Page 11

11

J ack

Just after we hung up, my phone buzzed, and I glanced down to see a text from Alejandro.

Carlos told me. Good luck! She’s too good for you, as Rose is for me, so that means we count our blessings every single day, right, my friend?

Finally. Was that so hard? A simple offering of good luck wishes, without some wild proposal suggestion, and … another text came through.

Also, you can tie the ring to a basilisk and let it loose in the pawnshop. If neither you nor Tess turn to stone, you’ll know it’s meant to be.

I sent him the poop emoji, because there’s no emoji for “I’m going to run you over with the tractor,” as far as I know. I should look into that.

Or create one.

I’d have gotten a lot of use out of it over the past few days.

Tess planned to take a nap and then do some cleaning, so I helpfully assisted her in changing out of her clothes, which is why it was nearly two hours later when I left to go talk to the guys at the swamp.

When I got there, the business was in full swing. Warm, sunny days attracted tourists to airboat rides like bees to honey. Darius, Charlie, and Mateo were out on boats, helping people who were tired of amusement parks try something different on their vacations, but Lucky had a minute to talk.

I plonked the beer and deli sandwiches I bought on the way down on the picnic table, keeping a wary eye out for the old dude, a twelve-feet-long alligator who probably weighed seven hundred pounds. He liked to hang out in the shade next to the table, probably hoping a sandwich—or one of the tourists—would fall on the ground to be snatched up for a snack.

“Have you heard from Molly lately?” Tess’s best friend, Molly, and Lucky had been casually dating, but Tess didn’t think it was going to last.

Molly’s band was about to hit the big time, and she was constantly touring. We were thrilled for her, but Tess missed her a lot. I was hoping to surprise her with a trip to one of Molly’s concerts soon.

Maybe as part of a honeymoon?

I froze, unable to believe I’d just had that thought. I hadn’t even proposed yet. There was no guarantee she’d say yes if I ever got up the nerve.

Honeymoon ?

“Dude,” Lucky said. “Why do you look like somebody just punched you in the face?”

“Just a random thought. Never mind.”

He grinned. “So, it’s not because you’re planning to ask Tess to marry you?”

“Argh! Even out here, you heard?”

He pointed to his phone. “Text messages blew up. You’d better get on with it before Molly finds out, because she’ll tell Tess the minute she hears.”

I sighed. “So, you and Molly are still good?”

“We decided we’re better as just friends. She’s great, and I wish her the best, but I had my time out of Dead End, and I’m not interested in a life of concert tours and international travel. She’s going to be a superstar, and I’m thrilled for her, but she needs somebody who’s into that life.”

“Are you okay? Is she?” I was surprised Tess hadn’t told me about it. I’d had to hear way too much about the dating lives of all her friends.

“Yeah, we’re fine. She felt the same way. We were never particularly serious, just good friends, so it’s not a huge breakup or anything. But tell me about this ring.”

I pulled the sapphire out and showed him.

“She’ll love that. But I think you’ll have a better chance of her saying yes if you put it an actual, you know, ring.” He grinned when I punched him in the arm.

“Listen, I didn’t come out here for girl talk.”

“We could braid each other’s hair,” he said, backing out of reach.

“Brigadier General Barstow.” I dropped the name like the bomb it was.

Lucky’s smile instantly disappeared. “Let me get Mickey and the Fox brothers. That is a really bad guy, Jack. You should stay clear.”

“I’m trying to, but he doesn’t seem to want to let me,” I said grimly.

Dallas, Austin, and Mickey joined us at the table and all tore into sandwiches while they listened.

The Fox twins were both former Army Rangers and computer geniuses. They specialized in cyber security in their consulting business, but they were also part owners in the airboats.

Dallas and Austin turned identical faces toward each other when I said Barstow’s name.

“Very bad news,” Austin confirmed, his dark eyes serious. “He ran Special Forces for a while.”

“A short while,” Dallas said. “Luckily for his people.”

“That bad?”

“Worse. He was a seething ball of ambition, only thinly covered with a veneer of political savvy. He was directly responsible for more deaths in the ranks than anybody who ever ran Special Forces before,” Mickey replied, his hands clenched into fists on the table. “Friends of mine died because of him.”

“Then why is he still at the Pentagon?” I watched Mateo expertly dock the boat and a group of sunburned tourists disembark.

“Because he has money and connections,” Lucky said. “Jack, I’m really not happy that he knows your name. That he knows Tess and where she lives and who lives next to her? Nothing about this is good.”

“A giant cluster?—”

“Hey! Look at that enormous crocodile!” one tourist shouted, standing perilously close to the edge of the dock.

Mateo yanked the guy away from potential death by foolishness and herded the clueless clients off the dock. After some chat, the tourists climbed back into their giant air-conditioned tour bus and drove off.

