8. Nolan
Chapter 8
Nolan
W hen I pull up in front of Beth’s to unload the bags of dirt I bought for her flowerbeds, I notice a few extra cars. One of them is a shiny new SUV.
When did she get that?
“I have to pee.” Mollie, holding herself, bounces in her seat. “Can I go in Miss Bethany’s house to pee? I can’t wait.”
Once I’ve backed the truck up to her garage, I turn off the engine. “Ring the doorbell. Don’t just walk in.”
“She don’t care.” Mollie informs me as she unfastens herself. “She said so last time.”
I chuckle while getting out to open her door. I’m sure Bethany said exactly that, but that’s not the point. “I don’t care. It’s rude. Ring the doorbell.”
Hopping out, Mollie runs to the front door and is nearly knocked over when a man I don’t recognize storms out.
“Get out of my way, kid.” In one swift motion, he extends his arm, shoving her with enough force to send her crashing into the sizable flowerpot on Bethany’s porch.
Mollie seems unfazed, but I’m not.
Oh no, he didn’t.
I don’t think. I react.
His pink polo crumples in my fist as I stop him, tugging his face toward mine. “You ever shove my kid like that again and I’ll mop the floor with your face. Understand?”
“Whatever, man. Get your hands off me before I sue your ass for assault.” He tries to look intimidating, but with his toes barely touching the ground and his shirt all bunched around his neck, he looks like a wimpy asshole. “Do you know who I am?”
“Nope. Don’t care, either. You’re just a punk ass kid who needs a lesson in manners.” Setting his feet down, I release my grip on his shirt. Brushing it back in place, I lean forward. “Now get the fuck out of here before I march you back inside and make you apologize to my daughter.”
He takes a step back and runs his eyes over me, unimpressed. “Like I’d take advice from some blue-collar dude. You probably work for me. And if I find out you do, I’m firing your ass.”
“I don’t work for you.” I can’t help but laugh in his face. “And if I did, I’d quit after meeting you. But I doubt you have the authority to fire me. You’re just some spoiled ass rich kid who lives off daddy’s money.”
“What if I am? I’m still better than you, old man. Now move. I’ve got shit to do.” He steps around me and walks up to the shiny red sports car that beeps when he touches the handle. “This car cost more than I bet you make in a year.”
He’s not wrong. I bet it cost him—or should I say his father—over a hundred grand, if not more.
Why the hell would anyone spend that kind of money on a vehicle they can’t do more than drive on a nice sunny day?
Then it hits me.
I know that car. It was parked on the side of the road the day I pulled Bethany out of hers. Looks like the front bumper has been fixed.
My anger intensifies as he shifts gears and speeds away, driving recklessly through the neighborhood. It lessens when our neighbor, Detective Jenkins, steps out of his house just in time to catch him. Judging by his state of dress, it’s safe to assume he’s on duty. It’s later than his normal start time, meaning he likely got called in. He’s in his unmarked car in seconds. Lights immediately flashing as he pulls out, slowly at first, to make sure the path is clear. I bet he catches up with that asshole before that kid hits the main road. If I could be a fly on his windshield when he pulls him over. I bet the kid smarts off and gets his ass arrested before it’s all said and done.
“Wow. He’s special,” Kellie says from her spot behind the truck, watching the man speed away.
I do my best to hold back a laugh. “Just goes to show all the money in the world can’t make you smart.”
As the front door opens, three teenage boys spill out, their urgency to escape palpable in their hurried movements.
“Need some help?” Finn asks.
“Let us know where you want it placed, and we’ll take care of the rest.” Felix jumps into the back of the truck bed.
The third one stands there for a few seconds before deciding he’s in. “So, where, Mr. Archer?”
I lay an elbow on the railing of the truck bed and eye each one of them closely. “Tell me why that guy was here. What did he want? And whose are those?” I point to the two overpriced vehicles parked in front of Bethany’s home.
“The new SUV is Mom’s. We don’t know more.” Finn’s attempt to lie falls flat.
“Come on. Spill it. I know you two well enough to know that’s not true.”
Nicky, the third wheel, runs a hand over his head, then spills the beans. “I suppose I could mention that two other men are inside talking to Miss Rogan about that. Mom’s sitting in as a witness.”
“A witness to what, exactly?” This time, I make eye contact with Felix. “I know you know.”
“Fine. I might have found a way to get the records of the ah… jerk head who hit Mom. Learned this isn’t his first offense. Yet he had zero points on his license, and they were all buried deep. I found it after exploring a wormhole I shouldn’t have ventured into. That’s all I’m saying.” His cheeks turn a bright shade of red. “I might have sent the information to Mr. Stewart, the CEO of S&S manufacturing, hoping to entice someone to do the right thing.”
“That little prick is a Stewart?” I shake my head, feeling the frustration building inside me. The Stewarts own a lot of businesses in Savannah, meaning they aren’t here just to say I’m sorry. “Why did he storm out?”
Finn takes that question. “Because Mom is the bomb, and she didn’t let him intimidate her. She deals with punks like him daily. You know the ones who don’t plan on doing the work but still want the grade. They learn pretty fast that Dr. Rogan don’t play. If they slack off, she’ll flunk them. No exceptions. He got pissed when she asked what he learned from that day. I almost went in there and punched his teeth out when he called Mom a cu… the C word. I would’ve too, if Nicky hadn’t held me back.”
“He called her what?” It’s a good thing I didn’t know that when I had him by the shirt, he’d have been eating my fist instead of getting an earful.
