Stirring Up Trouble (14 page)

“Bail you out? What have you done?” Logan asked, then stopped himself. “Wait, don't answer that. Don't admit to anything until I get there.”

“It's a little late to play that game, but come on down anyway. I need all the help I can get.”

Logan got dressed as quickly as he could and then drove around the square to the station. He might not have the prestigious reputation the Chamberlain firm had, but people knew they could call Logan when they got into trouble and he would help them. In this case, it sounded more like he was there for guidance than to try and prove Clark's innocence, but that was okay with him, too. Building a relationship with Judge Griffin would only help his clients in the future.

Over the last few months, he'd gotten familiar with the check-in process, ending up in the back where the final officer would buzz him through the doors to the containment and interrogation rooms.

“I'm here to see Clark Newton and pay his bail.”

The officer looked down at his ledger and nodded. “The Penis Picasso is down the hall to the far left in cell two. The officer will take you to the bursar to pay bail when you're ready.”

The door buzzed open, muffling Logan's groan. The Penis Picasso? Really? He had the damnedest luck in drawing the craziest cases in town. He found Clark in one of the two cells they had at the Rosewood Police Department. They served mostly as drunk tanks and holding areas, and today, apparently, they held the most notorious criminal in town since the Rosewood Peeper, one of Logan's other clients.

Clark leapt to his feet, running to the cell bars and gripping them. The already thin man looked more gaunt than usual. He had gray circles under his eyes and his cheekbones were more pronounced than the last time he saw him. Clark looked like a man living through an incredible amount of stress.

“Thanks for coming so quickly, Logan. I didn't know who to call about this.”

“No problem.” Logan slumped down into the chair just outside the cell. “Tell me why you're in here, man. I have to admit I wasn't expecting something like this from you.”

Clark sat back down on the bench and shook his head. “I wasn't expecting something like this from myself, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It's no secret that print media is dying. Everyone knows it. My paper's stayed afloat for as long as it has because Rosewood is a time warp. A lot of the older residents still get the paper every morning and read each word. The younger folks, though, they get all their news on the Internet. The
Rosewood Times
will go extinct as the older subscribers die off.”

Logan knew the state of newspapers was a rough one. Even in the bigger towns, papers were cutting back how many issues they put out in a week and condensing offices to save money. It wasn't the greatest business to be in. He just wasn't certain how spray-painted penises helped matters.

“About a month ago,” Clark continued, “someone spray-painted that penis on the side of the Piggly Wiggly. It was the first real piece of news I'd had in weeks. It wasn't the kind of news I wanted to cover, but around here things are so quiet that any story is a story. I jumped on it, riding the wave of scandal. To my surprise, the issue with it on the cover sold double what the previous issue sold.”

“You didn't do it?” Logan asked.

“Not the first one. But a couple of days later, I slipped out in the night and painted another one to keep the mystery going. That day, sales of the paper tripled and I picked up ten new subscribers. By the time I painted the third one, I came up with the idea to start calling the mystery graffiti artist the Penis Picasso. The picture of it debuted with the headline ‘The Penis Picasso Strikes Again
,
' and suddenly the paper was performing better than it had in over a year. I couldn't believe it, but with every instance my sales went up.”

“You were vandalizing public property, Clark.”

“I know. It was stupid.” Clark's face dropped into his hands. “But I'd been on the verge of closing the paper. Everything I have is sunk into it and I was going to lose it all. I was desperate and in the scheme of things, it seemed pretty harmless. I wasn't hurting anyone. I was only going to do it one or two more times, then stop, but . . . I guess I should've known better than to mess with a Chamberlain.”

Logan perked up in his seat. “Come again?”

“Well, I guess Maddie and Emmett started looking to catch me because they'd gotten tasked with cleaning up after me. Spray-painting the hood of her car was a little bold, I'll admit, but I wanted them to back off. I waited a week, thinking they'd given up, and decided I would do just one more. I wanted it to pack a punch, and what would be better than to scandalize the fanciest, most uptight business in town? I know I shouldn't have gone after her bakery, but I never thought she'd pull a gun on me.”

