“My job is to make sure Ordinary is as safe as possible, and that all citizens and visitors know that their voices will be heard.”
I took a bite of burger.
“All right, hold on.” He thumbed his phone, set it on the table. “These answers are boring. If you want me to use any of this footage to help your town, you’ll need to step it up.”
“Step it up?”
“Be…interesting. I’m doing you a favor here.”
I took another big bite of burger and took my time chewing, then sat back.
“How I see it, Mr. Baum, is you are getting free content for your travel show, which may or may not grow your audience. We are getting the eyes of your viewers, which may or may not grow our tourist traffic.
“That’s it. No favors given or owed. We don’t owe you a show. What you see, is what we are. No big secrets, no weird crimes, just regular people getting through their days. We’ve got a great beach, a great brewery, and a lot of events run by our great events coordinator, Bertie. End of story.”
“Okay,” he said, slowly. “I like that. The direct approach. But can you do it without the glare? At least act friendly?”
Before I could answer, he had the phone in his hand again. “I’m here with the chief of police, Delaney Reed. She suggested Jump Off Jack’s for lunch.
“Road Bomb: Ordinary has an award-winning brewery, and the food’s great too. Thanks for the tip, Chief Reed.”
“Delaney,” I said. “I’d love to take credit, but that goes to Chris Lagon, our master brewer.”
“And that’s him right there.” He swung the phone toward Chris, who raised a hand in a wave. The phone came back to me.
“So, Delaney, if you had a chance to talk to all the Road Bombers out there, what would you tell them about your town?”
“We have fourteen miles of beaches—all public—and along with the award-winning brewery, we have an incredible bakery, wonderful small shops, and fantastic artists.” I pointed toward Odin, who offered a grumpy grunt.
“Our lighthouses are said to be haunted, our off-shore fishing and whale watching are always a good time, and it doesn’t actually rain every day of the year.”
“Sounds like a Bomb of a place,” he said. “Does the town put on any unique events during the year?”
I laughed. “We have something going on almost every week. The event coming up this Friday is a town-wide murder mystery.”
“Bombing,” he said. “Are you going to be in it?”
“No, I have a wedding rehearsal on the same day.”
“You’re getting married?”
“I am.”
“Congratulations! Who’s the lucky person?”
“Ryder Bailey.”
“Ryder Bailey,” he repeated like he was setting that name to memory. “Is he from Ordinary?”
“Grew up here. We both did.”
“Childhood sweethearts? Aw…Isn’t that the cutest? So romantic.”
I shrugged. “He’s amazing. The love of my life.”
“Oh? Would you do anything for him? Climb tall mountains, sail wide seas, follow him into heaven or he—h, e, double hockey sticks? We don’t drop the curse bombs on the Road Bomb.”
“Yes,” I said honestly, and then, “We’re very excited about the wedding, thanks.”
