Thursday morning Beverly Davis sat at her kitchen table enjoying a cup of her favorite coffee, she’d had another sleepless night. The loss of her husband eight years ago and the ongoing battle with his stepson, Jeremy, was adding pounds and wrinkles to the middle-aged woman. Her Day-Timer was open before her, nothing too pressing, needed to talk with Blanche Delaney about a couple of condos that just went on the market in the new area south of the base, also needed to check the status of the estate sale. She was anxious to get her hands on the money after so many years of legal battles but she was certain the war was not over. The coffee was just what she needed to get going this morning. Taking another drink she let it swirl around in her mouth before swallowing it down.
“Wish I had a donut to dunk in this,” she thought.
Her cell phone rang and ‘Dixie’ played, she flipped it open, “Good mornin’, this is Bev,” in her sweetest, what the hell do you want already this morning, accent.
“Morning Beverly, this is Earl Tidball, I’m calling on behalf of the Okala Development Group.”
Her ears perked up. This was the group that had been in negotiations in regards to a large tract of land, that she had the realty rights to, a few miles from Moody Air Force Base. She was sure it was a done deal and was waiting for the finalization of some paperwork, title searches and such.
“Yes, Mr. Tidball, I’m well aware of who you are. How are you this morning? I was hoping we might wind things up this week and get that property transferred to your group.” She always tried to put a positive spin on every deal, even if it wasn’t a firm offer yet.
“Yes, well, that’s why I’m calling. We, or shall I say, the purchasing department, is having second thoughts about the timing of this transaction. In the past week alone we’ve seen the number of condominiums on the market skyrocket in the properties adjacent to this particular section of land. The group is concerned that perhaps the area is already saturated and our intent would be to put more multiunit housing projects in place. We’ve also noted a downward trend in the real market values of the homes in that particular area as well. This is a difficult trend for us to navigate when considering a purchase so very close to this unusual local phenomenon.” Not allowing Ms. Davis a chance to ask any questions, he pressed on, “I’m sure you’re well aware of the problems they’re having, which seem to be escalating, and we realize it could all well be over within a day or two but there is the remote possibility that it could be years. We are just not willing to assume the risk, at least not at this time. We are terribly sorry, we understand that you’ve put a great deal of work into the sale and our negotiations, but we are well within our legal rights to withdraw our offer, which is what we intend to do, in writing, this morning.”
It felt, to Beverly, like someone had just run a dagger through her heart, chest pain, unable to breath, anxiety and anger rising, “I thought, I mean, this is coming out of left field. Just yesterday we were on track and there were no problems. Surely the little blip in condo prices is not enough to pull out of such an amazing opportunity. This is literally one of two parcels of land that will ever be available to develop in the Northern Valdosta Region. The upside is huge! I can’t believe you’re considering withdrawing your offer. Perhaps if we just met this morning and addressed your concerns we could….”
He cut her off, “Ms. Davis, unless you can assure us that the serial predator stalking the people and homes in that area can be stopped before we sign on the dotted line, it’s just not going to happen.”
“What are you talking about? You mean that thing with the guy that did those break-ins over the past couple weeks? He’s harmless, a prankster, hasn’t hurt anybody. The cops think it’s just a couple of kids playing games. You are seriously going to cancel a multimillion dollar deal because of that?” she incredulously asked.
“Ms. Davis,” he said, in a stern, attention getting voice, “Have you not seen the news this morning or read the paper? This guy is for real, no college prankster; the police are issuing warnings for people living in that entire region. It’s just more than we wish to engage at this time. Our lawyers will be in touch with your office later this morning. Again, we are truly sorry, but business is business. Good day.”
She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard, another nail in her financial coffin. The sale of the property would have meant hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees she would have collected, the largest sale of her career, now squashed by some pervert getting his jollies. “Shit, shit, shit,” she hammered out with increasing volume, “Why now?” She circled the table talking to herself, “I can’t frickin’ believe this, not now, not when we were so close. Now what the hell am I going to do? I’ll never find another buyer like Okala.” Her mind going a hundred miles an hour, she tried to focus. What had he said about the news, what news? She switched on the local broadcast.