Mateo walked over to us, cracked open a beer, and downed half of it. “These people! I tell them, stay away from the alligators , and do they listen? No, they do not. One of those women was hanging halfway off the boat trying to get a selfie with a ten-foot gator!”

“On the bright side, the rest of them would have had killer videos of a gator eating a tourist,” Mickey said, handing Mateo a sandwich.

We filled Mateo in, but he had nothing to offer, other than: “If you need us, we’ll be there.”

The others added their agreement to that.

“I appreciate it.”

I stood to leave, but Lucky put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. “Not so fast, lover boy. We have thoughts on your proposal.”

I groaned. “You would not believe some suggestions people have hit me with so far.”

Mateo grinned at me through a mouthful of chicken sub sandwich. “So, we get some champagne and candles, and then we set up a really romantic airboat ride, and?—”

I cut him off. “A romantic airboat ride?”

Everybody laughed.

“Okay, hear me out,” Mickey said. “You get the clowns to do it.”

He meant actual clowns. Tess and I had helped a troupe of clowns once, and Mickey’s girlfriend was part of the act.

“No. No clowns.”

“Wait! They can all parade into the pawnshop, playing their ukuleles, and do a singing proposal! Like, Tess, will you marry Jack, but singing, right?”

I was going to need a really big tractor to run all these people over.

I bared my teeth at him. “Wrong. No singing clowns. No ukuleles.”

“Jack’s right!” Lucky said.

“Finally,” I said. “The voice of reason.”

“We get a ribbon and tie the ring around the old man’s neck. Then Jack wrestles the gator, and the winner gets Tess!”

I stared at him in disbelief, but it wasn’t until his face turned red that I realized I’d actually grabbed him by the throat. I lessened the pressure, but I didn’t let go.

“ The winner gets Tess? So, if by some horrible circumstance I lose to the gator, then I’m dead and she’s lunch?”

Lucky made a choking noise.

I scowled at him, but let go.

He grinned. “Yeah, so I didn’t think that all the way through.”

“How about I tie you around the old man’s neck?” When I stood, Lucky ducked away from me, laughing so hard he almost fell over.

“How about something simple, like you put the ring in a pinata? When she cracks it open, she gets the ring, and you get candy,” suggested Austin, noted sugar addict.

I sighed. “Look, you boneheads?—”

But they were laughing so hard they didn’t hear me.

When they finally caught their breath, Lucky thumped me on the back. “Tess is an amazing woman. You’d be lucky to have her. Good luck.”

“Yeah, sure, but tell her I’m free if she says no,” Mateo said, grinning.

A huge tractor.

“Enjoy the sandwiches and beer,” I said. “I have to go talk to a jeweler.”

I was halfway to my truck when I had an idea, so I turned around and went back.

“Hey, Dallas, Austin, do you know a way to modify the town text loop so everybody in town except Tess gets a single text chain?”

They both raised eyebrows at me at the same time. The twin thing was a little creepy sometimes. “Can a gator eat a tourist?”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say that means you can do it?”

They shrugged. “No problem. What text?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out. How much lead time would you need to set it up?”

They looked mystified. “Lead time?”

“Yeah. Advance warning for all the tech stuff?”

Austin looked at his brother. “Five?”

Dallas nodded. “Ten would be better.”

“Hours?”

They cracked up. “Seconds, Jack. Give us ten seconds. We’ll get set up, so we’re ready to go when you give us the word.”

“Thanks. I mean it.”

“No worries. Good luck.”

“Clowns would be cooler,” Mickey called out after me, but I just waved.

Behind me, I heard Lucky speak up.

“Dude. Clowns are never cooler. Especially with ukuleles.”

The man was not wrong.

I climbed into my truck and called the friend I’d texted the ring photo to the night before. “Is that something you can do?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”

“I need it kind of soon,” I said apologetically. “The surprise is in real danger of being busted. I’ll pay whatever rush fee you want.”

He laughed. “Jack. My friend. I’ve already started and will be finished by tomorrow, if you bring me the jewel now. And you will pay me nothing at all. After the favor you did for me and my family … no. Your money is no good here. Invite me to the wedding.”

“But I can’t accept that!”

“It was a very big favor. Now be gracious and accept. And good luck with the lovely Tess.”

I’d shown him a picture. His wife had red hair, too.

“I appreciate it more than I can tell you,” I said sincerely. “I’m on my way.”

“This ring will be crafted with all my skill, artistry, and love, so it will bring good fortune to your marriage.”

“Thank you again.”

We could certainly use good fortune.

First, a quick trip to Orlando.

Then, I’d talk to some people about Sheriff Paul Reynolds, who might or might not be a killer.

Just your ordinary Sunday in Dead End.