“Madelyn Chamberlain?”

“Yep. She threatened to shoot me in the junk. I think she meant it, too. That stick up her ass makes her very crabby. I kept hoping that Emmett would loosen a few of her screws, if you know what I mean, but even he couldn't control her.”

Logan had to chuckle, both at Clark's imagery and the idea of him being threatened by the oldest Chamberlain daughter. “So you got caught red-handed?”

Clark nodded. “Yeah, there's no sense in attempting pleas of innocence. I just gotta try to get the best deal I can and hope it doesn't cost me everything I was trying so hard to save.”

Logan nodded and stood up. “Well, let's pay your bail and get you out of here.”

Chapter Fourteen

Emmett watched his
surroundings like a hawk. It was paranoid, he knew, but he needed to use more discretion now than ever before. He'd never thought twice about driving out to the Chamberlain mansion before. If anyone asked, he'd tell them he was doing an estimate for some carpentry work Miss Adelia wanted done. Why else would he be there?

Now, with the way things were with Maddie, it was different. They'd hardly even talked about his carpentry work. Between their war, community service, and the unexpected relationship that had developed, he hadn't had time to take on any side jobs. If she were to find out he was at the mansion, she wouldn't take it well, he knew it.

He'd been lucky that Adelia hadn't called while Maddie was in the apartment. He'd gotten out of the shower that day and slipped his phone into his pocket without looking at it. It was hours later that he realized he had a missed call from Adelia that came in right around the time she left. That was a close call.

He'd called Adelia back and suggested they meet on Monday. Woody's was closed, but Madelyn's wasn't, so it reduced the risk of running into her. To make double sure, he drove past the bakery on his way to Willow Lake, where the Chamberlain mansion was located. He could see her through the window, talking to a customer.

Satisfied, he continued to the house to meet with Adelia. The Chamberlains' butler, Winston, met him at the door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Sawyer,” he said, letting him inside. “Miss Adelia is waiting for you in the sunroom.”

“Thanks, Winston,” he said, heading toward the back of the house.

He found her sitting at a table with a full tea service waiting on his arrival. Miss Adelia was fond of her tea parties out in the gazebo on the lawn, but when the weather was chilly, she moved either inside the house or into her sunroom.

In the last twenty-four hours, fall had arrived with a vengeance. Emmett had to drag his one and only coat out of the closet—he hadn't needed many in Tampa. Once he stepped through the French doors that led to her protected space, he was able to slip it off. It was comfortably pleasant in the room with the sun streaming through the glass and flowers hanging in pots, making them feel like they were still outdoors.

“Emmett,” Miss Adelia declared when she saw him. “I'm glad you're here. Have a seat and I'll pour you some tea.”

By the time he sat and had unzipped his leather portfolio to look over the printouts he'd brought for her accounts, she'd poured them both cups of tea and doctored them with cream and sugar, accordingly.

“Cookie made her ooey-gooey butter cake today,” she noted as she took her first sip of tea. “Be sure to save some room for that or you'll be disappointed.”

Emmett had no doubt that Maddie got her love of baking from the Chamberlains' housekeeper. He'd never eaten a full meal at the house, but Adelia always offered him tea service, or at the very least, iced tea and cookies. The treats were always homemade and always wonderful. Growing up around that might've inspired him to become a baker, too. That, or a personal trainer to work off all those calories.

With that pleasant thought in mind, he reached for his plate and piled it with a few sweet and savory choices. There were finger sandwiches with egg salad or pimento cheese, cheese straws, an assortment of cookies, and a few gooey golden squares that could only be ooey-gooey butter cake.

“So tell me, what're you wanting to do with your investment accounts?” he asked.

