Page 4 of Executing Malice

I was confused by the sight of him the first few times, too, but it’s been a few months now. The novelty should have worn off. The guy clearly isn’t going anywhere. I know because I watched Dolores and company harass him every day for weeks before changing tactics. This is their next attempt; badger the shops along the hub to get Sheriff Brewer to remove him. Enough complaints and he will submit to public pressure. We all know it.

And if that doesn’t work, if Brewer ignores the people’s cry for change, they will take matters into their own hands. Community justice. Whatever force necessary will be executed to clean the stain from our streets.

This isn’t our first rodeo.

Or our first forcible removal.

It’s just another day in Jefferson.

“If we ignore this blatant disrespect now, what will this teach our children? Where will this lead?”

“Hopefully to you shutting your mouth.” Sheila mutters, giving Dolores a disgusted scowl. “Don’t you have a baby to sacrifice in your cauldron?”

I am not quick enough to hide the disappearance of my eyebrows vanishing up into my hairline.

Oh shit,I think, slightly impressed by the balls. I could never. I mean, I could, but Mom would kill me physically right after Dolores finishes me off socially.

Dolores ceases her attempts to do the Lord’s work by convincing the only two people — myself not included — in the bank and fixes her wide, crazy eyes on the woman at my counter. Her thin lips pinch, disapproval twisting with her hatred.

“Sheila Pavlova, I understand that perhaps your God is lax on such bad behavior, but mine says it’s our job to defend our young.”

“From what? He’s not the only person with a motorcycle.”

“Everyone else knows the rules,” Viola snips sharply. “They don’t distract the entire community with their noise.”

I forget what I was doing as I watch the four rival grandmothers square off. Despite being outnumbered, Sheila does not back down. Her expression is one of impatience anddisgust as she stares into the face of her childhood nemesis. Their hatred started in the classroom over a boy — according to legend — and hasn’t stopped since.

“But you can disrupt our peace with your noise?” Sheila rolls her eyes and turns back to me, but not before throwing over her shoulder, “Always such a hypocrite.”

I am stunned.

I might also be a little in love with the seventy-year-old grandmother of twelve. But I am also a professional and thus, must maintain a level of professionalism I am currently struggling with while I watch Dolores’s sharply angled features ripen to a deep plum.

“I think we’re all done here,” I chirp in my bestI’m deaf and blind and not a part of this conversationcustomer service voice.

Sheila gives me a brisk nod, takes her slip and starts for the trio guarding the door.

I might be going to hell for thinking it, but I would pay big money to see Sheila clock Dolores. I definitely think it’s going to happen the way the three refuse to move and Sheila keeps walking until her toes bump the other woman’s. It’s almost amusing the way Irene and Viola cast their leader uncertain glances, like they also aren’t sure what to do.

“I wish you a blessed day, Sheila,” Dolores purrs with a sickly-sweet drawl that makes my skin itch.

Sheila raises and eyebrow. “I wish you the day you deserve. Now, get out of my way unless you want to kiss my ass.”

She doesn’t even wait before shouldering her way through the pack and shoving open the door.

The bell screams with her departure and continues to hum through the dense silence she leaves in her wake. I don’t think anyone knows what to say after that. Mr. Kinley is staring at the Lady’s Tea Garden members with a mixture of shock and amusement that mirrors my own.

“Mr. Kinley?” I prompt gently.

The man, eyes still wide, shuffles over to me and starts to slide his checkbook over, but Dolores intercepts. She snatches the book off the counter and shoves it back into Mr. Kinley’s hand.

“Mark, why don’t you come back later.” It is not a question. Not even a friendly suggestion.

It’s a whole threat.

Mr. Kinley does not argue.

He takes his book and hurries from the bank like he really is worried Dolores might hex him.