Page 13 of Rogue Wave

I reached into my purse, quickly grabbed my keys, and then raced out the front door and over to the side of the street where I’d parked.

“Wait! Excuse me! That’s my car!” I yelled, sprinting the half block over to my car.

Finally, the tow truck driver looked up at me.

“Why are you towing my car?” I asked, noting there wasn’t a sign that said no parking until you got closer to the intersection.

“Police officer called it in, said you’re blocking a fire hydrant,” the man said casually, as though he enjoyed this part of his job.

An officer called this in? If I were a betting woman, I would put all my money on a grumpy sheriff who happened to be my neighbor as the one who likely called this in.

“Here’s the ticket.” He shoved a piece of paper into my hand, which informed me of my seventy-five-dollar fine for impeding firefighters from accessing the fire hydrant. A fire hydrant, I would like to point out, that was easily five feet behind my car…and beside the car behind me.

“Sir, that car is blocking more of it than mine is,” I argued with him—not that he could fix the ticket, but maybe he would stop towing my car at least.

“Which is why I was told to tow both of you,” he replied casually. “Yours was easier to get to first.”

I sighed loudly. “Please, I’m here now. Can I just move it really quickly and we not tow it?”

I had no shame in begging this man.

“No can do, miss. Once the hook is on, I have to tow it.” He was polite, but his voice brooked no argument.

“Can I have the ticket? I actually know the cop who put it on my car, so I’m going to see if he will let it go.” I knew Hank wouldn’t do that, but this guy didn’t know that.

“Sure, but I still have to tow,” he started to say, but I held my hand up.

“I know. I just want the ticket so maybe I won’t have to pay for both the ticket and the towing,” I explained.

I probably would, but I was going to give Hank a fight for it.

I had no idea why this man hated me so much, but I needed to get to the bottom of this if we ever had a chance of being friendly neighbors at all.

He handed me the ticket and gave me instructions on where to pick up my car. My feet pounded the street—perhaps a bit excessively—back to the restaurant as I measured the consequences of toilet papering Hank’s house. Murdering a sheriff definitely wasn’t gonna work. Not only was that morally wrong, but I needed to avoid jail if possible. I was too friendly, and I doubt they had a library filled with sexy romance books or animal science books in jail—I wouldn’t last a week. Toilet papering was easier, less likely to put me in jail, but still effective.

I made a beeline for the table and noticed Vivi’s concerned face as I sat back down. She said nothing, likely weighing what the right thing was to say since she could probably see the steam coming out of my ears.

“Hank gave me another ticket for parking too close to the fire hydrant and then called to have my car towed. Because the guy already had the hook on my car, he apparently can’t take it off, so I’ll have you drive us both back to my place tonight, and I’ll go get my car in the morning before work.”

“That’s fine,” she replied softly. “I can drive you to get it before my shift if they’re open early.”

Vivi worked more of a “normal people” shift of nine to five, whereas most days I worked slightly later hours of noon to eight.

“You okay?” she asked cautiously.

I sighed. “Yeah. I just wish I knew why Hank had a hard-on for pissing me off and giving me tickets for literally everything.”

“You want another margarita? I’m driving both of us now, so you can if you want.”

I wasn’t a big drinker, but the stress relief that second drink would give me was sounding mighty nice right about now.

I ordered another, we finished our meal, and then we made our way back to my place. On the drive over, I googled the tow company to find out where and when we could pick up my car. Unfortunately, they didn’t open until nine, so I would have to take an Uber. I debated the merits of making Hank drive me as punishment for giving me another ticket but realized I was way more likely to strangle him if we were in close proximity, so best to just get it myself.

The fifteen-minute drive back to my place was not enough time to calm my murdery thoughts. This was obviously why I was raring to go when Vivi pulled into my driveway and I saw Hank sitting on Dougie’s porch with him.

It was also why I decided to storm my way over there and give him a piece of my mind—well, that and the margaritas.

My courage was definitely in its liquid form, and it was still strong and hurried my steps.