Page 14 of The Good Luck Cafe
“And I don’t see that Darla has much of a leg to stand on if she wanted to fight the council’s decision. The town owns her building. The lease is coming up and it’s their right not to renew. They can legally evict Darla without any repercussion.”
“Even if she’s been the model tenant?” Gil asked.
“Even if. The one who holds the deed gets to call the shots. In this case, that’s the town.”
“I see.” Gil didn’t want to fight Darla, but his job was to look out for the town’s best interests. He’d needed to make sure evicting Darla was completely legal, although, admittedly, some part of him had hoped Darla would have a leg to stand on if she wanted to fight the decision.
“I hope Darla can find a new location,” Jake said. “Maybe call Della and see if she knows of a commercial real estate spot for her.”
Della Rose was the best real estate agent in town. If there were another central location that was available though, then the new parking lot would have gone there. There was nothing. This was a small town with limited space. The only other commercial real estate available was on the outer reaches of Somerset Lake. Folks would have to go out of their way to grab coffee and breakfast from Darla. That meant they’d likely just go to the diner around the corner, even though the coffee wasn’t nearly as good, in Gil’s opinion.
“Keep this between us for now, okay?” Gil asked.
“Of course.”
“Great. See you at the tavern on Thursday.”
The guys got together every Thursday night without fail. They met at the tavern for wings and drinks while most of the guys’ female counterparts met for book club. Gil wondered what really went on at the book club in Tess’s bookstore. He somehow doubted those meetings were solely for members to talk about the books they read.
“I’ll be there,” Jake said.
They disconnected the call, and Gil drove the rest of the way to the sheriff’s department in silence, which only allowed his thoughts to be amplified. The big, pressing question right now was whether Darla had told Moira the news about the bakery yet. If she had, Moira was somewhere hating him, which he regretted. He’d accepted that she’d never return his interest, but he still wished they could be friendly toward one another. He admired Moira—that was a huge part of his attraction to her. She had never been a person to stay quiet when there was an injustice. Like the time their eleventh-grade Language Arts teacher was let go after another student told blatant lies about her. Moira had marched down to Principal Russo’s office in support of their teacher, leading a dozen or so other students. Or the time Moira had gathered with the community to save that oak tree near the lake. Moira was a force to be reckoned with, and he didn’t want to be the one reckoning with her.
After a few minutes of driving, Gil turned in to the lot of the sheriff’s department and parked out front. The air felt cool against his skin as he walked toward the one-story brick building. The department’s administrative assistant looked up from the front counter as he stepped inside.
“Hey, Mayor Gil,” Bonnie Weston said. “Are you here to see Sheriff Ronnie?”
“I am,” Gil confirmed, looking around. He could hear a few deputies laughing in one of the offices down the hall.
Bonnie pointed down the hall opposite the one with the laughter. “His door is open. Good luck,” she said, brows raised.
Gil narrowed his eyes on the woman who was about his mother’s age. “Luck? Why would I need luck?”
Bonnie looked at him over her blue-rimmed glasses. “You don’t know why you’re here?”
Gil placed his hands on his hips, processing her question. “I guess I don’t.”
“Well, it’s not my place to tell you.” She pointed down the hall. “Go on. He gets a bit grumpy when someone makes him wait too long.”
Gil had a sudden flutter of nerves in his belly. He and Ronnie were friends. There was no need to be nervous. Gil glanced down the hall and started walking, wondering just what he was walking into.
“Gilbert!” Ronnie said when Gil stood in front of his open door.
“Not you too.” Gil gauged the sheriff’s relaxed demeanor.See? Nothing to worry about.
“Come on in. Close the door, if you don’t mind,” the sheriff said.
Gil was back on alert. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Should I also sit down?”
Ronnie’s smile fell into a straight line. “That would probably be best.”
Chapter Five
Gil took a seat across from Ronnie at his desk. “Let’s have it. What’s going on?”
The sheriff was laid-back and relaxed as much as he was serious and hard-edged, depending on the situation. Right now, it was the latter. “I was older than you in school,” he started by saying.
Gil nodded. “By about three years, right?”