Kellie speaks up. “He called her the C word. You know what that is, right? See you next time. That word.”
“I know the word.” I glare at her, hating how kids know shit way sooner than they used to. “How do you know the word?”
“Seriously, Dad? I’m in middle school. The boys at my school use that word more than they use the F bomb.” She rolls her eyes, unable to hide her irritation. “And yes, I know that one, too. Would you like a list of the words I know?”
“No. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t know or use any of them. Got it?”
Finn pulls Kellie closer, wrapping his arm around her neck playfully. “Parents are so lame. My mom thinks I still like those smiling face fruit snacks. I didn’t even like them when I was a kid. I traded them with Nicky for his Jello. Better to let your dad think that way, though, or he might lock you in your room and never let you out.”
Kellie grins at him with admiration. I hope it’s admiration and not something else. God help me if it’s more.
“So, about the dirt. Where do you want it?” Felix picks up a bag and tosses it to Nicky, who catches it with ease.
I point at my daughter. “She’ll tell you. I’m going to go check on Mollie and see what’s happening inside.”
As I’m walking away, I hear Finn say to the others, “Told you he’d go inside. Your dad is cool. I also think he likes my mom. You cool with that, kid?”
I can’t hear what Kellie says, and I’m not sure I want to. He’s not wrong, but there’s more to it than just liking Bethany. As adults, we have responsibilities that demand our attention. We can’t act on our feelings, no matter how much I’d like to do just that. Especially with us being neighbors. It’s not like I can just move if shit hits the fan.
When I arrive at the door, Mollie is coming out, but that doesn’t stop me from entering. “Go help your sister and the boys. You can make sure they don’t bust any bags open. Okay?”
“Okay.” Mollie runs past me. “Dad said to make sure you don’t bust open any bags. We paid good money for that dirt.”
Good lord, help me, that kid misses nothing.
I step inside and hear voices echoing down the entry from the kitchen. When I reach the doorway, I try not to overstep. It’s not my place. I’m just the neighbor who thinks the woman seated across from the two men in suits is amazing and more than capable of handling her own shit. Even if I would love to throw my weight around to help her out, I won’t unless she asks me to.
“Everything okay?” I ask, then notice Bethany has tears in her eyes, which riles me up. “Someone better explain, now.”
Jodi stands and offers me her seat. “I think I’ll go outside and let you deal with this. Good luck.”
“Do I really need it?”
With a shrug, she points to a piece of paper placed in front of Bethany, catching my attention.
“What’s that?”
Bethany doesn’t say a word, she just slides it over and waits for me to read it. The more I read, the more I understand why she seems upset, or maybe not upset, but frazzled.
I tap the paper and look her straight in the eye. “You need to call a lawyer.”
The man across from me speaks. “I’m a lawyer.”
Unimpressed, I point to the man next to him. “His lawyer. She needs her own.”
He disagrees. “No, she doesn’t. He or she will only tell her to take the deal and then charge her a hefty fee.”
I take my phone out of my back pocket. “Not all lawyers overcharge. And I’m sorry, but you’re looking out for him and that little prick who barreled into my daughter when he stormed out of here. I don’t trust you. She shouldn’t trust you.” Once I’m done explaining, I find who I’m looking for and press the call button.
“Who are you calling?” Bethany’s sharp, questioning gaze and slightly pursed lips show her skepticism.
“Stephanie’s sister. She’s a lawyer.” I reach over and place my hand on her arm, feeling the softness of her skin. “Trust me. She won’t mind. She’s been wanting to come get the girls. I’ll tell her if she does this first, she can have them for a few days.”
“Or I could call one of my colleagues. One of the university lawyers.” With a slight nibble on her lip, she returns her gaze to the paper. “What kind of law does your sister-in-law practice?”
Locking eyes with the man who insisted she didn’t need one, I smirk. “She’s a prosecutor. She’d totally be down to help, if only to make sure it’s legal and not some shady cover-up. I’m sure you two are okay with that.”
The other man nods—Mr. Stewart, I presume. “No cover up. Totally fine with it. I want to make this right. We might have arrived with a particular goal. Your woman’s words sparked a series of thoughts in my head. Now I just want to help, that’s it. Going forward, my son resolves his own problems. I’m done cleaning up those for him. It’s time he acts like an adult.”
“Hello,” Stacy finally answers the phone. “It’s been too long.”
“Sorry about that. Are you busy?” I know I should call more often, but I forget or get busy. Plus, it’s hard, Stacy looks so much like her sister that it hurts seeing her.
“I’m doing laundry. So no,” she snickers. “What’s up?”
I explain the situation the best I can with Bethany’s help. There are lots of ahas and okays. I can almost see her nodding. After my brief explanation, I ask, “So, are you free to help?”
“I’m in the car now. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. I’m glad you called. See you soon.”
I hang up and lean back in my chair. “She’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Bethany grabs the paper and looks at it again. While she’s doing that, both men excuse themselves and walk into the other room to chat. Watching them, I have to wonder how many times they’ve done this.
Softly, Bethany whispers, “Thank you. Lately, it seems like you always know exactly what I need, right when I need it. One of these days, I’m going to pay you back.”
“I look forward to that day,” I tell her as I lean in and kiss her cheek. “I mean, you are my woman, and that’s what we men do for our women.”
The sight of her blushing makes me chuckle. “I don’t know why he assumed that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It may not be true now, but maybe one day it will be.”
I don’t know why I said it, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it. Instead, she nods and smiles sweetly at me, and damn if my heart doesn’t skip a beat.