“So you’re going tokillthem?”
Gingerly, J.P. took two steps toward the coffee table and lowered the sandwich to the surface, suddenly needing both hands free. But when he wove his arms tightly over his chest, Nora figured he only wanted to square off. She was ready.
“I need them gone, Nora. I thought you might know of a relatively humane way to take care of that.”
“The words humane and murder don’t go together!” Nora rushed forward, a mere foot from J.P. Her breath came out in hot puffs, chest ballooning with rising fury.
“All right, friends,” Tilly swooped into the room, sans post-flu snacks. Her hands came to clasp Nora’s shoulders and swivel her away from where J.P. stood. Even April positioned herself between the two. “Let’s take things down a couple of notches.”
“I’m sorry.” J.P.’s features were slack. “I really didn’t mean to get you all riled up like this. I just thought that being a beekeeper and all, you might know of a way I could fix this situation.”
“He wants to kill the bees!” Nora’s wild gaze bounced between her best friends. “Kill them!”
“I don’twantto, but I don’t really see any other option.” He shrugged so noncommittally it made Nora’s blood boil in her veins. “I thought I would give you a chance to do it your way before I called an exterminator. I was just being polite.”
Nora was going to pass out. Her knees unhinged. Tilly caught her as she sagged into her arms, weak from the last twenty-four hours and exasperated with J.P.’s antics.
“Youcannotcall an exterminator.”
“What do you suggest I do?” His hands flew out in the space between them. “Every day I’m unable to work on that house is money out of my pocket. This is my livelihood, Nora. I can’t have some silly bees ruining that.”
For a moment so fleeting she almost missed it, she felt a twinge of empathy. She got it. Unexpectedly canceling on her clients this morning was a hit to her pocketbook too. But her dedication to saving the bees was more pressing than J.P.’s paycheck.
“I can remove them,” she said through her clenched teeth. “But it won’t be by tomorrow and it’s not a simple process.”
“When can you do it?”
She mentally scanned through her cleaning calendar, coming up empty. “Maybe late next week?”
J.P.’s eyes widened. “Next week? That’s not going to work.” He fluttered a dismissive hand. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have even bothered coming here. I’ll take care of it on my own.”
“I can do it the day after tomorrow!” she blurted, the outburst snapping his eyes to hers. “But I’ll need you there for it. It’s a two-person job. And it’s not easy. It takes time to do it right.”
“Fine.” He nodded a few times in a row. “I can make that work.”
“I need you to promise me you won’t do anything to harm them between now and then.”
His wordless gaze didn’t give her any confidence, but when he slipped his hand out for a shake, she let herself relax a little.
“I’ll see you on Thursday, Jeffery Peter.”
He’d already turned to go, but shouted, “Not even close,” over his shoulder.
Chapter Sixteen
J.P. let the leash go slack at his side. He really didn’t even need it. When he took Waylon out for a jog around town, the dog didn’t stray any further than a couple of feet. Waylon had warmed up to people, but still wasn’t a huge fan of strangers and the sidewalks on Harmony Ridge Row were more congested this time of year, with children out of school and families enjoying time together outside.
But out on the county roads where the pavement shifted to gravel and then to dirt, J.P. let the hound run free. That’s when Waylon would really open up the throttle and take off, his long, lean legs cantering over the landscape with booming strides. J.P. would find another gear of his own and race to catch up. It was a chase, a thrill. J.P. loved the ringing in his ears from the exertion, the way his heart felt like a bass drum pounding in his heaving chest.
They ran off all of their extra energy early that morning, and when J.P.’s legs had practically turned to Jell-O, the racing pair eased up and turned the corner to make their way back into town.
It was nearing nine o’clock now. Shops flipped theirClosedsigns toOpen. Sandwich boards were placed on sidewalks displaying current sales and flash bargain deals. J.P. could smell the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread coming from Perfect Harmony, the local bakery up the Row. Bells chimed above doorways as shop owners greeted their first eager customers of the day, a melodic jingle that served as the soundtrack of the street.
Waylon tugged on the length of his leash in a stretch to get to the water bowl just in front of the Bow Wow Boutique. With his huge, floppy tongue, he lapped at the fresh drink, getting more on the pavement than into his mouth.
“He’s not great with table manners,” J.P. apologized to Dora May and a woman he recognized as her daughter, Charlotte, when they came out of the store with a treat for the pup. Charlotte had recently purchased some land pretty close to the Callahan property with plans to open up her own animal rescue. Funding for the local shelter where J.P. had gotten Waylon was recently cut, and Charlotte’s vision was something J.P. could get behind.
“Most of them aren’t.” Dora May waited until Waylon sat at attention by her feet before lowering the snack for him to take from her palm. “Thought you’d be working out at the Callahan property today. Isn’t that where you rush off to early each morning?”
