Page 4 of Shielding Serena

While Higgins was an unknown and had appeared non-threatening to Walker’s eye, everyone in town knew about Marlon Jones. He’d coasted on his looks and prowess on the baseball field for his high school years, but his charm and physical talent had only taken him so far. When he moved to Phoenix for college, he’d made some questionable friends and been popped for fleecing vulnerable older women who’d fallen for a handsome face and ripped body. He’d done his time and then come home. Last Walker had heard, he was working at the feed store throwing sacks of grain and flexing for silly high school girls who bought his song and dance about being framed.

Walker shifted the subject, because he was pretty sure Serena was going to throw something at both of them if they kept up their line of questioning. And as much as he wanted to ease tensions between him and Garrett, he couldn’t help but poke the tiniest bit. “What are the UFO people up to?” he tried to make his tone innocent but failed miserably. Vortexes and woo-woo stuff was part of what made this area so interesting and more than a bit crazy.

Now it was Garrett’s turn to roll his eyes. “Same old, same old,” he said. “It’s all a government conspiracy; we’re hiding aliens and maybe Bigfoot. Oh, and the locations for interdimensional travel.” He leveled his gaze on Walker. “I’m surprised they haven’t tried to corner you. With the notoriety you got last fall and your proximity to Bradshaw Ranch, I think they would have contacted you.”

Walker shook his head. “I sweet-talked the tourist Jeep tours into downplaying what happened, if anyone asked. And you know Taylor kept the shootout as quiet as he could, at least on the national front. He diverted most of the attention to Vegas, not here. He’d be the one they’d contact, not me.”

That made Garrett a laugh outright. “I’d like to see them try to get around McCullough,” he said.

Walker knew Garrett and Taylor had hit it off when the men from Last Light had been building the ranch, since Taylor had more time to spend there than the rest of them because he wasn’t active duty. His role in the battle had also weighed a little bit more heavily on him than the rest of them. They were warriors, each of them used to doing their duty, even Walker and Quentin, whose inexperience had been epic.

Taylor was… different. When he picked up a weapon in that last stand, he'd given up his impartiality as a reporter. It had taken him a while to work through that.

Garrett grabbed his to-go cup and settled his hat back on his head. “Serena, you let me know if you have any more trouble,” he said and dipped a nod in Walker’s direction. “Landry.”

Walker returned the nod, repeating the ritual they’d gone through when Garrett entered. “Sheriff.”

As Garrett left, old-timer Otis Nixon and two of his cronies walked in, looking around the space with a critical gaze, and Walker knew his time with Serena for the morning was truly done.

CHAPTER 3

“You’ve done good here, kid,” the wizened old man said as he and Serena walked out of The Menagerie hours later. “I had my doubts, but you’ve done good,” he repeated. “I suspect my Addie will want to bring the book club here some mornings.”

Serena smiled in response, enjoying the pulse of the late spring sun on her face. Addie was Otis’ great granddaughter and had been Serena’s rival during the summers she spent in Cottonwood. They’d been what you could best describe as frenemies. She was pretty sure Addie wouldn’t be darkening her door, or handing over hard-earned coin, unless it was at gunpoint.

“That means a lot coming from you, Otis. Thanks for stopping by and for your honest opinion. Tell Addie they’re welcome, and if she can let me know in advance, I’ll reserve the west parlor, no charge.”

He pulled on his old-school Diamondbacks baseball cap. “She’ll like that,” he said solemnly, then shuffled down the sidewalk to where his ancient orange pickup was parked. Guys like Otis, who were about eight hundred years old, didn’t like to get boxed into places like parking lots. Especially not without power steering. Serena wondered how he managed to even stop the hunk of rolling steel, since she was pretty sure it didn’t have power brakes either.

She stepped back into the foyer, turned the open sign to closed and locked the front door with a sigh of relief.

It had been a hell of a day, capped off by Otis’ visit. After she’d situated the feed store gossip crew, as she called them in her head, with coffees, her insurance rep had shown up unannounced, saying the company was considering canceling her coverage because of ‘fire code concerns in a building this old.’

She’d understood his worries when he viewed the front-of-house. The century-old Victorian with the eclectic decorations and even funkier vibe certainly wasn’t the norm for an eatery.

While her assistant Gena handled the register, she’d walked him through to the repurposed kitchen that was the exact opposite of what the customers saw, with its top-of-the-line gleaming stainless appliances and an electrical panel that had been installed by a very expensive electrician.

When she’d taken over The Menagerie she’d decided to go big, in case the business plan changed. So even though they served a limited menu now, they had room to expand. Significantly.

The adjuster had finally left after enjoying a gratis cup of coffee and pastry, waving off the company’s initial concerns as resolved. She was pretty sure he’d become a regular.

Then Mrs. Fullbrook had appeared and given her daily, pointed critique of the pastries being stale, even though they’d been made that morning by Gena and the woman very well knew it. She was cranky because Serena wasn’t using her niece for the baked goods. Alice Fullbrook was many, many things, but a good baker she was not. By now Gena was used to it and pointedly ignored the woman when she came in, which infuriated Mrs. Fullbrook even more.

Otis and his crew had settled in for the rest of the morning, chatting amongst themselves and watching everything with eagle eyes.

It was business as usual and Serena loved every single second of it, even when it frustrated the hell out of her.

Repurposing The Menagerie had been a gamble. As a curiosities, a.k.a. junk, shop, it had been an institution for decades and locals didn't take well to change in this old neighborhood.

Down the road in Cottonwood where all the tourists went? Sure, that kind of thing was just fine and brought revenue into the town's coffers. But the village of Rimrock Creek was different. Doing anything to change the four square blocks of businesses that catered to locals trying to escape the fray that surrounded Sedona Red Rocks country wasn't well received at all.

The only reason she'd gotten away with it was because she'd been a known quantity, having spent her teenage summers with her aunt working the shop and running wild in the hills beyond town. Thwarting Addie at every turn. Even the thought of it brought a smile of remembrance. Addie had given as good as she’d gotten, so Serena considered it a draw.

When she’d returned to Rimrock Creek six months ago, this time as a full-time resident, she’d used her skills in public relations to lobby the women at the little library four doors down and the old men like Otis who held court in the feed store a block over.

The fact the village didn’t really have a gathering spot beyond the feed store had worked in her favor. The out-of-towners who’d tried to open a diner a few years ago had learned the hard way how insular the village could be, and the storefront was still sitting vacant.

It had taken time and a lot of talking, free coffee and free baked goods, but she finally felt she’d turned a corner. Winning over the Addies of the world would be the cherry on top.