Page 94 of Axe-identally Married
“I’m super busy,” I explained instead, holding up my left hand. “Newlywed.”
That didn’t deter him. “Oh, right.” Without an invitation, he pulled up a chair and sat opposite me. “How is my ex-girlfriend treating you?”
An alarm sounded in my brain as anger roiled in my stomach.
“Sorry,” I said, clearing my throat. “You must be mistaken. I’m married to Dr. Willa Savard.”
“Oh, I know.” His cocky smile made me want to punch his teeth out. “I know herreallywell.” By the way he emphasized the wordreally, he was clearly implying that they’d slept together.
That wasn’t possible. It didn’t make sense. Not at all. Willa and this bozo? No way.
“I was surprised to hear she’d married you,” he continued, dunking his tea bag aggressively into his mug. “Seems off-brand for her, but then I heard it was a drunk Vegas thing, and let’s face it, that’s definitely your brand.” He raised one eyebrow.
My eye twitched much more violently than when we had run into Jonathan. This wasn’t just disgust. It was revulsion.
I stood abruptly, almost knocking my chair over as I did. “I need to go.” If I didn’t get away from this asshole, I might knock his teeth out. He was messing with me, and implying that he’d fucked my wife was a great way to do it.
Breathe, man. He was baiting me and insulting me and my wife, and I didn’t have to take it. I wasn’t a violent guy. I was aggressive on the ice, but never off it. And my self-confidence had taken a nosedive today.
I made a beeline for the door, bumping my hip against a table in my haste.Shit, that hurt. My brain spun. I needed to get back to city hall. I wasn’t leaving until I found those files. But how many pieces of paper could I comb through on my own? There had to be a better way.
As I strode down Main Street, breathing in the brisk air, an idea struck. So I turned my ass around.
The administrative staff loved cookies.The Caffeinated Moose had several specialties, including molasses, blueberry cardamom, and maple cream. I bought several dozen—without bumping into Dennis again—and took them back to city hall. This impromptu cookie break was the perfect opportunity to chat about the festival and possible sponsors. Everyone hadsuggestions, and my notepad was filling up fast, but so far, I hadn’t gotten a single lead on Deimos.
Dennis Huxley was still in my head, so I took a chance.
Marcus had been busy showing me photos of his kids, so I figured he’d have my back. “Do you know Dennis Huxley?”
He snorted, and the way his face puckered said it all. He sure did.
“I ran into him at the coffee shop. Man, that guy is such a jerk. Do you know why he’s back in town? What does he even do for work?”
Marcus shrugged. “Beats me. He came back when his father moved back last year. Has a house up on Maplewood Lane, but last month, when he came in to scream at me about his parking tickets, I pulled the deed. Turns out his daddy bought that giant house for him.”
Interesting.
“His dad bought him a house? Wild.”
“It was through one of his companies. Charles and Dennis have registered like half a dozen corporations in Maine. He does everything that way. Helps avoid the tax man.” He raised one eyebrow, telling me what he really thought of these entitled jackasses.
The wheels in my head creaked, then started turning.
“Interesting. What do the companies do?”
“Own real estate mostly. A few properties up here and down downeast. It’s hard to find them. The way they set them up is shifty, for sure. The mayor made me do a deep dive a couple of years ago. Charles donated to his campaign through one of his companies. But for our federal election filings, I had to chase down the details. Took me forever. That guy is slippery.”
My stomach flipped. Charles Huxley, beloved politician who acted like he was God’s gift to Lovewell, had convoluted business entities? Fuck yes.
“This is gonna sound weird, but I’m working on reaching out to businesses to sponsor the festival. Would you mind sharing the info you found about him? I know he’s got deep pockets. Maybe he could help out.”
“Sure thing. They all have weird names. Greek, I think.” He scratched his head.
Fuck me. Greek names? Like Deimos? Could this actually be possible?
“I’ll dig out the file on my laptop later and send it to you.”
I gave him a nod. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
