Several hands shot up. I pointed to a man named Sherman Milner.
“Sherman?” I asked.
The man, around thirty with a clean-shaven face and cropped blond hair, stood.
“Leviathan, I been having some trouble with Michael and Andrea’s dogs getting at my chickens. Had two killed in the last month.”
Michael Branson stood, pointing a finger at Sherman. “Sherm, now, damn it, I told you, Bones and Ruffus didn’t kill your damn chickens.”
Michael and Andrea had been brought here separately ten years before, and had met, fallen in love, then mated not long after. Each member of the pack was allowed to have their own small garden and a tiny paddock for animals if they liked, to go along with the community gardens and animal yards. It gave many of them something to do and helped ensure there was plenty of food to go around as well as a surplus to sell.
“Hang on,” I said, raising a hand to calm them down before anymore shouting happened. “Sherman, how do you know Micheal and Andrea’s dogs killed your chicken?”
Sherman turned away from Michael to look at me. “Found ’em both torn up the same night I heard their two dogs barking. Sounded close, but I didn’t go check since it was dark out and?—”
“So, you never saw my dogs at your place,” Michael interrupted. He shut up when I sent a warning glare in his direction.
“Mike,” I said, still staring at Michael. “Are your dogs tied up at night?”
Michael blinked in surprise. “Uh, well, no. They like to roam. I let them.”
“Right. You have no idea whether or not they’ve been heading over to Sherman’s place, do you?”
Michael twisted his baseball cap between his hands. Andrea patted his leg reassuringly. “No, sir. I don’t know forsure, but my dogs are good boys.”
“I have no doubt,” I said, then turned back to Sherman. “Sherm, with no eyewitnesses, I can’t cast blame on Michael and his dogs.”
“But—”
“Though,” I said, cutting him off, “of everyone here in Hidden Grove, only Michael and Andrea have dogs. There is a chance a fox or a stray dog from one of the nearby packs could have attacked your chickens. We can’t say for certain.” I turned my gaze back to Michael and Andrea. “But you two have left yourself open for accusation by not properly containing your animals at night. Correct?”
The couple nodded, looking chastised.
“Here’s what I’ll do. We will compromise. Michael, you will ensure Bones and Ruffus are tied up or brought inside each night. Then, if there are any further chicken murders”—the crowd tittered with laughter, and even Sherman gave a half-hearted chuckle—“we’ll know for certain it wasn’t your dogs. I won’t force you to replace Sherman’s chickens, but as penance for lack of animal control, I want you to give him a dozen eggs a week for the next two weeks. How does that sound to each of you?”
Sherman looked like he wanted to argue, but then he shrugged. “Sounds fair enough.”
“Will do, Levi,” Michael said as he sat down.
“That was well done,” June whispered in my ear.
I gave her a small smile. “Thanks.” Her praise sent a happy thrill through me. I turned to the crowd again. “Anyone else?”
Clare Thompson from Eugenia’s group, and Jennifer Black both raised their hands and approached my table.
“I’m guessing this dispute has to do with both of you?” I asked, eyeing them.
They gave each other a less-than-friendly look before responding two ladies gave each other a less-than-friendly look before responding.
“Levi,” Clare said. “Jennifer’s son Shawn has been picking on my daughter. I’ve told her about it, but she won’t stop him.”
“That’s not what’s happening,” Jennifer said. “Theyarehaving some disagreements, but I wouldn’t call it bullying or anything.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say anything June spoke up.
“How often are the kids around each other?” she asked.
Both Clare and Jennifer turned to her, as surprised as I was to hear her address them.
