“Un-fucking-real,” she said, echoing me as best she was capable.
Now I was worked up. I wanted to be worked up. I didn’t want anyone to ever be able to say I’d let Ladell Pratt get away with anything. Least of all Oaklyn. Suddenly it was very important that I man up in front of her, that she not see me losing face and a whole lot more.
I started walking to my scoot. “I’m going down to fucking City Hall right now and put a stop to this.”
“Is that smart?” called Oaklyn. “I mean, the mood you’re in and all. I’d hate to see you get arrested for assault with your reputation on the line like this.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” It was true. I’d been harassed in Bountiful in front of a Papa Murphy’s Take ‘n’ Bake. A former client’s wife must’ve recognized me and started shrieking at the top of her lungs. He felt the need to sucker-punch me to prove her wrong, so we wound up rolling on top of this raw pizza dough pounding each other’s lights out. The client had gotten the worst of it, so of course the wife called 911 to report me. And boy did she know exactly where I lived and who I was.
Oaklyn scurried after me. “Let me come. I’d feel a lot better if you had my calming influence on you. And my nurse’s opinion about the dog.”
“No. Stay here with Lazarus.”
Her face fell. “But you’ve got a gun.”
“I’ve always got a gun. I’d be stupid not to.” Actually, I only “always had a gun” since moving to Avalanche and watching my back. Only, I obviously wasn’t doing a very good job if I hadn’t noticed the motherfucker give my dog poison.
“Are you looking for the building inspector or Ladell Pratt?”
“Whoever’s stupid enough to get in my way first.” I took off then, because it looked like she was going to chase me. As much as I’d love to be chased by Oaklyn Warrior, now wasn’t the time for those sorts of games.
I’d only been in City Hall once, when dropping off my business permit application. Since we were doing a very minimal remodel I wasn’t even expecting the building inspector. I doubted Hyrum Shumway would be idiotic enough to be sitting behind his desk, and I was right. I nearly ripped his assistant a new one when all she’d tell me was he was “out in the field.”
I planted my feet squarely and pointed right at her. “Get ahold of him right now and tell him Levon Rockwell has an urgent issue with him. He’ll know what the fuck it’s all about.”
She was leaving him a voicemail and I was plotting something to angrily bellow in the background when I noticed someone standing close to me. Too close for comfort.
“Well, well,” said Ladell Pratt, Mayor. “Thought you’d look me up when you got my business card?”
Before I even turned to face him, a fine tremor started in my arms. I knew that sign—it was the urge to thrash, to maim, to destroy. Eyes narrowing, I clenched my hands to remind myself it would behoove no one to lash out at him, especially in public. I’d be arrested in a hot minute. “Well, well,” I seethed back, equally as smarmy. “If it isn’t the world’s most perverted mayor.”
His moon face remained placid. He must’ve been used to these sorts of accusations. His little bowtie jiggled under one of his many chins. “You would know, wouldn’t you? As proprietor of Liberty Temple and all, I mean. And now you’re reminding me how I’ve forgotten to bring up your former employment to my town council.”
“Bring it up all you want. I’ve got nothing to hide. I object when you start threatening my worker Deloy, who’s just trying to make an honest living.”
“Oh, suddenly you’ve become so upright and honest? Why don’t we continue this in my office, shall we?”
That didn’t bode well, and I wanted the assistant to be a witness, so I said, “My issue today is with Hyrum Shumway who has knowingly and purposefully poisoned my dog.”
The assistant gasped. Good. She’d heard me.
“My, my,” trilled Pratt in a trivial tone, like he was auditioning for some gay Broadway musical. “That is a serious accusation. I presume you have evidence to back this up? Let’s take this to my office.”
In the hallway, I said, “You don’t ride your babyish little hoverboard down the halls? Listen, I’ve got a witness who saw him feed my dog breath mints that contain xylitol which is pure poison for dogs. The doctor and my roommate who happens to be a registered nurse both confirmed it was classic xylitol poisoning. I want that fucker arrested for cruelty to animals.”
Pratt gestured for me to enter his office first. It was then I saw the hip holster with some kind of automatic pistol. He’d definitely not been packing when he accosted me in my studio the other day. Suddenly he, too, felt the need for protection.