“Ms. April, did you paint the Robisson’s Explorer hot pink?” Sheriff Dunn asks me, and I can tell he’s trying to keep from laughing too.
“Yes, sir,” I admit.
Deputy Parks shakes his head and fixes me with a stern look. “Remi that’s vandalism, and we’re going to have to take you in for that,” he tells me as he reaches for what I’m assuming are handcuffs on his utility belt.
“They agreed to it,” I announce, and everyone’s eyes snap to mine.
“We did no such thing,” Mrs. Robisson insists. “She has been harassing us with this foul color ever since she dyed our Tank’s fur during her heathen April Fools’ shenanigans.”
I cut her off. “Psh, he liked it, and you know it. Real men wear pink, didn’t you ever see those t-shirts?”
Mrs. Robisson ignores me and rounds on the sheriff. “I insist something be done about this immediately.” She gestures from me to the bright pink SUV behind her. To be fair, the paint job looks amazing.
“Ms. April, what evidence do you have that the Robisson’s agreed to paint their new car pink?” the Deputy monotones to me.
I pull the papers out of my back pocket and hand them to him. “It’s on page three. Their signatures are on the bottom,” I tell him, and he unfolds the papers and flips the pages.
After scanning it quickly, he nods and then looks to the Robissons. “It does state it here and these do look like your signatures at the bottom.”
Mr. Robbison snatches the papers out of the deputy’s hands and scours them. “These are the papers we had to sign for the repairs, but there is no way I would have agreed to paint my new car pink,” he insists.
Sherif Dunn loops both of his thumbs into his belt. “Did you read it through, Frank?”
“Well, no, but I was told it was just an authorization for the repairs.”
I nod my head in understanding and point my thumb in Theo’s direction. “Theo can tell you all about the crazy things that can happen when you don’t read the fine print,” I tell them, and Theo gives me an unamused look. “To soon?” I ask sweetly.
Mr. Robisson loses it and starts tearing up the paper in his hands. He’s making an odd squeal-growl noise that’s actually a pretty good impersonation of a bear call. He throws the pieces of torn paper up in the air and glares at me, anger bleeding from his gaze. Madix, Brant, and Theo step in front of me, blocking me from his burning gaze. I love it when they go all macho.
I hear the sheriff sigh. “That is quite enough, Mr. Robisson. You will pick up every scrap of paper you just threw. We take littering very seriously around these parts. It’s a thousand dollar fine for that,” Sheriff Dunn says, and I have to cover my mouth again to keep from laughing.
I peek around Brant’s shoulder to see the Robissons gaping at the sheriff, open-mouthed and furious. “My car looks likethat, and I’m the one getting in trouble?”
I step around the wall of muscle surrounding me. “I already have an order for it to be painted back to whatever color you want. That was page four of the papers you just ripped up. April’s Fools!” I try to joke. The Robissons don’t laugh.
“Tough crowd,” Theo chuckles.
Before the Robissons can stop glaring enough to reply, my dad pulls up next to the pink Explorer and climbs out of his old truck. He runs his eyes over the hot pink monstrosity and then fixes his stare on me.
I wave innocently. “What are you doing here? I thought lunch was tomorrow?” I ask, confused.
“I heard the call go out on the radio, so I thought I’d check things out.”
“Dad, you need a life. Get a girlfriend, or boyfriend for that matter. Hell, get one of each. But stop sitting around and listening to the police radio,” I exclaim.
He ignores me and looks to Sheriff Dunn. “Everything okay here?”
I roll my eyes.
“Just a misunderstanding, Sheriff.” Even theactualactive sheriff calls my dad sheriff. “The Robissons are going to pick up the paper they threw everywhere and then be on their way. Isn’t that right Mr. and Mrs. Robisson?” Sheriff Dunn asks.
They both grumble under their breaths but nod, and start cleaning up, some of their fury ebbing out as soon as my dad showed up. He walks over to Madix, Brant, and Theo, and they all exchange handshakes and back slaps as they start talking shop about the range and business.
“You lot given anymore thought to joining the planning committee for next year’s scenario?” he asks, and I growl in frustration at the question.
“We told you. We’re not getting wrapped up in all of that. They’re doing the bare minimum to meet the terms of the will and that’s it.”
“They could be assets, Remi. Think about how much better the scenarios could be with their guidance and experience.”
