“Ah, Harlow Hayes negotiates. Deal. Should we seal it with a kiss?”
“Matt Knight.”Daggum Milo.“Bodie’s here. You’re going to see the judge.”
“Officer Patitucci, bro, your timing . . .” Matt sighed and pressed his forehead against Harlow’s. “I’ll take an IOU.”
“I gave you two extra minutes.” Milo swung open the cell door. “Not my fault you couldn’t get it done. I’d have kissed her a half dozen times already.”
So Matt stood before the judge on a Wednesday afternoon, a bit bleary-eyed and disheveled, with Harlow vibes thumping in his chest. He was released on his own recognizance while the state investigated additional charges.
“Matt,” Bodie said as they walked out of the courthouse, “stay away from Dale Cranston. This is two misdemeanor counts now.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll talk to the assistant state attorney when I get to the office.”
On his way home, Matt stopped to see Granny. She was sweeping up the kitchen, declaring there was no need for folks to make such a fuss over her.
“It’s just a bump and a bruise. What’s going on with you?”
“You mean besides spending the night in jail?”
“Matty, do me a favor. Don’t stay angry at yourself. Don’t hold anything against Dale for what he says. Let’s show kindness and mercy. It’s the way of Immanuel.”
“Harlow was saying perhaps moments like these actually lead us to our destiny.”
“She’s a wise woman.”
Matt walked home by way of the Starlight. The orange Notification of Demolition signs glinted in the afternoon sun, and he felt as if the Starlight had lost a little piece of its soul.
Inside, the music played but the atmosphere was subdued.
“The joy seems gone, Matt,” Harlow said.
Since he was flying back to LA on Friday, hopefully he wasn’t really fired, he and Harlow made plans for tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
At home, Dad had scrambled up some eggs and laid thick slices of bacon in the cast-iron skillet for dinner.
“I’ve been thinking,” Dad said, getting up to pour another cup of coffee from the old percolator, a wedding present from whenhe married Mom. “What if I bring Granny out to Hollywood in August? Get her away from the demolition talk and the death of the Starlight. I can take time off. I’ll be finishing a big job next month, and the crew will have finishing work to keep them busy. Noble Haney can run things for me.”
“If you can get her to leave, sure. By the way, I’m selling the beach house and buying a sweet place I saw in the Hills. It’s small but homey.” Matt motioned to the kitchen. “Like this. There’s plenty of room for you and Granny. The back deck has a great view of the city.”
“I’ll talk to her.” Dad doctored his coffee with a scoop of sugar. “Say, do you think I could meet the Duke? The last movie I ever saw with your Uncle LJ wasStagecoach.”
“Dad, the Duke died ten years ago.”
“Then I’ll go by that theater with all the footprints.” A shadow of sadness passed over his face. “LJ and I sure loved that movie.”
“I wish I’d met him.”
“Me too. And your grandpa. He was a son-of-a-gun but a warrior. I see a bit of him in you—and not because you keep decking Dale Cranston.”
The conversation moved to town happenings, how to get Granny to California, Matt telling Dad he was buying him a dishwasher as he hung up the dishrag and dried his hands on a terry cloth towel.
They both turned at the knock on the kitchen door. A grim-faced Bodie stood on the other side.
“They’re bringing charges.” He set his briefcase on the table and accepted a cup of coffee from Dad. “We’re going to trial.”
32
SEA BLUE BEACH
JUNE
