“A couple guys approached me in town today. They want to have a hog roast and auction at the High-School next weekend to help raise funds to rebuild The Lantern,” he rumbled casually.
Ginny’s head jerked around, Flo’s taunting words about the food bank still ringing in her ears.
“We have insurance,” she reminded him, her tone terse.
“I told them that.”
“Who are these
guys
that approached you?”
“A couple local businessmen, members of the Town Council, Bowie included.”
Ginny fought to hold her temper at her husband’s vague answers.
“What do they want, Zeke?”
“They want to help, Gin. What’re you getting so up-tight about?”
“We don’t need their charity. As soon as the Insurance Company completes their investigation, they will give us the green light to start rebuilding. We were fully covered. I talked to them today and the policy even covers the employee’s wages and loss of income for us.”
“After everything the Lords have done for this town and as part of Trinity’s Business Owner’s Association they just want to help out. Same as we all did for the damaged stores when the river flooded. Why are you making this into such a big deal?”
“First off, we are doing just fine, better than many. Secondly, I don’t need a bunch of businessmen trying to tell me how to rebuild my restaurant.”
“The only discussion we had concerning rebuilding was ideas for conserving the historic look of down town with the brick façade. You are blowing this way out of proportion, woman, even for you. What aren’t you telling me?”
Ginny sighed and lit a cigarette. Zeke raised a brow, but kept silent. If she was smoking without bothering to try to hide it, she was stressed.
“I ran into Flo this afternoon at the grocery store,” she mumbled.
“Oh, here we go. Jesus! Why do you let that bitch get your goat? Huh? You won. Mox has lived under our roof for ten years. He knows, the whole world knows, that she is a worthless whore and a shit mother.”
“I hate her.”
Despite the unwavering truth of her words, the petulant pout in his wife’s voice made Zeke grin.
“She had the gall to suggest I couldn’t feed my boys without The Lantern up and running. That we were some kind of charity case, in need of the food bank at the Catholic Church. She is damn lucky I didn’t knock her on her ever-widening ass right there in the grocery store. If she would have asked me how
her little Miles
was, I would’ve snapped!”
“You know she’s going to take any chance to get a dig in, as rare as they are. She’s jealous.”
“She’s the one that decided to abandon her son like a stray dog. I have no sympathy for the bitch.”
“Everyone in Trinity Falls knows who and what she is. This hog roast isn’t about that kind of petty bullshit. They want to help because we’re their neighbors. It’s the small town values we’ve always fought to keep. It’s what Trinity is about.”
“Careful, honey, you’re starting to sound like a paid political statement. They’ll have you running for Mayor next,” Ginny snorted.
“Sound bites aside, rein in your pride and distrust a bit and let them help,” Zeke said, his tone brooking no argument. When she reached over and laced her fingers through his, he took her silence for agreement. “Good. Now, take your old man to bed.”
“What am I going to do with you when we get there?” Ginny teased.
“I’m sure I will come up with something, darling,” he answered with a wink.
Standing up, she put her feet on top of his like a little girl and taking his hands leaned back to pull him up. He obliged suddenly, making her lose her balance with a gasp. Sweeping her up over his shoulder with an evil chuckle, he headed for the house.
“Should I yell and scream for help like a good little damsel in distress?”
“Nah, everyone knows you’ve wanted me since you were fifteen. They aren’t going to fall for the good girl ploy.”
“I was only thirteen when I started masturbating while fantasizing about you in your football uniform, baby, but who’s counting?”
The sexy purr of her voice shot straight to his groin and he hastened his step as best as he could under the circumstances, cursing the dog who chose that moment to be underfoot.
“How about you show me exactly what I missed?”
“Think you can handle that, big boy?”
“I’m willing to die trying.”
Chapter Twelve
Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, Ginny hummed along with the Beatle’s
Let it Be.
