hands. And I like foraging for junk too, then turning it into something I can use.”
“Well, well, well. Maybe that’s your job, Flanner DelRay. That’s it. You could easily recycle material and make garden sheds for people. I’d buy one. You must have access to a table saw and other tools for cutting lumber.”
“Any time I need to cut lumber, Duff Northcutt lets me use his tool shed. Some of the tools are outdated, but they work just fine. And he has everything I need to get the job done.”
“Then would you be willing to design and build a shed for me with a sink like the one you have?”
“If you really need one, I could do it.”
“I do. Who doesn’t need extra storage? And I know several more people who would want one, too.”
Flanner’s eyes grew big at the thought. “But I’d have to go into town.”
“No. You wouldn’t. That’s the beauty of it. You could work from here or at Duff’s place. Your choice. Moving the shed into town after it’s built is the easy part. Although you might have to work on-site to add shelves to the inside.”
“I suppose I could manage that.”
“Sure, you could. We’ll figure out the logistics later. I know someone with a truck who could deliver it. His name’s Gafford. Billy Gafford. He lives near Duff. This could work.”
“Why’s it so important to you?”
“My grandmother loved gardening and growing things. I’ve tried to keep her garden alive, but sometimes it’s hard. I could use a shed adjacent to the greenhouse to start my seedlings. Why don’t you grow your vegetables out here, Flanner?”
“Don’t have much of a green thumb. The soil’s not fit for growing a carrot or lettuce.”
“Hmm. What if we made a trade? All the vegetables from my garden you can eat for you building me a shed?”
Flanner grinned. “That could work.”
Even in the middle of a homicide investigation, Saturday nights were made for relaxing. It was possible to spend downtime thinking about something else, even enjoying an hour or two of music, drink a few beers, let down their hair.
The cover band Fortitude regularly headlined at the Duck & Rum every Saturday night, appearing on stage around nine o’clock, give or take a few minutes. Nobody made much of a fuss if they were a little late.
The town had come to expect seeing their local police force rock out to a playlist of familiar tunes. Lando, Dale, and Jimmy had been playing together since high school. When the men met up with a music teacher named Radley Fisk on drums, it seemed their group had found its forever drummer. And when they added Bosco Reynolds, a bartender, who played bass guitar, the band’s sound finally began to click. But it wasn’t until Gemma came back to town when they considered adding a female lead singer into the mix that everything fell into place. With her strong contralto, Gemma’s voice opened up greater possibilities. Their selection of songs expanded and brought in a bigger crowd. People came from fifty miles away to listen to soft rock, hard rock, and anything in between.
Tonight was no exception. The dive bar, located at the south end of Water Street on the cusp of town, drew an eclectic group of people. Millennials, Gen Xers, and even a few Boomers jammed in around the stage.
“Looks like we have an enthusiastic bunch tonight,” Lando said as he surveyed the crowd from his spot backstage.
But tonight, Gemma’s mind wasn’t on lyrics. It was, in fact, still with Flanner and to some degree with Lucy. She couldn’t help but think about the missed opportunities. At this very moment, Lucy sat alone at her house watching week-old TV shows while Flanner sat at his place, his nose buried in a book.
Gemma yearned to play matchmaker and somehow get the two to reconnect on a more permanent basis. She had to admit that the conversation she’d rehearsed with each of them hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Both talks had yielded more than a few surprises.
She’d attempted to hijack the guy and lure him back to town using the Cactus Flower Drive-in as bait. Even though she hadn’t figured out the specifics, it hadn’t worked out that way at all. His carpentry handiwork had changed the tide. She had to give him chops for taking a plot of land, clearing it himself and then building a place to live that suited him just fine.