Page 19 of A Dead End Fourth of July (Tiger’s Eye Mysteries #14)

Jack

It wasn't too bad. Maybe two hours of work on various minor projects, and I took on the bulk of the outdoor stuff with the assistance of my new helper. Oscar talked a mile a minute, but I was used to Shelley, so I mostly just let it go in one ear and out the other.

Tess and Eleanor disappeared into the town hall auditorium to help finish setting up the arts and crafts fair, and Bill walked around helping the folks with food and baked goods booths and stalls where they needed him.

After a while, I gave Oscar some money for lunch and a cold drink and sent him into the auditorium to eat it and cool off. Then, I headed over to the small livestock pavilion at the end of the square and ran across a familiar face.

A familiar bovine face.

She didn’t look happy to see me.

Rooster Jenkins, all seven feet and four hundred pounds of him, ambled over to stand next to me.

"Jack, I don't think that cow likes you."

The cow, her big-eyed stare glued to my face, took a step back.

"I think you might be right, Rooster. Doesn't seem fair, since I saved her from getting run down in the road."

He shrugged his massive shoulders and boomed out a laugh that probably caused a minor earthquake in Daytona Beach. "Cows, my young friend, are not the smartest animals. However, this one has a good sense of self-preservation, and Shelley told me you turned into a tiger to get her moving."

"Well—"

"Do you know the last time that cow saw a tiger?"

"I—"

"That cow never saw a tiger. Now, imagine you're a placid creature just out for a stroll in your own field—"

"In the middle of the road, where a truck could have come around the corner and killed her."

"And a giant, scary predator comes along and roars at her, showing his big, shiny teeth."

"She's twice my size! And she kicked me in the head!" I said indignantly. "I could have had a concussion."

Rooster sized me up. "Seems like a pretty hard head to me, Jack. Now, are you going to stand around giving poor Betsy a hard time, or are you going to help me build the stand for the trophies? These young'uns worked hard raising their piglets and calves, and they deserve their trophies."

"I guess we should build a trophy stand."

But when he turned to lead the way to the tent, I bared my teeth at Betsy.

"Hamburgers are in your future, my friend, if you don't mend your ways. Hamburgers."

By the time we finished up the "few small things," we'd sweated through our T-shirts and headed home to shower, change clothes, and eat a quick lunch of food that wasn't deep fried.

I talked Tess into wearing a pretty sundress, using the Eleanor reasoning, and when we were walking back out to the truck, I felt a moment of vertigo.

Sometimes, I still had a hard time believing this was my life.

Tess, family, and small-town festivals. Sure, there were occasional crimes, but nothing like the life I'd lived for ten long years.

"I'm so lucky," I told her, swinging her up off her feet and kissing the stuffing out of her.

"I … Wow." She smiled at me. "I'm so lucky, too. But what brought that on?"

"All of it. Just all of it."

She hugged me because she understood.

And then we headed back to town to finish up any last-minute chores, help anybody who needed it, and scare the pants off Zane's teenage cousin, who'd planned to take a couple of ten-year-old kids to Orlando on his brand-new driver's license.

Okay, that last thing was all me.

After I found the kid and read him the riot act, I was pretty sure he'd never try anything so foolish again.

Tess, who'd been helping to set up the dunking booth, walked over to me and pointed at the fleeing kid. "What was that about?"

I told her.

"Good job," she said with satisfaction.

"Speaking of Shelley, though, have you seen her?"

"She and Zane are inside putting together their display on the history of Dead End. I bet it's going to be pretty popular."

"Is she leaving out the Fae queen and murders and—"

"Okay, okay," she said, laughing. "The carefully edited history of Dead End. They put all the dark details in the documentary they're working on, though."

We ran into Lauren and the doctor by the funnel cake stand.

"Hey, Tess, Jack. This is Dr. Abby Snow. She decided to take the job!"

Dr. Snow was maybe in her mid-thirties, and she had a wonderful, kind smile that I bet put her patients at ease.

She was pretty in a quiet way, with reddish-brown hair, brown eyes, and golden-brown skin.

In her shorts and short-sleeved cotton shirt, both white, she made an interesting foil to Lauren's red, white, and blue sequined jumpsuit over a rainbow-striped tank top.

"Well, there's a lot of negotiating and paperwork left to go," Dr. Snow said cautiously, but she smiled at us. "It's a bit premature to say I'm taking the job."

"It's okay. Tess is the mayor's niece, like a daughter, really, and Jack is Tess's new husband," Lauren said.

"I won't say a word, but I hope everything works out," Tess said. "And if you move to Dead End, we'll have a welcome barbecue for you at our house, so you can meet lots of new friends."

The doctor's eyes twinkled. "It's hard not to say yes to a town where people want to be my friends right off the bat."

"That's Dead End," Lauren said. "I mean, we're not all this friendly, but it's a pretty good ratio."

"I met a Cletus McKee, who asked me to 'save a dance' for him," the doctor said. "I guess he's in charge of the fireworks?"

Tess sighed. "Let's hope."

We said our goodbyes, stood in line for funnel cakes—the works for me, only powdered sugar for Tess—and then we walked over to the auditorium to tell Shelley and Zane how great their display was, give them cash for food and rides, and wander around to see all the arts and crafts.

That's pretty much how we spent the afternoon.

At around six, Tess grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the food stalls. "I need something more filling than that funnel cake, and I can't believe you're not complaining about being hungry yet, with your appetite."

"I could eat something." I tried to look innocent when she gave me a suspicious look.

"Jack. We haven't been together the whole afternoon. I stopped to talk to a lot of people while you were off wandering. Exactly how many food stalls have you tried out already?"

"Um."

"Jack?"

"Most of them." I grinned at her. "I'm supporting the local economy."

At the hot dog stand, the husband and wife running it, whose names I didn't remember, perked up to see me coming.

"Six more, Jack?" The woman asked cheerfully.

Tess pinned me with an accusing stare. "Six more?"

"I shared them with Rooster!"

She just rolled her eyes. "One for me, with fries, please."

"And four more for me," I said, from behind her. "I'll share her fries."

"No, you will not," Tess told me. "Get your own fries."

I gave the couple a sorrowful look and pulled out my wallet. "Married life can be hard."

The woman burst out laughing. "You never had it so good."

Because she was right, I left a ten in the tip jar.

When we finished eating, I was ready to go stretch out somewhere on the grass and take a nap, but Tess had other ideas.

"We should go see Cletus and make sure everything's all right."

I stared at her. "Why would we do that? He has been nothing but trouble."

"Exactly. The last thing Aunt Ruby needs is more trouble in Dead End. Especially at the Fourth Fest. Let's just go see if he's okay."

But when we got to the fireworks area, carefully cordoned off to keep the kids away from Cletus's van and the tent he'd set up, we heard shouting coming from inside the tent.

"That's Bubba," I said.

"And Lola," Tess said. Then she smacked her forehead. "Why didn't I listen to you?"

"I often ask myself that."

"Oh, hush. Let's rescue Cletus from his family."

Sure enough, when we walked into the tent, we were confronted with the sight of Cletus backed up against the canvas wall by Lola, Bubba, and the giant boa constrictor wrapped around Bubba's neck.

"Why is it always snakes?" I muttered.

Lola never stopped shouting at Cletus, but Bubba whirled around and tossed the snake to Tess.

Things went downhill from there.