Page 78 of Robin and Marian
As soon as they returned to the docking area for the floats, Marian and Robin were hounded on all sides by people who needed their help. They immediately had to report for work at the booth for Ye Olde Turkey Drumstiks and neither of them could escape to figure out what was happening. By the time Robin got away, it was too late, and he returned shaking his head. “They’re gone. I don’t know what that was. I’ll just ask him when I see him.”
And they would be wracked with questions in the meantime. The lines at Ye Olde Turkey Drumstiks made a steady stream of people that stretched around the corner. It wasn’t the only booth to attract that kind of attention. The crowds kept growing to the point where everyone was brushing elbows. If opening day was any indication, Little John’s Mayfair was a success.
“Psst.” Tuck pushed his way to the front and leaned forward, pressing his scrawny arms against the counter. His ragged, faded black Henley showed the top of his cross on his hairy chest. Marian reluctantly lent him her ear, not sure if she should. “I want you to check your phones,” he said.
Why? There wasn’t service; but at his insistence, she went to her purse. It was still tucked inside… out of force of habit, not because it had ever worked during her whole stay there. But when she saw all four bars lit up, she gasped. They had service. Tuck was truly magical. “How did you do this?”
“Well…” He smiled broadly.
As he did so, Old Man Pete swaggered over to give her a grin that matched Tuck’s. His military tactic clothes were all muddy and he wiped a shaking hand under his nose. “It was basic tactical warfare,” the man said. “Take out the enemy’s communication. I learned that in the war.”
“Wait,” Marian said. “Someone took out the cell towers? Who did that? You? Guy?”
Old Man Pete looked insulted when she said “Guy,” and Tuck laid a reassuring hand on his arm as he blustered how little Guy knew. “Let’s just say,” Tuck said, “that no matter the perpetrator, Pete put the towers back up. The point is that… I need you to use my new app that we invented so we can get rid of these lines of customers. We want people to order and pay for their food on it and then go to the other booths and spend money while they wait for their order to be ready. Capisci?”
“Oh!” Marian quickly followed Tuck’s directions as she uploaded the app, leaving Robin and a few teenagers to fill the orders for now.
Robin lifted a brow at her in a classic, “drowning over here” look before he caught sight of Tuck and rushed forward. “Where have you been? So, did you, uh…” He glanced over at Old Man Pete. “Did you talk to who you were supposed to talk to?”
Tuck nudged Old Man Pete. “You’re not gonna sell to Guy, right?”
Pete relapsed into that sailor-blushing talk that he did, which pretty much answered Robin’s question. “Yeah, Yeah,” Robin said, “but what about the twins?”
“Uh, we might’ve talked about it. We’ve been busy.” He waved them over. Little Missy and Sean Brandon looked like miniature FBI agents in their matching black ties and slacks. They were full of excited energy. Peering down the row of food trucks and booths, Marian saw that they had implemented the app there as well. Ye Olde Turkey Drumstiks was just next on their checklist.
They came over, but instead of asking them to forget selling their land to Guy, Tuck gave the twins last-minute instructions to put up a sign directing the people in the line to upload the app on their phones. Then they were supposed to go through the group to make sure no one cut. “You made an app with the twins?” Robin asked.
Marian was fascinated. “But… but… how did you find the time… to do this?”
Tuck shrugged. “Do you realize how much more time you have when you don’t sleep?”
And the twins were all-in! There was no way they were defecting to Guy now. Tuck was Robin’s best weapon, though hedidreturn for an extra drumstik, completely cutting in line and “forgetting” to pay. She didn’t complain, though Robin dida lot. His nerves were taut after seeing Alan with Jana. “I don’t get it,” he said. “What’s he doing with her?”
“Maybe he’s trying to gain her trust?” It seemed naïve, but until they knew anything, they could only torture themselves with worst case scenarios. Robin busied himself in the back while the teenagers took the front. Marian watched him the whole time—the way he interacted with the other workers in the booth and with the people in the town, laughing and joking—she was trying to figure out the man she’d given her heart. He was great with the teens and with his Uncle Midge. He’d literally turned the other cheek when Sierra had slapped him for changing her tire. Maybe she couldn’t control his recklessness, but did she want that? He was a good man.
She pulled more turkey legs from the cooler and put them on the grill. While she did so, she heard the teenagers at the counter deny ever seeing Robin.In their lives.
Her head shot up at that, and she listened to the answering voice. It was the sheriff. “I know that he’s here. If you don’t give him up, I’ll take you instead. How about that?”
“For what?” the boy asked with a mouthful of braces.
“Obstruction of justice. Tell him I want to talk to him!”
It was sweet—they were trying to protect their local outlaw—but this could have something to do with Scarlett’s case. She stuck her head out the window. “What do you need, sheriff?”
He wasn’t amused. His hands were on the hips of his low-riding suit pants now, and his stomach bulged over his belt as he pushed his way forward. “I’ll take an order of ‘Get Robin Out Here Before I Arrest Him,’ please.”
Robin was at the sheriff’s side in an instant. “What do you need?”
The sheriff jumped and swiveled. “It’s about time! I talked to Guy today.” He glanced over at the teenagers and they retreated to the grill at his stern look. The sheriff’s voice lowered, “He made a complaint against you, so now it’s your turn to shoot another one off, right? You got any more gut instincts that I need to investigate? I can just be the playground supervisor and rush between the two of you all day, taking notes.”Someone was in a mood.
Taking a deep breath, Robin hit the counter. “I need you to take this seriously. This is my sister’s life we’re talking about.”
“I am,” the sheriff said. “But I also need your word that you aren’t attempting to transact business deals with former investors and business owners.” Robin’s eyebrows lifted and he indicated the sign for Ye Olde Turkey Drumstiks—likely hoping that this would get him out of volunteering. The sheriff modified his instructions. “Besides taking jobs that no one cares about, okay? Just until your parole is up. You do anything, and I’ll have no choice but to escort you from the premises here.” His voice softened, “I’m not the only one watching. You understand?”
Guy was looking to trip Robin up. Robin licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah.”
As soon as the next shift came to relieve them at Ye Olde Turkey Drumstik, Robin went to the sink to wash the grease off his hands, taking special care around his cast. They’d worked the booth late into the afternoon, and he’d been impatient to leave the moment he’d seen Alan talking to Jana. What was he up to? After considering the angles, he decided it was most likely that Alan was trying to infiltrate enemy lines—his heart was in the right place, but it was a stupid move. Guy had already tried to frame him. Alan couldn’t afford to get in deeper. But there was another possibility too, one that kept invading Robin’s mind the more he tried to push it out. What if everything they’d found against his best friend was true?