A strikingly beautiful blonde in a business suit, just cut low enough to entice the male audience, sat upright behind a large, expansive desk, computer monitor to her right and a stack of papers in her hands. She looked to be all business this morning, no sweet, sheepish grin, no funny banter with the co-anchor, just right to the facts. “Again, the Sheriff’s Department, by way of Sheriff Lupo himself, has issued a strict warning to the people living in the area south and west of the Air Force Base. There is a very real threat, as they’ve concluded a serial predator is working the aforementioned area and every caution should be taken to secure your safety and the safety of your home and family.”
“What has happened?” she thought. “Come on, tell us what the hell has happened since yesterday!” Bev screamed at the television.
As if the female anchor had heard her, she continued, “Let’s recap that story again for those just joining us. Last night a house on Lori Street was broken into while the owners were out. The home appeared to be ransacked in a search for valuables and the couple has identified numerous items missing from the premises. Based on evidence at the scene, the authorities believe the couple returned home while the perpetrator was still inside. Fortunately there was no confrontation, but significant damage was done to the home and the department was unable to release more details this morning. They will be holding a press conference later in the day to keep the public apprised of the investigation, however, they did specify that this latest break in is a significant escalation in the violent nature of the crimes to date. They are asking the public to report suspicious individuals or behavior, particularly in the area we’ve been talking about. The Sheriff’s Department has set up a hotline that you can call and we’ll put that on the screen for you momentarily.”
Beverly sat back in her chair staring blankly at the woman on the screen. She was lost for words. She had worked her ass off the past ten years, married a husband with a defective heart, inherited a jackass of a stepson, gained fifty pounds, given up every opportunity for another man in her life, and for what? To have it all pulled out from underneath her by a little prick breaking into people’s homes. “Damn it!” she yelled, sweeping her arm across the table sending the now empty coffee cup sailing through the air, shattering on the kitchen wall.
Blanche casually swung back and forth on the porch of Caroline’s B amp;B enjoying the light early morning breeze as it helped dry the droplets of perspiration that were still forming on her skin. She’d kept her promise to herself to get out and run this morning, had been more difficult than expected but still felt great to stretch out and feel the sun on her back as she maneuvered the sidewalks, for three miles, that felt like ten. She had only been enjoying the porch swing for a few minutes before Mrs. Muir joined her.
“Room for two?” she asked.
“Sure, if you don’t mind sitting next to me while I sweat like a pig,” Blanche said, with a smirk.
“Beautiful morning, just love it when there’s enough of a breeze to dampen this stifling humidity. Too bad the news this morning is such a downer,” Mrs. Muir said, trying to read Blanche to see if she’d heard the latest details.
“Yeah, it is beautiful this morning, but what news are you talking about?”
Happy that she got to be the bearer of the bad news, Mrs. Muir expounded, “Well, you know what’s been happening in those homes up by the base, right?” She didn’t wait for Blanche to reply. “There was another one last night and they almost caught him. Was in the house when the couple got home. The Sheriff isn’t saying much but I phoned that friend of mine, you know the one I was telling you about? Anyway, she said, and she has very good connections, don’t you know. Well, she said that the home of Mrs. Criddle, the lady with the fake leg and the mustang, she said, there was some warning written on her living room wall in pig blood. Can you imagine?” she said, excitedly.
“I hadn’t heard that, are you sure?” Blanche questioned.
“Oh, I’m sure, she’s very reliable. Then last night, and don’t tell anybody, cause this isn’t supposed to be out, but last night he killed something with a butcher knife and a carving fork, I think she said it was a pig, then wrote another warning on the wall. Is that creepy or what? Don’t know what this world is coming to.”
Blanche, at this point, had stopped the leisurely sway of the swing and listened intently to what the older woman was saying, knowing to take it for what it was, as she considered the source. “Was anybody hurt, do you
