Brad launched into a litany of violations. Some were small, easily fixable issues, but others, like her lack of proper drainage, would take time and money she didn’t have.
Lainey kneaded her forehead. “That’s…a long list.”
“I know, but you can probably get that sorted yourself without me having to write up anything official. Right?”
The fist in Lainey’s stomach unclenched. “Thank you, Brad.” She turned to flash Elliot a smug smile, but to her surprise, he seemed…relieved.
“So if that’s it…” Elliot trailed off, all at once appearing wholly out of place.
“You’re the new owner of the Shore Thing, right?” Brad called out without looking up from the clipboard in his palm.
Elliot suddenly looked unsure about his arms—what theywere and/or what they were meant to do. He frowned, perplexed. “Uh, yes.”
“Thought so,” Brad said. A hunter laying a trap. “Is that you I’ve been seeing over at EZ Gas?”
Elliot was a deer caught in headlights. Lainey had never before wished for the power of telepathy quite so forcefully.
“Uh, maybe. For gas. And stuff. I got chips one time.”
“Chips.” From Brad’s lips, the word dripped with subtext.
The families behind Bauer Mart and EZ Gas had been embroiled in a blood feud since 1998. Lainey wasn’t aware of the fight’s origins, but she did know that nothing got done in Timber Creek without a signature from a Bauer. They had their hands in every layer of local government. Whereas most of the adult children of the Lindley clan—the owners of EZ Gas—were knee-deep in various multi-level marketing schemes. There was one side to choose in this feud, and, unbeknownst to Elliot, he’d picked the wrong one.
“Yeah. I heard about the chips,” Brad repeated, lifting his chin. “You know that in two of your cabins, there are about six turtle tanks?”
Elliot’s face went white. Lainey was well aware of her former neighbor’s side business dealing exotic animals. She wasn’t a fan of it, but after Gil agreed to end his short stint raising big cats like a Midwestern Tiger King, she’d reluctantly acquiesced to the turtles, reptiles, and rare fish that came and went from his property.
“Those aren’t—”
Brad scribbled on his clipboard without looking up at Elliot. “The animals are none of my concern. But those heat lamps are a fire hazard. I have no choice but to write that up.”
“Wh-what?” he stuttered. “But she has a pile of oil-soaked rags inside a firepit.”
“The bowl is cracked,” Lainey piped up. “So I keep the rags there to remind menotto use it.”
“That’s insane!” Elliot was at his wit’s end. “I’m not saying you should write her up for it, but how can you let all of her things slide and then turn around and fine me for a heat lamp I had nothing to do with?”
Brad’s glare was so steely it visibly sucked the air from Elliot’s lungs. “Because Ms. Davis,” he said, slow and deliberate, “…knows better than to get chips from EZ Gas.”
Brad handed Elliot a citation and stomped off to his car.
“Have a good one, Brad,” Lainey called out as the man pulled away.
Elliot finally took a breath. “What…was that?”
With the authority of a woman dictating a commandment from on high, Lainey held up a single finger and declared, “Never shop at EZ Gas again. Also, don’t forget to feed the turtles. They’re in the cabins thathaven’tsunk into the lake. You should pull those out if you aren’t planning to sleep in water wings.”
“I’m actually staying at the Lodge Bed and Breakfast—though I appreciate what I’m sure is your sincere concern.” He slunk back to his absurdly large truck and called out to her through the open window, which had hopefully attracted a swarm of mosquitoes thirsty for blood. “I’ll bill you for a new phone if I can’t get rid of whatever malware your rideshare app gave me.”
“You have my number.” She couldn’t say why, but it felt important that she remind him that only a few days ago he’d found her irresistible enough to shyly ask for her phone number under a gas station canopy.
“You must’ve loved that, huh? Was that part of your game, too?”
Lainey pressed her lips shut. She didn’t owe this man answers. According to her lawyer, this washerhouse. For the first time, possibly ever, someone other than Lainey was the one on the back foot.
She didn’t speak. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Restraint was power.
With a pounding head and two feet planted firmly to the earth, Lainey picked up her chainsaw and stood her ground as Elliot Hodges disappeared into the trees.
