Junior plopped a hand on the refrigerator door, and seeing an advantage, Seth ducked beneath and scurried to the far side of the kitchen, keeping the table between them. He glowered at Junior through a dozen rosebuds.
“No need to play coy, Mr.… Seth.” The grin came back. “Now, if we combine our forces, we’ll be unstoppable. I have hundreds of plans for this town, and with your backing, together we can put Possum Kingdom on the map.”
“What are you doing? Running for some kind of office?” “In a manner of speaking, I reckon you might say I am.” “What do you want me to do? Post flyers? Stuff envelopes?”
A chuckle emerged from Junior’s barrel chest. “Oh, a sense of humor. I like that in a man. No, I’ve got something more practical in mind. There’s only one person standing in the way of what I want to do for this town, but if you side with me, the good doctor won’t present much of a problem.”
The good doctor?“Dustin? What’s Dustin got to do with this?”
“Everything.” Junior approached slowly, palms up in an “I’m harmless” posture. “He goes with the status quo. Doesn’t have any use for progress, much like your aunt, God rest her soul. While it’s understandable that a lady of advanced years would resist change, Dr. Livingston is a young man and should make better use of the opportunities at his fingertips.”
Seth nearly growled. He wasn’t too sure where he and Dustin stood right now, what with Dustin’s sudden evasiveness, but he didn’t much care for this man talking about his lover/friend/fuck buddy/or whatever the hell Dusty was in such a manner.
Oblivious to Seth’s rising hackles, Junior continued, “Consider the advances we’ve made in the last thirty years. Cell phones….”
“Can’t get a signal out here.”
“Satellite TV.”
“Got rabbit ears.”
“Internet.”
“I go to the library to check e-mails. You’re not naming a thing I can’t live without.”
Junior darted around the table, hemming Seth up against the sink. “You’re a nice-looking fella, stuck out here by your lonesome. Whaddya do for company, hmmm? Not only will we rule the whole county, I’ll have you throwing rocks at any other man.” Before Seth could execute an escape, Junior descended, taking advantage of a surprised gasp to slither his tongue into Seth’s open mouth.
Too stunned to react, it took a few rounds of tongue-on-tongue action before Seth pushed Junior away. “What the fuck are you doing?” “Now, there’s no need to play hard to get. We’re both grown men. And deep down inside, we want the same thing.”
“For you to get the fuck out of my house?”
Junior gave Seth a rueful smile. “I imagine it’s a bit overwhelming right now, too much happening too fast. But once you’ve had time to think things over, you’ll agree that I’m the best man for the job. I’ll make this town what it should be. No outsiders! I’ll get the government to recognize our unique status, maybe even build a casino and make every last one of us rich. You’ve certainly got enough land to build on.”
Anger flashed through Seth, lighting a fire that boiled his blood. “Mr. Timmerman, you’ve overstepped your bounds and I’d like you to leave.” Having already seen how fast the man could move, the only safe place for Timmerman was a few counties over.
“All right, all right.” Junior splayed his hands, managing to project a superior air even in a submissive posture. “Give it some time and give me a call. I’m in the phone book. I’ll see myself out.”
Seth didn’t stop trembling until the whine of the BMW’s engine faded to nothing. He took a deep breath, hanging on to the counter lest his quivering knees suddenly fail. “What the fuck was that all about, and what’s it got to do with Dustin?”
Not only did Seth lock his door before turning in for the night, he slept with Great-great-grandpa’s sword.
THEnext morning a panel van pulled up bright and early, two guys in coveralls hopping out. “Where do you want the satellite dish, Mr. McDaniel?” one asked.
“Satellite dish? I didn’t order satellite.”
“Says right here, bought and paid for a year’s subscription, including the special channels.” The guy winked. “Even the X-rated ones.”
“A year? I’m not gonna be here a year.”
The man scratched his balding head. “Well, somebody paid for it, might as well enjoy it.”
An hour later, the men left, leaving behind a listing of Seth’s lovely new premium channels and a converter box to allow the ancient TV to take advantage of them. His laptop sat on his aunt’s rolltop desk, catching up on several weeks’ worth of updates via his new high-speed Internet connection. No doubt lingered in his mind as to who’d paid for the luxury, but why? Nobody coughed up a year’s satellite service to buy a vote, did they?
He pulled out his cell phone, planning to head to the attic, hoping to avoid having to stretch across the buffet to make a call from his aunt’s oddly placed landline, when he noticed the device showing a full signal. What the fuck? Had Timmerman miraculously installed a cell phone tower near the farm for Seth? Maybe his phone had latched onto his computer modem. Seth wasn’t the type to worry about how things worked; he simply grinned when he noticed those five beautiful bars.
Although he’d received mounds of official lawyer-speak letters the day after he’d gotten the phone call about his aunt’s passing (requiring a good bit of web surfing to decipher), and understood the basics of his inheritance, some details needed clarifying. Also, a personal letter from the lawyer requested a face to face meeting, “as time permits.” The last thing he needed was someone else who’d known the McDaniels forever pointing out how Seth didn’t deserve Irene for a relative, but he’d put off the inevitable long enough.
His first phone call was to his aunt’s attorney, his second to her stockbroker. His third was to the president of the First National Bank of Possum Kingdom. He sat down hard on the old settee, trying to grasp all he’d been told. Even if only a fraction of what they’d said held true, he was now one wealthy son of a gun, and he needed to pay a visit to the lawyer.