Emmett took extremely detailed notes as Adelia listed all the changes she was looking to make. They were subtle shifts, but in large enough quantities to make a big difference. It was a smart move. She was shoring up some of her more risky elements with more stable investments. At her age, that's exactly what she needed to be doing.

“And what was it you said about more funds?” he asked as he wrote down his last note.

“Oh, yes. I've come into a little bit of money that I'd like to add in, about twenty-five grand. I'd like to put most of it against those bonds we were discussing. Maybe invest the rest in that solar start-up company. I've got a check for it here,” she said, reaching for her purse. She flipped through her pocketbook, frowning into the recesses of it. “Well, shoot,” she said at last.

Emmett looked up from his notebook and egg salad sandwich in surprise. “What is it?”

“Well, since I knew you were coming, I called the bank this morning to have them draft a certified check for my account deposit. I know that makes it easier for you without the holds they always place on personal checks. But then I got all wrapped up in correspondence this morning and I didn't go into town to pick it up. Mr. Osborne, the bank manager, has it held for me. I'll have to pick it up and bring it by the bar later. Will that be okay?”

Emmett knew better than to say no. It was a risk for Adelia to come to the bar with Maddie so close by, but there was nothing he could do about it. “Sure thing. I'm usually awake by two or three in the afternoon during the week.” Sometimes he got up earlier, but if she showed up around that time, Maddie should be busy welcoming Gertie and getting her up to speed on the afternoon's chores.

Miss Adelia shook her head. “I don't know how you keep that miserable schedule, dear, but I'll text you to let you know when I plan to come by. It might not be until Wednesday or Thursday. It depends on what else needs doing around here.”

“That's fine. I don't think waiting a day or two will impact your portfolio. I'll go ahead and make the other changes you want. The things you're interested in investing in are fairly stable.”

“Good, that's settled. Now we can enjoy our tea with less-trying conversation.” Adelia set her purse aside and scooped up her cup of tea. “So tell me, how are things with you and Maddie?” she asked.

Emmett stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Miss Adelia arched a delicate white eyebrow at him. “I'm not a fool, dear. You two were at each other's throats and now the war is suddenly over. You worked as a team to capture Clark Newton. I'm sure there's more to it, so please don't bother with playing ignorant.”

“I wouldn't dare try,” Emmett admitted. He knew the Chamberlain matriarch was sharp; she didn't miss many details. He'd heard stories of her infamous interference in fixing up both Blake and Grant with their current fiancées. It made him wonder if, somehow, his relationship with Maddie was her doing as well. Had she even needed to make investment changes or was it just a good excuse to lure him here and pump him for information? If that were true, he needed to stay on his toes.

“I guess my confusion lies in trying to label what it is that's developing between us,” he explained. “I think we're done fighting. Officially, we've gone on one date, but we've spent a lot of time together in general. It's too early to say much more than that.”

“You like her,” Miss Adelia pointed out. “And she likes you. Even when you two were fighting, I could see a sparkle in her eye when she spoke about you. I, too, am curious where it'll go. I know better than anyone how Maddie can be. She was spoiled mercilessly as a child. Her father treated her like the sun rose and set at her command. As she got older, she became quite the handful. She's my kin and I love her, but I know how difficult she can make your life if she wants to. I'm hoping that you can”—she hesitated for a moment—“bring balance to the Force, so to speak.”

Had the elder Mrs. Chamberlain just made a
Star Wars
reference? There were more layers to her than even he knew. “Me?”

“Yes. You're a self-made millionaire, but you're very down-to-earth. You don't walk around with your nose in the air. I like that about you. Even when you weren't pretending to be a poor bartender, you were never arrogant or treated people like you're better than them. I think that's important. I think Maddie could use that kind of influence in her life.”

Emmett shrugged away her compliment. He'd always been fairly down-to-earth. His family had money, but none of it had gone to him, so he'd done his own thing. It never occurred to him that he
was
better than anyone else, but he knew from Maddie's own admission that she had been guilty of that. Was he a good influence on her? Since they'd started hanging out she'd gotten arrested, passed out drunk at a bar, and tried to shoot a man for daring to spray-paint her bakery. Not the best track record.

