Merry Market Murder(8)

On the side of the new truck, written in bigger, bolder letters than were used on the side of the Ridgeways’ was “Stuckey Christmas Trees.”

Tree illustrations also decorated the panel, which made the Stuckey truck much prettier than the Ridgeway truck.

“Uh-oh,” I said.

“What’s up?” Sam said.

“I’m pretty sure Allison mentioned that the Ridgeways had an exclusive, that there wouldn’t be any other tree sellers at Bailey’s.”

“You mentioned that to me. Maybe it’s a fluke. Maybe the Stuckey truck isn’t here to sell—maybe there are some mechanical issues and the driver just had to stop somewhere? He could just be here to shop.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” I said. I hoped that was the case.

The Stuckey truck came to a loud, squeaky, air-brake halt. The man who got out of the driver’s side looked nothing like Santa. He was tall, thin, and wiry, with short, dark hair and a beaked nose, which somehow fit his long face. He stood next to his truck on one side of the lot as Denny stood next to his on the other side. They both had their hands on their hips as they stared at each other, reminding me of an Old West showdown. I could almost hear the whistle of the Ponderosa theme in the background; if they’d had guns, both would have drawn them by now.

“Or maybe there’s a big problem,” Sam said.

We were all about to find out just how big.





Three





“I have the paperwork,” Reggie Stuckey said, the tone of patience gone from his voice. He’d seemed like such a pleasant guy until Allison told him that he wasn’t contracted to sell his trees at Bailey’s, and that Ridgeway Farm had the exclusive right.

Fortunately, this crisis was happening in the parking lot and not inside the market. The only customers privy to it were the ones who’d either just driven onto the lot or come out of the market and were curious about the small gathering beside the nicer-looking tree truck.

Reggie Stuckey had shaken everyone’s hand, including Denny Ridgeway’s. There was no doubt that the two of them didn’t like each other, though Denny was less obvious about his feelings than Billie and Ned were.

The gathering consisted of the tree farmers, Allison, me, Sam, and Brenton, who’d come with Allison out of her office. I stood toward the back of the crowd, and I was able to watch Brenton’s attitude change as the conversation continued. He was pleased that there was some sort of disagreement. Specifically, I suspected he was pleased that the Ridgeway group was somehow bothered or inconvenienced or something. I hoped Allison had been able to get to the bottom of his problem.

“I have paperwork, too, Reggie. I had meetings with the Bailey’s owners and later with Allison. They assured me I was going to be the only Christmas tree seller at Bailey’s this year,” Denny said. His patience was also being tested, though he was still trying to sound unperturbed.

Reggie blinked a couple times, but didn’t back down.

“I didn’t have meetings, but I certainly have the paperwork. I did everything by phone.” He looked at Allison. “I only talked to the owners, though,” he said to her.

She nodded.

As I’ve already noted, Allison’s pretty good at everything. She’d been unduly challenged in the last hour, but she was still cool and collected, her long, dark ponytail still in place and smooth. I’d been concerned enough for her that I’d already run my hands through my short, blonde hair about a hundred times. I was trying to stay quiet and keep calm, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I would last.

“Do you have the paperwork on you, Reggie?” Allison asked.

“I think so,” he said before he turned and climbed back into his truck.

“You want me to send Ned back to the farm to get our contract?” Denny asked Allison.

“No, I’ve got a copy of that one. Of course, I wasn’t in on the conversations between you and the owners, Denny, but I’m sure that they and I specifically discussed that you were to be our exclusive tree seller. I know that’s what your contract says. Exclusivity is definitely something you talked about with them as well as me, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Denny said.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the contract, but I can call my office manager and have her fax it over to you. I can ask her to bring it over if you’d prefer,” Reggie said from the truck’s driver’s seat.

“Faxing would be fine.” Allison looked at Reggie as he scooted off the seat again. She bit her lip as she looked quickly at Denny and then back to Reggie. “Look, there’s some sort of confusion or mistake. I’m sorry to both of you, but I will get this figured out. Reggie, I’m not going to ask you to leave, but would you mind not unloading your trees until I get a look at the contract?”