Page 23 of A Spot of Trouble
“My phone has been ringing off the hook all morning with complaints.” Chief Murray pointed a beefy finger at Sam. “About you.”
Right on cue, the red rotary telephone on the chief’s desk let out a piercing jingle. Murray closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Cinder cocked her head at the ringing sound.
Murray picked up the phone. “TBFD, Chief Murray speaking.”
Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“Yes, I’m aware that bingo was shut down,” the chief said. “It was a mistake, and I apologize. As you know, Marshal Nash is new in town, and he just got a little overeager. We’ll make it up to you.”
The chief paused, then glanced up at Sam. “Actually, Nash himself will make it up to you. You have my word.”
Sam’s chest felt weighted down all of a sudden, as if he was being crushed by an elephant…or perhaps the antiquated expectations of a tiny beach town.
“Tomorrow at ten o’clock. He’ll be there. I promise.” Chief Murray slammed the phone back down on the receiver.
“Who was that?” Sam asked.
Anyone buther. Please.
If Sam’s boss was going to make him grovel to every bingo-loving elderly resident of Turtle Beach, he would. But he drew the line at apologizing to Violet.
Not that she would let him, anyway. He’d tried to help her get inside the senior center with her giant tray of cupcakes and look how that had turned out. They’d practically short-circuited the automatic doors.
“That was the director of the Turtle Beach Senior Living Center. She wanted to remind me that the proceeds from bingo night go toward the Turtle Beach Preservation Society. The residents are very upset. They’ve been saving up to donate more park benches up and down the dog beach.” Murray cast a pointed glance at Cinder. “I would think that would be a project you could get on board with.”
“It is.” Sam nodded, even though he still couldn’t quite work out how the lack of seating at the dog beach was his fault when he’d only been doing his job.
“Good. It’s all settled—you’re to go over there tomorrow morning and make things right.” Murray waved toward the door. “Now get out of my office and try not to cause any more trouble, would you?”
“Um.” Sam frowned. “How exactly am I supposed to make things right?”
“How should I know? You created this mess, and now you’re going to fix it. Is that clear?”
Sam nodded.
Clear as mud.
He turned to go, but Murray stopped him as Cinder scrambled to her feet.
“If I were you, I’d take that Dalmatian with you when you go. All the residents over there are dog crazy. Didn’t you say Cinder could do special tricks?”
“I said she’s trained to do fire safety demonstrations,” Sam countered.
“Good. Do that. They’ll love it. Just make it cute, okay? You need to charm the socks off of those retirees. Understood?” Chief Murray said. The red phone on his desk started ringing again, and the chief groaned.
Make it cute.Somehow Sam had missed that part of the fire code.
“Understood.”
Chapter 6
Thankgoodness for small-town gossip,Violet thought as she heaved a heavy plastic tub out of her cupcake truck the following morning and carried it toward the entrance to the senior center.
In the past, she hadn’t been much of a fan of the rumor mill—particularly after the big humiliating breakup with Emmett. Trying to hold her head up high when everyone in town knew that she’d been duped hadnotbeen fun. But today she was singing a different tune.
Yesterday evening, she’d taken Sprinkles to the dog beach, where she’d crossed paths with Hoyt Hooper, Jr. and his aging Golden Retriever. Hoyt’s father—the original Hoyt Hooper, resident and current bingo caller at the senior center—heard via the senior center’s head chef that everyone in town had bombarded Chief Murray with complaints about bingo night being called off. Hoyt Jr. insisted that Sam had been ordered to apologize to the residentsin personat ten in the morning…
Which just so happened to overlap nicely with Violet’s 9:30 a.m. yoga class.
