Page 4 of Faking I Do
“Idont is lucky you stepped up. If you hadn’t, can you imagine where we’d be right now without a mayor?” I slowed the truck to make a right.
“Probably annexed into Swynton by now. I’ve heard Mayor Little works fast.”
I’d heard that too, and even experienced it firsthand. The mayor of Swynton had definite ideas about how things should be done. We’d had our fair share of run-ins during the few years I’d been working as deputy sheriff. Mayor Buck Little wasn’t someone to cross.
“Have you had time to think about what you’re going to do yet?” I asked.
“You mean in the fifteen minutes I had in between my dealings with you?” Lacey shook her head, sending her wavy hair bouncing.
I caught a whiff of something flowery. Had to be her. Although I didn’t recall her ever smelling like anything but horses when we were younger. Horses and the butterscotch candy she always seemed to have in her mouth. That’s what earned her the nickname of Sweets in the first place.
“Are you warm enough?”
“No.” She clamped her arms around her middle. “But I’ll be fine. What should we do with Jonah? A little ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine?”
“Sure, I’ll rough him up then you sweet-talk him into going home.” I slid my gaze her way to catch her reaction.
“Really? Does that kind of stuff work?”
“Only on TV.”
She let out a groan. “Maybe I should just let you handle it, then. I can wait in the truck while you take care of Mr. Wylder.”
“And miss out on the fun?” I’d known her all my life and had seen her in action time and again. She’d no more be able to step aside in a moment of crisis than I’d be able to ignore someone purposely breaking the law. The only difference was I got paid to maintain law and order while she spent her life trying to fix things whether it fell within her job description or not.
“Yeah, I suppose I ought to at least try to talk to him.”
“That’s the spirit.” I pulled the truck onto the long, tree-covered drive leading to the warehouse. Once, the land had belonged to the founder of the town, my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. He’d built the giant Victorian house first. When he decided to become a printer, he put up an outbuilding just down the drive. Over the years, the Phillips family had expanded until the outbuilding became the warehouse it was today.
“You mean him and the mob he’s got with him?” I asked.
“What?” Lacey turned toward me. “I can’t imagine Jonah inciting a mob.”
As I eased the truck to a stop, I pointed through the windshield. “Okay, maybe not a mob, but he did bring some friends.”
“Oh, come on. When am I going to catch a break?” She opened the door and climbed down, looking out of place in her slim skirt and blouse among the flannel-and-denim-clad crowd.
I grabbed my hat, prepared to provide backup.
“Well, if it ain’t our new mayor.” Jonah sized her up as she approached. He stood at the front door of the building, layers of metal chains wrapped around his torso.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Wylder?” Lacey offered her hand but must have thought better of it when Jonah struggled to work his arm free to take it.
“For starters, you can reopen the warehouse.” His eyes narrowed. A chorus of encouraging “yeahs” and “that’s rights”floated up from the small crowd. “And then you can give us all a nice, fat raise.”
Lacey crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m afraid I can’t make that happen.”
“Then figure out a way.” Jonah nodded, his head being the only part of his body that he seemed to be able to move.
“Look, Mr. Wylder?—”
“Jonah,” he insisted.
“Okay, Jonah. I’d love nothing more than to open up the warehouse, give all of you your jobs back, and double your pay. But we both know that’s not going to happen.”
“Then I’ll just stay here until you find a way.” Jonah shrugged, making the chains clink together.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, waiting to see how the situation would play out. Lacey looked like she was about to cry. Her bottom lip trembled, and she tightened her grip around her middle. I couldn’t let them get the best of her, not on her second day on the job.
