Authors: Kathleen Brooks
"Thanks for your, um, support Nancy." He pulled away and took a seat in his booth.
"What you need is a plan. Real, good, smart women need more than the… game… you're offering." Miss Daisy whipped out her pad and started to take notes. "Flowers. Every man must start with flowers."
"That's right, and not just any flowers."
Edith's comments were met with a bunch of positive nods of heads and 'that's rights'. Edith had been married for almost sixty years before her husband passed away, so he guessed she’d know.
"Yes indeedy. What type of flower you give sets the whole stage." Miss Lily popped out of the back with a tray of food to take to the bed and breakfast.
"It does?"
"That's right. Each flower has a meaning. My name for example, I was named after the calla lily, which means regal. Daisy means innocence, and Violet means faithfulness. Pink roses mean friendship, so you probably want to stay away from that."
"Come on, women don't read into the type of flowers you give them."
All the women in the café chorused, “Yes we do.”
"We got a 9-1-1 for you out at the peewee soccer match." Annie's voice crackled over the radio. "And don’t think you're off the hook."
He knew better than to think that. He grabbed a bagel off Miss Lily's plate, gave her a quick peck on the cheek and a wink before heading to the soccer fields. The last 9-1-1 call from there was about a couple parents from both teams starting a shoving match.
Marshall pulled up to the fields and walked over to the bleachers. The referee was still alive. There were no bodies being flung against the sides of minivans. He scanned the crowd; no one seemed to be fighting.
"Sheriff! Yoo-hoo! Over here." Pam Gilbert stood and waved from the middle of the bleachers.
"Morning, Pam. What's the problem here?"
"It's not our problem, it's your problem. We've all been talking about your dating issues and we have a suggestion." Pam indicated that all of the parents from Keeneston, and probably a few from the Nicholasville team had also contributed in the dissection of his relationship with Katelyn.
"This isn't an emergency Pam and 9-1-1 is an emergency number only," he chided to absolutely no avail. Pam seemed utterly unfazed.
"Now sit down here and let's talk it out." She patted the seat next to her and then stood to cheer as one of her kids kicked the ball.
"I don't have time for this."
"Sit!" Pam snapped her fingers and gave him the look that said he'd get a time out if he didn't sit down right now.
"Okay, make it quick." He sat down on the bleacher and waited for the torture to start.
"You need to be domestic."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Cook for her, in a
clean
house. Preferably one that you actually cleaned yourself."
"What does this have to do with anything?" He snapped. By the look Pam sent him he better check his attitude or he might end up grounded.
"Women want to see that a man is ready for a commitment and a mature relationship. A man who has a messy house, doesn't cook, doesn't do laundry, and gallivants around town clearly isn't ready for a serious relationship."
"Oh. That actually makes sense, more so than the flowers and all their meanings."
"You better pay attention. My husband brought me striped carnations when we first met." The women in the bleachers gasped. "I know, right? It means refusal. I thought he was breaking up with me."
Marshall looked over at Pam's husband who just nodded and shrugged his shoulders and said, "I learned. So will you," before turning back to the game.
"We’ve got another 9-1-1." Annie interrupted.
"What is it?" He asked into his radio.
"It's at Kenna's law office."
"Okay. I'll be right there."
"Thanks for the advice. It was actually insightful."
He waved good-bye and leaped into his cruiser. Too much had gone down in Kenna's law office in the past for this to be good. Between Henry's defense clients and Kenna also being a prosecutor, things could get heated on occasion. But today was Saturday. No one should be at the office. Hopefully it wasn't a fire.
Marshall slid to a stop and jumped out of the cruiser. There didn't appear to be any smoke coming out of it. There weren't any broken windows or any other damage that he could see. He walked to the glass door and easily pulled it open. The office wasn't locked?
"Hello?"
"Marshall? We're back here." Henry's voice came from his office in the back.
Marshall passed through the lobby and turned left towards the offices. Henry's office was first and then Kenna's was closer to the library in the back.