The song was one of her favorites when she was down and part of an eclectic collection Garrett had burned for her as a birthday gift. She treasured the
MOM
CD and it rarely left the Charger’s disk changer. Swinging into the parking lot of the assisted living complex, she wondered if her mom would like a similar gift. Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn, or Patsy Cline playing softly while her mother had cooked or cleaned was a vague memory from childhood. Her father shattering the little radio against the dining room wall in the middle of
Smoke on the Water
was vivid, however. Ginny shook her head in an effort to chase away the thoughts and got out of the car. She would ask Garrett about the idea when she got home.
Waving to the women at the front desk, Ginny hurried down the hall to her mother’s tiny apartment. Knocking, she let herself in. Sitting in the window seat, the sun pouring in around her, embroidery in her lap, Lillian Kennedy was still beautiful. More importantly, she looked happy.
“Hey, Mom,” she said softly, leaning down to envelop the older woman in a hug.
“You’re early.”
“Without the restaurant to run, I’ve had plenty of time lately to get things done,” Ginny said with a self-conscious shrug. “I brought the color so we can do your hair today.”
“You look tired. Are you okay?”
The worry in her mother’s voice tugged at Ginny’s heart. The unspoken question hung in the air between them.
“I’m fine, Mom, and Zeke and I are great. I’ve told you. You don’t need to worry about that with him. Besides, with those fists of his, if he ever hit me there would be no hiding the bruises,” Ginny said, striving for a little tease in her tone. The worry didn’t fade from hazel eyes so like her own.
“How’re those strapping grandsons of mine?” her mom asked, fussing with putting away her embroidery floss.
Ginny appreciated the effort to change the subject.
“Rhys is sniffing after Becca again. Mox finally finished that beast of a truck he’s been working on. The paint job turned out really nice. And it looks like your youngest grandson is going to make the varsity football team as a freshman. That boy is eating us out of house and home. He’s truly his father’s son and growing faster than I can keep him in clothes.”
“Rhys is so handsome, looks just like my Trent. What does he see in that tramp?”
“She’s easy,” Ginny answered dryly, motioning her mother into a kitchen chair and draping an old towel around her shoulders.
“Are you sure Garrett is big enough to play with the older kids?”
“You haven’t seen the moose lately. Trust me. The boy is built like a tank. He went to a football camp in Chicago run by NFL players this summer and they had nothing but great things to say about him. His grades are good. If things work out, he could get a full ride to any school he wants.”
“Are all three of them going to be at the hog roast? I’m so looking forward to seeing them.”
“If there is food, they will be there,” Ginny said with a laugh.
It looked like all of Trinity Falls had turned out for the hog roast. Ginny was humbled by the support and the stream of well wishes they had received already. As popular as the bar and grill was, she hadn’t realized its importance to the town’s people.
“I don’t think I can take too many more bologna sandwich lunches at my desk, or TV dinner suppers, Ginny,” the Sheriff said ruefully.
“You need to get yourself a good woman.”
“I’ve been telling you that for years. When are you going to leave Zeke?”
“Leave him? I almost have him trained now,” she protested drawing laughter from those around them.
The solid crack of a bat and the anticipatory roar of excitement shifted Ginny’s attention to the softball diamond in time to watch her husband barrel around first base before dropping into a cocky homerun jog. Bowie and several others met him at home plate for a testosterone-filled celebration of high-fives and back thumping.
“Awesome, Dad,” Garrett said, sharing a fist bump with his father. “Who needs to run with power like that?”
Zeke grinned, basking in the spotlight. Shaking her head at her stud, Ginny fished a cold one out the cooler and skirted her way through the crowd to reward him.
“You still got it, baby,” she murmured with a wink.
Zeke accepted both kiss and Budweiser with equal appreciation.
“The power’s still there, but the speed is shot.”
“Slow and hard works for me.”
“Hussy,” he mumbled against her lips.
Watching Becca’s wobbly departure, stilettos sinking into the sod, Mox shook his head. Why in the hell did Rhys chase after that? Even now, he followed in her wake, patiently trying to calm the latest snit. Not even pussy was worth that kind of aggravation. Looking around, he spotted Grandma Kennedy sitting alone in the shade and headed in that direction.
“I brought you a plate, baby.”
