Pixie Magic Ch. 12

"Oh, Gail," Fern said, holding her hand, "I'm so sorry."

"Th-thank you," she said, sniffling, "But it wasn't just me, they raped Theresa Pinkney, too. She had just stopped by for some gas at the time."

"Where is Theresa?" I asked, "Is she alright?"

"I don't know," Gail, said, still sniffling, "Probably home with Pete, her husband."

"Where's Hollis?" I asked. Hollis was the owner of the restaurant/convenience store/gas station. He was also the guy that picked up my car and towed it here.

"If you're wondering about your car," Gail said, "It won't do any good to talk with him. Knox threatened to shut him down if he didn't keep your car here overnight. That's why you're here, right?"

"No, actually, we came here to get something to eat," I said, "My place was ransacked over the weekend, and my food was either eaten or destroyed. I wanted to find Hollis to see if he wanted to press charges against Randy on your behalf."

"Let me fix you two something," Gail said, getting up, "Hollis has gone home. He's afraid and doesn't want anything to do with the mayor or his son."

"No Gail," Fern said, "Don't bother, not after what you've been through."

"I insist!" Gail said, finding her voice, "We need to ban together if we're going to do something about them."

She lowered her voice on that last word.

"Okay, you're on," I said, confidently, "What do you have?"

Gail just turned and gave me a funny look.

"Right," I said, "two grilled cheese sandwiches, please."

My phone rang while Gail was making the sandwiches.

"Doctor Monroe? This is Malcom Lawson," said the male voice on the other end of the line.

"Oh, Mr. Lawson, please call me Skyler," I said, "I'm so happy to hear from you."

"Okay, Skyler," he said, "First of all, are you safe?"

"We appear to be for now," I said, "But the situation here is messy and generally unstable. The mayor has impounded my car overnight to stop me from leaving."

"Can you document that for me?" the lawyer asked, "I'll send a car and driver down to you to pick you up."

"Thank you," I said, "I was told my car would be returned in the morning, but I don't trust him. How soon do you think someone could get here?"

"I'm not sure," Larson said, "Greenwood is pretty remote. It might take a couple of hours."

"We're at the town diner now," I said, "But we'll wait upstairs in my apartment. Have whoever picks us up honk the horn in the parking lot and we'll come down."

"Will do. I've already informed Judge Turner what's happened," Lawson said, "and I'm waiting to hear back from the Governor. Phil wouldn't pull a stupid stunt like that and leave you without reliable police protection; it must have been some underling from his office. Someone's going to get fired tonight, not that it will help you right now."

"Also, that surveillance tape you gave to the state trooper as evidence for rape suddenly went missing," Lawson continued, "That's evidence tampering. The troopers are looking into that. Fortunately, I have a copy of that surveillance footage that your brother sent me."

"I appreciate your help, Mr. Lawson," I said.

"Call me Malcom," he said, "Your brother and I went to Harvard Law School together and he thinks a lot of you. He tells me you were the youngest graduate of your veterinarian medical school."

"Thank you," I replied, "Yeah, I got a lot of kidding about that when I was there."

"Try to stay safe in the meantime," he said, "We'll get you out of there and into someplace safer. Call me back after you're picked up."

"Thank you," I said.

"Good luck," he said as he hung up.

"Here are your sandwiches," Gail said, putting the plates on the table, "I even gave you each a pickle."

"Thanks Gail," I said sadly, "Now if only we could find our way out of this bigger pickle."

*******

Next Chapter: The stag hunt and mysteries unraveled.