"I got an emergency call. What's going on?"
He walked into Henry's office and found him behind his desk and Kenna seated on the couch. Stacks of papers and books surrounded them both.
"Hi Marshall."
"Kenna." He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek. "How's Sienna doing?"
"She's growing too fast," she beamed. "Thanks for asking."
"Now, can you please tell me what the emergency was?" Marshall put his hands on his hips and tried for his most intimidating glare.
"You are." Henry put down his pen and leaned back in his brown leather chair. "We hear you’re having some major dating problems. The word on the street is that you got shot down and you have no idea how to get back in the saddle."
"Jeez Henry, could you fit in any more clichés into that sentence?"
"Laugh it up. While you're sitting at number two on the Top Bachelor's List of Keeneston and getting shot down, I, way down at number five, have a date with a Keeneston Belle. So, take my advice and walk up to Katelyn and say the following."
Henry stood up, did an eyebrow wiggle, put his hands in his pockets and walked over to him. Marshall couldn't decide which to do, laugh or hide behind Kenna.
"You walk up to her, confidently, like this. Then you look into her eyes, like this, and say, 'Baby, I'll make you dinner if you make me breakfast." He wiggled his eyebrows again and Marshall couldn't help the laughing.
"Are you serious?"
"It works. You gotta get some game or you won't be number two for long. I’m charging up the polls!"
"The best advice I have is to not listen to Henry. Just be yourself and ask her out. It may also help to burn all your little black books and make it clear to everyone in town you’re no longer available. Katelyn is a sweet woman. She won't say yes if she thinks you're either playing the field or if she’s getting in the way of an already budding relationship."
"Sheriff, we got a 9-1-1 call from your sister's shop." Dinky's voice came through his radio.
"Is it already past noon?"
"Yes, Sir. Deputy Davies went home about thirty minutes ago. What would you like me to do about the 9-1-1?"
"Send Noodle on all remaining 9-1-1 calls. I’m taking the rest of the day off and will be unreachable except in a serious emergency as deemed by blood and bodily injury. Got it?"
"Yes, Sir. If I may, real quick, women like it when you speak from the heart."
Marshall turned down the volume to his radio and headed out the door. This was just getting to be too much.
Katelyn patted the Australian Shepard on his head and handed the leash back to his owner. Tex had sliced his foot when he was out helping round up some cattle on the Pitterman's farm. Mrs. Pitterman was a woman in her early sixties. Her mousy brown hair was streaked with gray and her face tanned from hours spent outside tending to the farm.
"Thank you for seeing us so quickly. Honestly, I didn't know what to expect, with what they are saying about you around town," Mrs. Pitterman said as she gathered her things.
"Saying, about me?" Was Dr. Truett saying bad stuff about her again?
"Well, there's that rumor that you bought your degree and don't know what you're doing, but enough people have seen you and assured me you were very competent. No, no, I was worried about the fact that you're spending the night with all these different men. I’m a good church-going woman and some are saying you're not a good role model for Keeneston top bachelorette. There's some talk of a revote. But, you're not bad at all. You were very kind to Tex and so thoughtful to get us in immediately because you know we use him for our work. Thank you for that. I'll stand against the revote. But, if you don't mind me saying, you may want to keep the barn door closed for a while, if you get my meaning."
Katelyn stood still and was speechless for a moment. "Different men?"
"Well, yes. Men. Everyone knows about that man you took home after Cade and Annie's wedding and then Marshall just the other night. Who knows who else there’s been. My church's sewing circle is all abuzz about it."
"Really? About me?"
"Yes, it died down for a while, but the rumor mill is flying again with you being named on the top of the bachelorette list. But, like I said, I’ll try to tame them as much as possible. Thank you again for fixin' Tex up right quick."
