracy theories?” Tuck looked insulted. “I don’t own them. Old Man Pete—he got himself a shotgun and just sits there on the veranda to keep people off his property. Yeah, he doesn’t trust Guy as far as he can throw him—he feels the same way about you, by the way.” Robin rolled his eyes. Of course he did. “He’s holding out against Guy for now, but taxes are high.”
“Is that whyOld Man Peteis making wagers on how long I’ll last here? He needs the money?”
“Of course,” Tuck said like that was self-explanatory. “Guy’s buying everything up like a Monopoly game. He’s going after the twins’ property next.” Glancing over at Missy and Sean through the holes in the cinderblock wall, Tuck explained, “They like tech.” As if that meant anything. Their family’s restaurant went down, but they still owned most of Main Street. How cheap would they let it go? “The twins might sell if things get too slow in town.”
Now Robin knew what Tuck had been up to all evening—besides the eating—he’d been gathering intel on all Robin’s former investors. For some reason Guy was buying up all of Nottingham. Why?
“The snobs over there—” Tuck pointed to Natalie and Lionel through the window, “don’t like that Guy is new money, so they won’t give him anything. Elinor wants out though—everything reminds her of Tom. Poor Tom. He was a lousy provider. Then there’s Little John. He hates Guy, but…”
“What are you doing?”
Robin looked up at a rough voice and saw Little John bearing down on them both. Immediately he straightened and backed up. As if defying his terrifying looks, John had dressed up in a blue tailored suit and a stylish dress shirt with polka dots. Robin wasn’t supposed to be within ten feet of the giant. It seemed spineless to point that out however. “You spying on people?” John asked. “Is that what this is about?”
“No,” Robin tried to reassure him.
John ignored Robin like he was a whimpering dog and turned to Tuck. “Did you say my name, Pastor?”
Tuck looked thoughtful and wiped bacon grease off his expensive jacket—Robin’s expensive jacket.“I don’t know. What’s your name?”
Shaking his head, Robin tried to diffuse things. “Pastor, let me introduce you to…”
“Don’t talk!” John thrust a finger into his face. “Every person here would pay money to see me tie you into a pretzel.”
“Oh,” Tuck snapped his fingers. “You’reLittle John!”
“I’m notLittleanything!”
“No, he’s not.” Robin didn’t know how to deescalate this.
Tuck looked mildly interested. “You had a thing for his sister Scarlett? That’s why you lost everything. For a girl. She’s pretty, but…”
John sucked in his breath like the Incredible Hulk, his chest expanding so that he looked even bigger. “Robin told you that?”
Robin raised his hands in response. “I did not. Calm down.”
“Calm down?” John kicked a bucket sitting across from the open utility room. The water dumped and the mop flew across the hall. Both Robin and Tuck jumped since this was a common scene triggering a fight in prison. “Calm down when good men have lost their jobs?” John shouted. “Calm down when we’ve lost our homes? And now you’re spying on us? You don’t tell me to calm down. You don’t tell me to do anything anymore!”
Both Robin and Tuck fell silent… until Tuck cleared his throat. Robin’s eyes darted to his wiry friend, trying to think of a way to stop him from saying whatever he was about to say. “I’ll put a hundred down that you can’t take out Robin,” he said in his direct way. “You’re big, but you look slow.”
John’s eyes narrowed on Robin as if he was the one who said it. “Yeah? Skinny white boy thinks he’s all tough because he’s tatted up. That’s what that spade tattoo is, right? The trickster? At least you know what you are. C’mon, you want to take me, don’t you? Let’s do this!”
Convulsively, Robin balled his hand into a fist and he felt the nerve in his wrist jolt in response. He was pretty sure the doctor’s restrictions on his physical activity meant no fights. This wasn’t the place for it anyway and he forced himself to take a step back.
John’s attention drew to the movement. “Oh? You gonna hide behind that brace?” He turned mocking. “You probably set all those men up to go after that teacher, like you did us, like you’ve done your whole life, then took the role as hero. You can’t hide who you are.” He spit in Robin’s face; it was deliberate and messy.
Robin wiped it from his cheek, pushing back his rage. John wasn’t his enemy. The man had no idea what had really happened, though he looked at Robin like he knew. His former friend snorted when Robin didn’t retaliate. “Prison made you a coward.”
