Light from the single streetlamp nearby glinted off the blade. The knife looked pretty menacing, I’m not going to lie. He lunged forward. I sidestepped. A quick step forward closed the distance between us, and I grabbed his wrist with both hands, twisting sharply and forcing the knife to clatter to the asphalt. I delivered a palm tohis chin and punched his throat, hard. He gurgled, eyes wide, as he staggered back, choking. I finished with a spinning back kick to his chest, sending him clattering into a row of trash cans.
I scanned the scene. Frat Boy and No Neck writhed on the ground. Eric did his best to crawl away.
“Damn,” Jude said as he whistled and surveyed the scene of carnage. “Remind me never to cross you.”
But I barely heard him because I’d spun on my heel and was stalking away.
“El?” Jude asked, confused. “Where are you going?”
“City hall. I need to talk to the mayor.”
“Shouldn’t we call the paramedics?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“I didn’t break their fingers,” I said, not feeling very charitable right at that moment. “They can do it themselves.”
Jude frowned.
“You can stay and help them, but I’m going to city hall.”
Jude didn’t hesitate. “I’ll drive you.”
Jude stood with me on the steps of city hall, a redbrick building with a bell clock tower, adjacent to the county courthouse where I’d had to go and sit in a courtroom to watch Alec Stokes walk free. I fixed my gaze on the big wooden sign that readLAKE SANGUIS—TRANQUIL AND SERENE.
My ass.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jude said, drawing my attention away from the sign. “We should talk to Oscar before those guys make a statement to the police.”
“They won’t be making any statements to the police,” I said, certain. Then they’d have to talk about why three of them tried to jump me at my house and why I kicked all their butts, which they’d never want to admit. Then they’d also have to explain how the mayor turned up in their Paymo feed with $500 or $5,000 or whatever agreed-upon price, no doubt with the boxing glove emoji, black eye emoji, fist bump emoji.
“And Oscar’s already mad at me. I just want to have a word with the mayor. I won’t do anything more.”
“He’s probably not even here,” Jude pointed out.
“I heard he likes to stay late in the office. And not to work.” The best time to harass people was generally when there were no witnesses around.
Jude looked at me, uneasy.
“You don’t have to come.”
“I’m coming,” Jude said, resolute.
Jude and I walked through the revolving doors of city hall, where the information desk stood empty. Of course. It was after six. We passed by glass-doored offices with empty desks, and computers showing the bouncing squiggles of screensavers. Our footsteps seemed to echo on the tiled floor.
“Okay, well, nobody’s around,” Jude said, sounding relieved, as he glanced into another empty office. “Not even cleaning staff.”
“They’re probably at the Hot Cider Crawl,” I said, noticing a flyer left on someone’s desk.
It was one way the town tried to attract tourists during the off-season. Tonight people gathered at the lakefront to drink hot cider (spiked or not), throw axes at hay bale targets, and try not to spill their hot beverages while riding the pop-up Ferris wheel. Given that it was a milder than usual October evening, morepeople would be cashing in their tickets for cider and carnival games tonight.
If this were a Hallmark movie, it would be where the main character would bump into the romantic lead, spill cider on his checkered flannel coat, and instantly fall in love.
But this wasn’t a Hallmark movie.
“Stokes!” I shouted loudly. “Stokes! Where are you?”
My voice echoed through the empty office.
“You too scared to face me?” I shouted. “Had to send hired goons after me?”