"You're welcome. Have a good day and let me know if Tex needs anything else." Katelyn pasted on her best commercial photo-shoot smile and walked her client out front to Shelly's desk before saying her final good bye. She managed to pretend everything was fine until she got to her office in the back. Tears gathered as she hung her head and typed in her notes on Tex. Great, not only is she a phony, she's now the town slut.
She was using her fingers to wipe away her tears when she heard the door swing open. She didn't want to see anyone right now and she just wanted to bury herself in paperwork and escape home in the dead of the night so she didn't have to encounter anyone.
"So, you've finally heard." Shelly put her arm around her shoulders and Katelyn felt the dam broke.
"I can't believe people are saying these things about me."
"I, and others, have done our best to stop the rumors. It seems as soon as we stomp one out, another one pops up. Someone is determined to pin a scarlet letter on you."
"Great. Just what I need as I'm trying to establish myself here and be taken seriously." Katelyn stopped when she heard the late night bell ring.
"I'll get it. Then I need to head home. Call me if you need anything. The kids are in bed by nine, and then I’m all yours."
"Thanks, Shelly."
Katelyn locked up the back office with all the medicines and headed for the front office. Bekah was in the back feeding the overnight boarders and had already locked up. Katelyn went to set the alarm, but noticed a large beautiful white orchid sitting on top of Shelly's desk. A white envelope was leaning against it, her name sprawled across the front of it masculine writing.
Doc-
I saw these and thought of you. Please know I am thinking of you and hope you will agree to have dinner with me when you are ready.
-Marshall
She read the card twice. Was this really Marshall? He couldn't possibly feel like this. He was always so cocky and was such a playboy. He probably had someone else write it. It was late and she was too tired to think about it. At least she had flowers now, and she guessed the thought was what counted.
Chapter Ten
The night air was static with energy. The anticipation thick and heavy as it rose with every fight. Thunder clapped and deafened the night air as a summer storm raged outside. But no one heard it. They were all in an old barn far out in the country and were too busy watching the fights in the ring. The place was packed. She couldn't have been happier. She turned to her partner and smiled.
"You did a great job Camille. Turnout is wonderful," she yelled to the fight organizer.
"Thanks. Without ya’ll's info, we'd never know about this place. How are the bets going?"
"Real well. We've made around thirty grand so far and the big fight is yet to come. I think we'll make out with around fifty grand after we take our cut of the gun money and after the payout to the winner."
"Great. I need to go get Romeo ready for his fight. I hope that representative from International is here. Tonight has been perfect."
The crowd erupted as first blood was drawn in the ring. She nodded in response to Camille. This would be their crowning glory if they could pull it off. All four of them would go onto the next level. Good-bye rural South, hello Europe.
She didn't have dogs. She was the money girl. She could run numbers faster than anyone around. She was one of the most sought after bookies and had worked hard to earn the reputation as being one of the most elite and respected ones in the South. No one messed with her, she had all the names of the fighters, the dealers, and the gamblers - and they all knew she'd use them in a second if they screwed her. They also knew she protected those names with her life and that's why they trusted her.
She looked back at the ring as the shouts matched the thunder pounding the skies. As soon as the first blood was drawn, the crowd became just as bloodthirsty as the beasts in the ring. The metallic smell of blood filled the arena and drove the frenzy further toward madness.
The dogs picked up on the madness and the violence escalated rapidly. The bigger dog went in for the kill. His powerful jaws locked around the smaller dog's neck and clamped down tight. The windpipe of the smaller dog was crushed and with a quick adjustment the bigger dog moved his jaws to the scruff of the neck where in one powerful move he shook his head and tried to snap the neck.
The smaller dog was sent flying across the ring and the crowd was barely contained. They pushed and shoved to get a better view of the kill. Their bodies pressed against the side of the wooden ring as they cheered. The small dog lay fatally wounded and waited for the end as his death was applauded.
* * *
Marshall looked at the normally cheerful building and knew the colorful petunias were really just camouflage for the scariest and most efficient interrogators he'd ever come across. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and went to face the music.