Page 29 of Rest In Pink

I looked at Vince.

He had that look in his eye.

“Don’t kill anybody,” I told him. “I don’t do conjugal visits.”

He ignored me and started to move toward Thacker and the new guy.

Chapter Twelve

Cash was bad, but Thacker was worse, and Bartlett right behind him was definitely off. As if the last two had come together, then tried to enter separately, but Bartlett was too anxious to wait more than a second.

The dumbass was talking to Thacker.

George was at my side. “Easy, Vince.”

But I wasn’t the problem, nor was Thacker the reason I got up. I’d watched Cash go from charming to furious in a flash, but after this morning’s post, I couldn’t much blame him. He started toward Thacker. Bartlett showed his lack of experience by trying to get in the way, raising one hand and saying, “Oh, hey, now.”

Yeah, that was gonna be a help.

Cash plowed right through Bartlett on the way to Thacker. My fellow detective’s sacrifice did gain me a second as I went after Cash. It wasn’t enough as Cash threw a right hook. Surprisingly, Thacker seemed to have anticipated it and ducked, the fist whiffing over his head as he hit Cash in the stomach with two quick jabs, indicating this wasn’t his first bar fight.

But Cash had been drinking and the punches elicited a spew of vomit all over Thacker and Bartlett, who was trying to get off the floor. I stopped abruptly and met Thacker’s eyes. He smiled and I realized this wasn’t a guy to mess with lightly.

Unfortunately for him, Cash’s rage matched Thacker’s experience. Cash reverted to his high school football days and slammed his shoulder into Thacker’s gut and drove him back, smacking him onto a table where five county workers, who had no idea who was fighting who or why, were sitting. All they knew was the instinctive manly man reaction to a fight that knocks over your beer, which was to join in. Three of them turned toward Cash while the other two focused on Thacker.

“Police! Stop!” I shouted, knowing it was, of course, past the point of no return and as effective as Bartlett’s ‘oh, hey now’, but it was fair warning in front of the mayor and now I was able to lay waste.

Which was good because that’s when Cash turned and swung at me, the dumbass. He was slow and instead of dodging it, I let his fist breeze my cheek because that made it battery. I punched him once, hard, an abrupt strike, right in those pretty boy lips. I’d wanted to ever since I’d met him, and blood spurted and he went down.

Then the county guys started toward me since I’d taken out their objective.

And George was at my side. I glanced at him and he nodded, a fire in his eyes I hadn’t seen before.

Then Mac was behind me, saying cheerfully, “Who do I hit first?” and we waded into the real fight.

WEDNESDAY

Posted on BurneyCommunityNews on Facebook, Wednesday 9AM:

We have our problem solved with the help of Burney PD Detective Brandon Bartlett, who has made sure our Facebook page is now secure. Who knew all we had to do was turn the computer off and on again? Also, our Page Administrator, MaryLou Blue, has asked me to postagainthat anyone wishing to donate to the legal defense fund of MaryLou Blue can go to her page at GoFundMe.

Thank you, Faye Blue, Page Administrator Pro Tem

Posted on BurneyCommunityNews on Facebook, Wednesday 9:15 AM

THERE’S TROUBLE RIGHT HERE IN BURNEY VILLAGE

Your intrepid truth-seeker brutally attacked! An unprovoked assault on yours truly by recent widower Cash Porter turned into a public brawl at JB’s Bar involving honest Chief George Pens, dour Detective Vince Cooper, feisty firefighter Mac Blake, and brave Detective Brandon Bartlett who sacrificed his shirt for yours truly. What’s behind all this? Maybe Cash Porter doesn’t like it that I’m talking about that big Vermillion Inc. development he's fronting south of the town? And who is he fronting for? The mayor is pretty invested in that development, too. Maybe that’s why he’s planning to fire Chief Pens, a good man in a fist fight and a stalwart defender of our town.

Stay tuned for the shocking answers and more thought-provoking questions. Go to BurneySecrets&Lies at ThomasThacker.online and pre-order the forthcoming tell-all e-book on Burney and all its dark secrets. You will not be disappointed.

Chapter Thirteen

I came to breakfast after spending my night alone because Vince had to do all the paperwork for the arrests because Steve Crider had yesterday off and evidently Brandon Bartlett can’t type. I’d run my five miles and it hadn’t helped, especially that last stretch up the hill because the charge had gone out on my phone, so I had to do it in silence, and the whole fiasco had been a tragic waste of black stockings with red bows. I was going to hold that against Bartlett and Cash and Thacker and everybody else who had ruined my stocking-bondage evening. Just so they knew it, I was wearing myLook Both Ways Before You Cross Met-shirt.

Anemone and Peri were at the breakfast table having a serious discussion about something, or at least Peri was; Anemone looked like she was holding her head together with her hands, but she was capable of saying, “Good point, dear,” and “Oh, I think so, too,” which is all Peri really needed.

“Good morning,” I said, trying for “cheerful” and evidently just getting “loud” because Anemone winced and glared at me. “Good time with George last night after he went all macho on Thacker?”

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