“I'm not sure I'm a good influence on anyone, especially your granddaughter. I'm living a double life. I've lied to every person in this town.”

“Have you?” Adelia asked.

He hadn't outright lied, true, but he hadn't been honest, either. “I've lied by omission.”

“Every facet of your life isn't the business of everyone around you. Some things are meant to be private, and if you're wanting to put the past behind you, I see no problem with that. It's not as though you're going by an assumed name and dye your hair blond so no one will recognize you.”

“You may not take issue with it, but I worry about Maddie,” he admitted. “I don't think she'll take it as easily as others might when she finds out the truth about me.”

“You mean when she learns that her forbidden, blue-collar romance is really an affair with a wealthy bachelor in disguise? What part of that lie could possibly be disappointing?”

“You make it sound like a soap opera plot,” he said with a chuckle. “It's not what I'm lying about so much, as that I'm lying in general. There will be drama, I know it.”

“Well,” Adelia said, setting aside her teacup, “Madelyn is a very dramatic girl. But tell me the truth . . . Are you worried she'll feel betrayed because you lied about your past, or are you more concerned that she'll like you even more when she realizes you're rich?”

That was a good question. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had a hard time enjoying himself when he felt like this was hanging over his head. “I like that she's seeing me without knowing the truth. I'm not sure that my influence has anything to do with it, but she does seem to be relaxing a little. Dating a lowly bartender is a pretty big step for her if she doesn't know the truth. Did you tell her?”

“Of course not. I told you I'd keep your secret. She's involved with you because she likes you, not because of what you can buy her. But you're right: the fact that you two are dating is a huge step for her. She's always been very cautious about who she dates after what happened to her in high school.”

Emmett frowned. “What happened to her in high school?”

Adelia waved away his question. “That's her tale to tell, if she chooses. But the point is that she's gone out of her comfort zone to see you. I think that means she's growing up and truly likes you as you are. When the truth about you comes out, I think things will be fine. Hopefully your money will just be an unexpected bonus.”

Maybe Adelia was right. Maybe he was worried that she'd like him more if she knew the truth. He'd had his fair share of gold diggers come after him in Tampa. There'd been a time when he was willing to spend money on a beautiful woman while he enjoyed her company. But that was long ago. He lived a simple life now—one that he enjoyed. If Maddie knew the truth, would she expect him to change? To live the millionaire life she thought he should be living?

He wasn't interested in that at all. He liked the easy life of Emmett the bartender. He could only hope that was enough for Maddie, too.

Maddie was certainly getting
used to having Gertie around. In the afternoons while Gertie watched the counter, Maddie'd been able to meet with Alice Jordan about the movie-night event and do some work upstairs on the tea room. She'd even started waking up an hour later. Gertie liked staying in the evening so much that the two of them had started making up whatever doughs and batters they could the night before. Some things had to be mixed and immediately baked, but everything else was made up and refrigerated overnight. It had been a tremendous help, and Maddie didn't understand why she'd never considered this before.

Today, Maddie was studying a couple of different paint swatches, trying to decide what color she liked best for upstairs. At this rate, she could have the tea room up and running ahead of schedule.

“I like the abalone pink better than the rosette,” Gertie said.

So did Maddie. It was a delicate shade that brought to mind classic Victorian tea service, and that was exactly what she was going for. Paired with cherry tables, lace curtains, and just the right artwork, it would bring the room together perfectly. “Abalone it is,” she decided, tossing the other swatches into the trash so she wouldn't second-guess herself.

When she looked up from the winning swatch, she spied Pepper on the sidewalk outside the hair salon next door. She'd been hoping to get the chance to talk to her future sister-in-law, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself until now. “Can you watch the shop for a second? I need to talk to Pepper.”