Page 127 of Rest In Pink

Chapter Sixty-Four

I left Liz and Peri sleeping—they’d had a hard day yesterday—and headed into town.

The bullet in my vest, the fact Mickey had admitted to killing Thacker, and the explosions and fires he’d initiated made self-defense for Liz a foregone conclusion. Once more, the long hand of Senator Wilcox, via Mayor O’Toole, had reached out before yesterday was done and the DA was willing to write off on the case as justified self-defense. The fact the Senator cared about Mickey Pitts and Cleve Blue was something that meant this entire affair wasn’t closed for me.

The explosions were going to take longer to fix. Mickey had done a lot of damage. Navy’s house was a complete loss. Rain had gotten Molly out of ML’s house after seeing the det cord and now it was down to the foundation. MB’s empty house was a complete loss.

Mickey had misjudged Cleve Blue. His bomb and accelerant worked fine, but Cleve had put a sprinkler system in the mansion, perhaps subconsciously fearing that one day noted arsonist Mickey Pitts might come hunting for him once he got out of prison and his five hundred thousand wasn’t there for him. The sprinklers soaked all the furniture, but that was fine by Anemone, who according to Liz, had hated all of it. Peri had thought all the water coming from the ceilings was great fun as they hustled out of the house. The big thing was everybody was alive and unhurt.

Well, not everybody. My chest hurt, just as I expected, since this wasn’t the first time I’d been shot while wearing a vest. I was going to have to be careful, particularly around Liz as she’s rather energetic in certain areas of our relationship. And the fact that she had shot a man, even though he was a bad man, was going to hit home in the coming days. If there’s one thing Liz is great at, it’s guilt.

Actually, she’s great at most things. She’s a woman in a million.

Now all I had to do was convince her that she wasmywoman in a million.

I pulled into the parking lot of the Shady Rest and the others were already there. George with his cowboy boots was chatting with Jason and Will. Ken and Imani were off to the side talking. Ken had signed on with ECOmena and between the two of them, the future of Burney’s real estate was in good hands.

Or so I thought.

Everyone gathered round my Gladiator as I turned off the engine.

“I told Jason we’ve cleared the crime scene,” George told me as I got out.

Jason’s crew was already at work. They were taking the place down to the studs and rebuilding. “That’s good.”

Ken, who should have been smiling at his new arrangement, wasn’t. Imani looked pretty grim also, but I didn’t know her well enough to be sure.

Ken explained why. “The paperwork for the ferry and the dock has been approved by the state.”

Imani amplified that. “That means the development is green-lit all the way. Also, several of the contingent sales to Vermillion have gone through.”

“Right now,” Ken said, “we’re working to convince those who want to sell, to do so to us. Upping the offers.”

I nodded. “All right.” I hadn’t expected cheering or accolades for Mickey Pitts being taken off the playing field, but these people had bigger things on their minds. Like saving the town.

Even Will had bigger things, but his was good news.

“I’ve been talking to Jason,” he said. “Showed him some of the plans Patsy and I have drawn up for the additional bays and the new restoration garage. He knows an architect who can finalize them and says he’s found enough people willing to work that can do the job in addition to what ECOmena has planned.”

“Actually,” Imani said, “ECOmena is more than willing to help Porters Garage and Restoration financially. We’ve seen the inventory Mr. Porter has already on the lot and are very impressed. His reputation in the area is sterling.”

It was strange to hear Will called Mr. Porter. Especially since that also covered Ken. And Cash, which might be why he came driving down the street in his big shiny car right then. With Franco Sandusky, aka Meathead, Senator Wilcox’s lawyer/henchman in the passenger seat. As they went by, we spotted Mayor O’Toole and Detective Bartlett in the back seat, both pointedly not looking our way.

Not Franco. He gave us the direct stare and a cold smile curled his lips.

“That isn’t good,” George said.

“Well,” I said. “At least we know who is on what side.” I looked at those around me and felt confident we had a good team on our side.

The group broke up. Ken and Imani off to wheel and deal. Will and Jason getting in Will’s truck to go look at the garage and dream of the future. George was left standing there, looking morose.

“Mickey Pitts is actually in bad shape,” George said.

“Really?”

“One of the bullets is near his spine and the doctors are afraid to remove it or else he’ll end up in a wheelchair the rest of his life.”

“And that’s a problem, why?” I said, sparing no sympathy for him. “I want to talk to him. He’s got a few secrets we need to know.”