CHAPTER TEN

 

During Fence Mending 101, thinking it best for all involved, both human and bovine, I stayed in the truck with Grendel. I just wasn’t cut out for this stuff.

Despite the fact I’d freeze my ass off even more, I rolled down the truck window so I could hear what was going on.

“Howdy, neighbor. I’ll walk out and lure ‘em in with this feed, then we can work on getting the fence squared away,” Don said.

Even though I thought I’d heard Nicky ask his neighbor not to bother meeting us, Don came walking out of the woods carrying a bucket of corn and apparently was ready to lead this operation.

Nicky nodded and began grabbing fence posts and buckets of tools out of the bed of the truck.

Before he was even able to get started on the fence repairs, Don was back…with Beulah and her entourage sauntering along close behind.

A bucket of corn must be their elixir, I thought. Wish it were that simple to coax Nicky to get some words on the page.

Nearing the truck, and waaay too near me, Beulah turned her massive head and gave me what I can only describe as a completely condescending look.

I don’t know why she’d have a beef with me. I didn’t have anything to do with her being tricked back over to the right side of the fence.

As she passed by my window, she gave her tail a casual flick, barely missing my face.

Well, that was rather rude.

I’d assumed Nicky had been exaggerating with his description of this wily bovine, but Beulah was clearly no ordinary cow.

I must say, though, I liked her attitude.

While Nicky and Don dealt with bad ass Beulah and the section of fence she’d annihilated, I needed to get down to business and toss around some major attitude of my own.

And by that, I mean I needed to take charge of this murder investigation.

I’d been a crime thriller editor for going on fifteen years, and I knew my way around, as well as right through the middle of, these investigations. There was a damn good reason I got paid the big bucks. I knew my stuff.

My job as an editor is to make the story as real as real can sound on the page, and that means I’ve spent quality time and done due diligence where homicide investigations are concerned.

Let’s just say that whoever killed Jack Collins had more to worry about than Nicky’s small town Sheriff Deputies.

He…or she…was gonna have to deal with me and my people.

And the perp would be mighty smart to watch his or her ass…’cause I, and perhaps my rather lethal friends, were comin’ for ‘em.

There were very real advantages to being related to the mob.

I didn’t want to have to use those connections, but I certainly would if I had to.

Nicky would shit if I did, but hopefully I wouldn’t have to tell him about that part of my family history.

No one was gonna frame Nicky Blane for this murder.

Now then…

I just had to figure out a way to make good on that promise.

I may not have known my entire strategy, but I sure as hell knew where to start. And that was with Bitchy Betty, Nicky’s Publicist From Hell.

Betty Sneed was just a bitch.

People may think I have a rather hard edge at times, but this girl…oh yeah, she made me look like Glinda the Good Witch.

Hell, she made Beulah and me combined look like total sweethearts.

Grendel let out a large whimper then laid his humongous head across my lap.

See? Even the dog already had Betty figured out. With only my brain waves focused on her supreme nastiness, he could probably sense her darkness closing in. And all I’d done so far was dial the bitch’s cell number.

While I waited for the Queen of No Heart to answer - and yes, it would be a bit because she never answered till you started to leave a message…another one of her twisted psycho games - I watched as Nicky began to repair Beulah’s damage. Fence mending did not look like anything I wanted to be doing anytime soon.

“What do you need, All-Witch? I’m busy. Very, very busy.”

Betty Sneed hissed, her venomous snark probably capable of poisoning a person through the cell towers connecting her calls.

“Well, so am I, Betty Boop. And trust me, unless I needed to call your snotty ass, I wouldn’t.”

I took a deep breath while Grendel’s huge eyes implored me as if to say, “you’re scaring me, and here I thought I liked you.”

I massaged his big goofy head, letting his obvious pleasure at the attention lighten my mood.

“I’m waiting, Aldredge. And I sure as hell don’t have time to be,” Betty snapped.

Even the fact that the phone was cutting in and out here in the middle of the field didn’t hide her contempt.

“How ‘bout you try to find the time then to spin this bit of news I got for ya?” I asked, putting the phone on speaker ‘cause I did not want it next to my ear when I gave her the scoop. “Nicky’s being framed for murder. Jack Collins’ murder.”

“What the…?!”

Her rant continued for at least fifteen seconds.

I extended my arm as far as it could go to quiet the echo ricocheting off every surface of the truck’s cab.

Grendel literally put his two front paws over his ears. Smart dog. I had a feeling he and I were gonna be BFFs. And maybe we’d add Beulah to our posse too.

“Ya done yet?” I asked, having given her an extra ten seconds or so of silence.

But, oh no…no she wasn’t. She was off to the psycho races again.

Yeah…right…I probably shouldn’t have opened up the floor again. Note to self: Even yes-no questions are too much for the Ice Queen. Statements. Yep, where dealing with her was concerned, I needed to stick with statements.

Once she was done screaming, I changed tactics.

“Here’s the deal, Boopsters,” I said, knowing how much she hated the Betty Boop reference, but hey, it wasn’t my fault she looked like her and chose to dress the part too. In my world, if you’re gonna let it all hang out and act like a pig, you ain’t gettin’ respect from me.

But anyhoo…

“You and I both know Nicky didn’t kill Jack…”

Betty started in again about how the hell was she supposed to spin this nightmare and Nicky’s career was over…sooo over…and on and on and on…

“But guess what, Betty?” I asked, interrupting her, and this time the poison was being slung from my end, not hers. “Nicky didn’t do it. But I have a hunch you certainly know who did.”

That shut her up.

“What? Your cell is breaking up. I can’t hear you,” she said, her voice suddenly, oddly, not quite as bitchy.

“You heard me, Bad Ass Boop. Don’t play games with me. You picked the wrong chick to tangle with.”

And with that golden nugget, I hung up on her.

Okay then…

I could mark that off my list of To Do’s.

I had The Boop right where I wanted her.

On her broom. Flying scared.

Now I needed to become great friends with our local Sheriff’s Department. But it looked like that would have to wait till Nicky and Don took care of the fence issue.

“You taking notes, Sam? I may need your help next time Beulah gets a burr up her butt,” Nicky shouted out to me while beating the hell out of a fence post with Don’s post driver.

Damn. I couldn’t imagine that thing slamming down on a human head. Ouch.

Before I could spend any more time recreating what could have been Jack’s final moments, Grendel sprung off my lap and began barking like a crazed lunatic.

What I wouldn’t give to send him after Bitchy Betty.

But in the meantime, perhaps I wouldn’t have to wait as long as I thought to buddy up to our donut boys.

Sweet.

Coming at us from across the field was what looked to be an unmarked SUV squad. The only reason I knew it was from The Department was because the bright sun was bouncing off the light bar across the windshield and also reflecting off the shiny brass on the occupant’s uniform.

Looks like I’d be able to put my plan into action sooner than I’d thought.

Good…’cause our stiff might have started out on ice, but this investigation was about to heat up. And that didn’t mean anything good would come out of it for Nicky.

Not unless I did what I do best…

Work every damn angle I can and make every detail count.

I know what makes a good story, and I know how to spin my own yarns too.

Nicky’s well-being depended on it.