The only light outside the motel was a single 60 watt bulb over the door of late Uncle Fred's room.
Matty walked out of the darkness and stood about six feet in front of the four men.
"Hi baby."
Bill blew her a kiss.
"Hi, my love."
Matty looked at the other three and dropped what she was carrying in her arms. It fell to the asphalt with a clang.
"What's that?" the Boss barked.
Matty looked down at the ground and then at the Boss.
"That is a 100 pound anchor."
"That's pretty impressive," Snake commented.
"Such a petite girl could carry that."
"Who are you?" the Boss growled.
"I am Matty Dove."
"You this guys lawyer? The one that can e-transfer?"
Matty stared at me.
"I am?"
Bill nodded.
"Yes you are."
"Oh okay. Then yes I am."
She put her hands on her hips.
"I am the lawyer that can e-transfer."
"Good."
The Boss held up the pistol so Matty could see it.
"We have guns."
Tiny and Snake held up their pistols as well.
Matty put her hands to her face.
"You have guns?"
"Yea and were not afraid to use them."
"That's true, hun," Bill informed Matty.
"They plugged Fred."
"We thought we heard plugging," Matty shrieked.
"That right," the Boss barked.
"We plugged Freddy and ..."
He suddenly stopped.
"What do you mean, we?"
"Oh, well, we means more than one."
Matty leaned forward.
"See you have guns and Weeeeeeeeee," she lifted her arms.
The headlights of two pickup trucks shone across the parking lot, from opposite sides.
Behind Matty were at least twenty men and a couple women from the village. Every one of them were holding rifles or shotguns.
YOU ARE READING
Tuckamore Bay
General FictionMatty Dove had 18 months to try and find a buyer for her late grandmother's lighthouse. A buyer who, she hoped, would not only buy the lighthouse, but love the village so much that they would invest time and money into saving the community. In 18 mo...
