The Will(179)

The sheriff and Mickey were much closer when the sheriff reiterated, “Sir, I will not ask again. Step away from Ms. Malone.”

He didn’t get the opportunity to comply. Mickey wrapped his hand around my bicep and slid me out from in front of Uncle Davis then he pressed me behind him as he stepped between me and my uncle.

Uncle Davis glared at Mickey. “I wasn’t done talkin’ to my niece.”

“Oh yeah you were,” Mickey replied quietly.

Uncle Davis’s brows shot up. “You takin’ on an old man?”

“Just tellin’ you whatever else you gotta say to Josephine, you’re not gonna say it,” Mickey returned then shifted slightly my way and ordered, “Get to your car, honey.”

“Don’t you move a f*ckin’ muscle,” Uncle Davis commanded, again lifting a hand and jabbing a finger my way.

Mickey stepped to the side, between me and my uncle’s finger, at the same time shielding me from view.

“Sir, calm down and move away from Mr. Donovan and Ms. Malone,” the sheriff demanded.

Uncle Davis leaned to the side to catch my eyes. “This is not done, bitch. I’m gonna get what’s mine, however I gotta do it.”

“Now I gotta ask you to stop threatening Ms. Malone and remind you that not only are you doin’ that in front of witnesses but an officer of the law.”

Uncle Davis turned to the sheriff. “You think I give a shit?”

“I think you aren’t very smart if you don’t,” the sheriff returned.

Uncle Davis opened his mouth to speak but I did it before him.

“Bring it on.”

I felt all attention come to me and stepped from behind Mickey so Uncle Davis could see me clearly. Mickey wrapped his fingers around my wrist but that was all he did before I started talking again.

“Do you honestly think I’m still frightened of you?” I asked.

“I think you never learned that lesson from your father like you should,” he answered.

Highly inappropriate.

So Uncle Davis.

“Yes, I did, Uncle Davis,” I told him. “I absolutely did that last time when he put me in the hospital.”

I felt Mickey and the sheriff go alert but I wasn’t done.

“But I’m older now. Wiser. And you’re older too. Weak. And not very smart. And all this is just what you do. Making people’s lives miserable because you’re a sociopath and you enjoy it. I think it’s only fair to warn you that you can put a good deal of effort into trying to make me miserable but you won’t succeed. It will end being quite frustrating so I’d advise you to cut your losses now.”


“I got a hankerin’ to put a fair amount of effort into it, Josephine,” Uncle Davis replied and I shrugged when he did.

“My invitation still stands. Have at it. It’ll be your time and money that you lose.”

His eyes narrowed on me, something shifting in them before they did, and he offered, “Make things easier for you. You give me a check, I’ll get outta town.”

And I knew precisely what that meant. I remembered the way I grew up. I remembered the way he and my father were. How they lived. How my father living that way meant I lived. Even as I kid, I knew it because, especially as a kid, you couldn’t miss it.

“What you’re saying is, Boston Stone paid for your trip here and now he’s washed his hands of you, you don’t have the money to get wherever home is.”

He glared at me but shifted on his feet.

This meant I was correct.

“You won’t get a penny from me,” I told him.

“Then I’ll get it all from you by takin’ that house and Ma’s money,” he fired back.

“If you honestly think you can win that fight, bring that on too,” I retorted. “It’s not me who’s seventy-two years old and out of money in a place without a friend.”

“We’ll see,” he returned.

“We most certainly will,” I agreed. Then I dismissed him and looked to the sheriff. “Lovely to see you again, sheriff.”

“Coert,” he corrected, grinning at me.

Another unusual name. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it but it was better than Boston.

“Coert.” I smiled at him then looked up at Mickey. “Thank you, Mickey.”

“No problem, babe,” he replied.

“Maybe you’ll come to dinner soon?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Good,” I murmured then looked between the two men, ignoring my uncle, and decided to get on with my day. “Later, gentleman,” I said as I started toward the door.

“Later, Josie,” Coert called.

“Later, darlin’,” Mickey said.

I lifted a hand in a wave and walked out the door.

I was halfway back to Lavender House when my phone rang. I took the chance to glance at the screen as it was sitting face up on my passenger seat. When I saw who was calling, I broke a rule I normally always kept, grabbed my mobile and put it to my ear.

“Hello, darling,” I greeted.

“Seriously?” Jake replied.

Again, I thought this word was overused, and further, particularly in this instance, I didn’t understand it.

So I asked, “Seriously what?”