He cringed at the syrupy twang behind him and tried to pretend she was talking to someone else. If there was a voice he hated more than Becca’s, it was Flo’s. This day just got better and better.
“Miles, baby, why don’t you come sit with your father and me? I hate the thought of you all alone and haven’t they fed you?”
Turning, Mox glared down at the woman, causing her to stop suddenly, juggling the plate she carried.
“I’m a big boy. I can feed myself.”
“Well of course you can, baby. I just thought you might be hungry so your dad and I bought an extra ticket. You know, what with the Brawer’s down on their luck and all. I overheard Ginny talking the other day about the food pantry over at the Catholic Church. I had no idea things were so bad.”
Mox’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“You must have misunderstood her. Maybe she was dropping something off.”
“Oh, honey, you are so naïve. I’m sure they’re trying to hide it from you boys, but with Zeke losing his job and pension, and it unlikely the insurance company will pay out on the fire…” Her voice trailed off sympathetically and she patted his hand as she pressed the plate into his grasp.
Trying to make sense of her words, Mox didn’t protest as she led him through the crowd. What had someone said at the rally, that Zeke had been
allowed
to retire? That little pissant from Internal Affairs was still sniffing around. Had Zeke really been stripped of his pension after over twenty years? Both Zeke and Ginny had seemed stressed lately. Zeke, quieter, not even bothering to give him a hard time, and no matter how much she disliked Becca, Ginny’s outburst at the pool had been a surprise, even if an amusing one.
“Why isn’t the insurance company going to pay?”
“I’m sorry, sugar. I figured you knew, what with this fundraiser and all. They know it was arson and the authorities believe that Ginny masterminded it for the insurance money. You know she has always enjoyed flaunting Zeke’s hard earned money and with their future in shambles, she must have got desperate.”
“Ginny didn’t burn down The Lantern.”
“Well of course not. She is much smarter than that. So smart in fact that I bet they will never be able to make charges stick, but that won’t stop the insurance company from refusing to pay and that leaves them right back at flat broke.”
“So everyone thinks Ginny hired someone to burn down her own restaurant? Why would she do that? The Lantern made good money.”
“Good money for a second income, but they have multiple mortgages, credit cards, are raising three growing boys, they weren’t going to be able to make it on one income. So she gets her lover to set the fire thinking that the insurance will at least pay off her debt giving her time to figure out her next move and sugar daddy.”
“Her lover?” Mox asked, beginning to get thoroughly confused. None of this made sense. Ginny loved Zeke. They still couldn’t keep their hands off each other after all these years.
“I swear I blame Ginny for encouraging you to play football. You’re not that stupid, Miles. The entire town knows that Ginny and Samuel Boscelli have been lovers for years, and he is a convicted arsonist. He burned down his father’s house in Chicago and tried to kill him. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put the pieces together and the authorities are not stupid either.”
“Ginny loves Zeke. She wouldn’t cheat on him and sure as hell not with another Lord.”
“I know you like to believe the best in people, Miles, but their relationship has been going on for years. You don’t think that Boscelli tended bar at the restaurant because it paid well do you? That is not the type of job that a man makes a living at,” Flo chided.
“Sambo lived in the apartment above The Lantern for free and the majority of his income comes from selling songs he writes. He’s really good.”
“I know he’s your friend, honey, but did you ever ask him where he was that night? Don’t you find it odd that he wasn’t home in the wee hours of the morning after tending bar all night? I heard that a couple expensive guitars didn’t go up in the fire. It only makes sense that he would remove any real valuables before setting the fire.”
Mox shoveled another bite into his mouth to avoid answering Flo’s questions. His mind was spinning. A lot of what she was saying made sense; too much of it. Fear twisted his gut and he instinctually searched the crowd for Ginny. She stood in a small group near the dessert table, Zeke at her side, but Sambo nearby. The Sambo that Flo was describing was not the artist, musician, and loyal club brother that had painted his truck for him without charging a dime for his time. Snap shots flashed through his mind of good times at The Lantern, Sambo and Ginny behind the bar, laughing, joking, protective of one another, always close. How close?