Someone Like You by Susan Mallery Read Free Book Online Page A

“You’re kidding.”
    â€œNope. I’m not saying it’s not a nice fence and all. It works, but it’s in the wrong place.”
    A stone fence? She’d been picturing chain link or cedar. “Why didn’t you stop them when they started to put up the fence? A project like that would have taken weeks.”
    â€œI wasn’t around. Besides, it’s not my responsibility to patrol my own borders. This isn’t Iraq.”
    â€œFair enough.” But a stone fence. That had to cost a fortune. “Have you talked to your neighbors about this?”
    His mouth tightened. “They’re young and they listen to rock music. Cotton wool for brains. No point in talking to them. They probably take drugs.”
    She sent up a quiet prayer of thanks that Mr. Harrison didn’t live next door to her. “When was the fence built?”
    â€œNear as I can tell, 1898.”
    The pen slid from her fingers and landed on the hard wood floor. Her mind simply wouldn’t wrap itself around the information.
    â€œThat’s over a hundred years ago.”
    His gaze narrowed. “I can do math, little lady. Why does it matter when it was built? It’s stealing, plain and simple. I want that fence moved.”
    Jill might not know a lot about real estate law, but some truths were universal—one of them being that a fence in place for a hundred years was unlikely to be moved anytime soon.
    â€œWhy are you dealing with this now?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t want to leave a big mess after I’m gone. And don’t bother telling me no one will care. Dixon already tried that argument.” He glared at the nearest fish.
    Jill felt the first stirrings of a headache. “Let me do some research, Mr. Harrison. There might be a legal precedent for what you want to do.” Although she had her doubts. “I’ll get back to you next week.”
    â€œI appreciate that.”
    Mr. Harrison rose and shook her hand, then headed for the reception area. As he didn’t close the door be hind him, she heard him clearly when he spoke to Tina.
    â€œWhat were you going on about?” Mr. Harrison asked the receptionist. “She doesn’t seem like she has a stick up her ass to me.”
    Â 
    M AC CROSSED THE STREET from the courthouse to the sheriff’s office and pushed through the double glass doors. He nodded at the deputy on duty and did his best not to make eye contact as he walked toward his office in the back corner, but Wilma caught up with him in less than two seconds.
    â€œYou have messages,” the gray-haired dispatcher said as she thrust several pink pieces of paper into his hands. “You can ignore the ones on the bottom, but the top three are important. How’d it go in court?”
    â€œGood.”
    He’d managed to keep one bad guy behind bars fora couple of years. That had to count. He glanced down at the notes as he kept walking.
    â€œThe mayor called?” he asked, knowing that couldn’t be good.
    â€œUh-huh.”
    Wilma had to take two steps for every one of his. She barely came past his elbow and, according to legend, had been around since before the earth’s crust cooled. She was a tough old bird and one of the first of his staff he’d known was a keeper.
    â€œMayor’s calling on behalf of the pier centennial committee. They want a temporary alcohol permit to serve beer at the car wash.”
    Mac stopped in the middle of the room and glared at her. “What? Serve beer? High-school kids are going to be doing the work.”
    â€œThe mayor said the beer was for the patrons.”
    He felt his blood pressure climbing. “He wants to serve beer to people who are going to get back in their cars and drive around town? Of all the stupid, ill-conceived, ridiculous, backward—”
    â€œI said you wouldn’t like it,” Wilma told him. “But he didn’t listen.”
    Mac had