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Samuel shook his head. “Nope. And couldn’t care less,” he said. “I’m not selling.”
I sat back and tried to make sense of what my father was saying. Sure, a resort in Kent wasn’t a completely bad idea, especially with the junior college nearby and the sudden burst of gated communities all around. Still, there were dozens of places where something like this could have been more profitable, and a lot easier to set up. Heath’s interest in the land made a lot more sense now. I could see him grabbing onto an investment opportunity like this with teeth and claws. What Garth’s connection to all this was, though, I had no idea.
“Does Garth still live in the old house up the street?” I asked. “Maybe I could drop by and get a better idea of what’s going on.”
Samuel shook his head. “Moved out a long time ago. His mother married some rich guy by the name of Harlow, I believe, the guy who built Harlow Estates just outside town, near the college.”
I remembered passing by the large sign that promised “A community for the elite” and thinking just how conceited the developers had to be to use that as their slogan.
“He’s got his own house and all, opened a club right next to the student dorms. Called it something ridiculous, I can’t remember.”
I made a mental note to check that out later.
“Kent’s changed a lot since I’ve last been here,” I said.
“Yeah,” Samuel replied, his face scrunching up in what I could only assume was disgust. “Anyway, Kelly isn’t going to be able to get through the day without a proper meal, so what do you wanna do?”
“Red Roof sounds like a plan,” I offered.
Samuel drained the rest of his beer and nodded. “Then Red Roof it is,” he said, pushing himself to his feet with a grunt. “I’ll call her.”
“Don’t bother,” I said, taking out my phone. “You wanna reach Kelly Logan, you gotta message her.”
Chapter 6: Jenni
“Dammit!”
I turned the key in the ignition, waited for the engine to roar to life, and cursed again when all it did was sputter and die. I slammed my fists against the steering wheel, opened the door and stepped out into the night. The summer breeze that welcomed me was supposed to calm me down, but instead I felt like grabbing a baseball bat and hit on the car.
I had been planning to change the battery a week ago, but never really got around to doing it. Now I was paying the price for my burst of procrastination. I looked up the street, toying with the idea of just walking the rest of the way, then quickly abandoned the notion. The café was at least three miles down the road, and by the time I’d get there, I wouldn’t be able to get any work done anyway. I had a better chance of walking home than trying to get any work done tonight.
I cursed again, kicked at the wheel, and pulled out my phone, trying to decide on whether I should call my dad or Garth.
Definitely, Garth. Dad’s just going to use this as an example of why you can’t be on your own, and he might even bring up the little ‘adventure’ you had in the back room this morning.
Yeah, but Garth was going to be just as useless. He rarely answered the phone anyway, something I had learned early on. And even when he did, he always found some excuse to call you back.
Which never happened.
I scrolled through the contacts
on my phone, wondering if I may have saved Pete’s Garage’s number somewhere, when the battery began to blink and the screen went dead.
“Just my fucking luck!”
I kicked at the wheel again, winced with the pain that shot up my leg, and hobbled back to the driver’s door. I took in a deep breath, trying my best to calm my nerves, and let it out in a long sigh. I looked up and down the road, hoping I could maybe hail someone down, but the streets were deserted. You’ll just have to wait.
I looked across the street at the few houses that sat in a huddle around the ballpark, and considered my options. The typical ‘can I use your phone’ excuse might be a little too cliché, and even in Kent, people had begun to lock their doors.
With the spike in recent crime rates, it’s not really a surprise.
I opened the driver’s door, slumped into my seat and closed it with a slam loud enough to portray my frustration. Not that it mattered, really; no one was around to watch me break into a three-year-old’s tantrum. I fished in the glove compartment for a car charger, and when I didn’t find one, slammed that shut, too. The night couldn’t have gotten worse.
Maybe you can get some work done here?
I thought about that for a second, shrugged, and reached for my laptop in the backseat. I took it out, flipped the cover open and waited for it to start up. In the rearview mirror, I spotted twin lights in the distance. For a second, relief washed over me, and then the lights disappeared as the car turned onto another street. I sighed and settled back down, turning my attention back to the laptop.
The battery only had thirteen percent left.
