“Jon won’t be able to get away.” She picked up a pair of scissors off the counter. I could see her face in the mirror. It bordered on sinister. “I’m going to?—”
“You can’t kill Jon.”
Sheryl spun about. She opened her mouth before looking down at the scissors. Even her laugh had a sinisteredge. “I’m not killing nobody. I’m going to give him the best haircut of his life.”
It’d be a disaster, at least for Jon. I had little choice in the matter. I needed coverage, and I wanted as many people invested in the convention. Would I be coming back to Jon’s body lying on the floor with a fresh haircut? Probably.
“I’ll make sure he knows.”
“Don’t tell him,” she said with a smirk. “I don’t want him shaving his head to avoid me.”
Today had taken a very weird turn, and it had barely begun. I offered Sheryl the broom. “Promise. I’ll keep it a secret. I’ll give you a call before the convention with all the details.”
I had almost made it to the door when she shouted, “I’ll see you at Bingo tonight?”
The best way to advertise the convention would be to meet them where they’re gathered. I’d be a fool not to show up to Bingo and spread the gospel. More than that, a certain somebody needed to experience the grandeur of small-town living.
“Oh, I’ll definitely be there.” And I wouldn’t be there alone.
I stood in front of the American Legion, watching as people filed through the front door. I must have been twenty years younger than the average participant at Bingo Night, but I wasn’t nearly as rowdy. As Rupert held the door for hiswife, Millie, I overheard her talking smack. She was going to bring Gladys’s winning streak to an end.
I gasped when I spotted Simon. We had exchanged a dozen texts about the event, specifically about the dress code. My comment about looking like a lumberjack had been in jest. The way the red flannel hugged his upper body, I was already thinking about the wood I wanted him to handle.
“Do I look like I’ll fit in?”
“We can skip Bingo.”
“That bad?”
I adjusted myself. “That good.”
Under the light of the American Legion sign, I watched his cheeks turn red. His humble nature only made him more appealing. Simon knew he was handsome, but he didn’t think others agreed. I didn’t care about their opinions. Right now, he was close to being thrown against the building and stripped naked.
Gladys strolled toward the door, slowing as she eyed the two of us. “Keep the hanky-panky out of Bingo.” She smiled as I held the door open. “So says the reigning queen.”
I gestured for Simon to head in. “What have you gotten me into?”
“Welcome to small-town anarchy.”
We walked into a hundred people milling about. The only time I saw more Firefly residents in one spot was at a funeral. Thirty tables, three wide and ten deep, all facing the front of the hall. Each held a few old metal foldingchairs. The die-hard players brought seat cushions. That’s how you knew they were in it for the long haul.
A small speaker system had been set up, and the Bingo sign, with its glowing numbers, shone bright. It looked innocent enough, but if I waited, I’d see the glares between players. Any other night, they would be the best of friends, but on Bingo Night, only one person walked out the victor.
“Should we grab a seat?” He reached for a chair.
“No!” I pulled his hand away from the seat. “That’s Millie’s seat.”
“I’m sensing there are a lot of unwritten rules.”
“Be careful. This one time, Roger sat in her chair, and let’s just say we haven’t seen Roger since.”
“She killed him?”
I laughed. “Nothing so sinister. Millie put salt in his birthday cake. Revenge is a dish best served baked.”
I pointed to a couple of chairs. “Far enough away from the die-hards and the trolls.”
“Trolls?”
