My Late Father's Protégé Slapped Me in Front of a Crowded Resort Lobby — Until a Stranded Lawyer Read a Forgotten Clause in the Town Charter
The automatic doors hissed open, letting in a blast of cold, swirling air. Leaves skittered across the polished marble floor of the Pine Ridge Lodge lobby. Outside, the sky was a bruised purple, and the wind began to howl around the mountain peaks.
Sheriff Wayne Brody stepped inside, his tan uniform coat dusted with fine, powdery snow that hadn’t quite settled on the ground yet. His gaze swept over the uneasy guests, the distraught front desk staff, and finally landed on Marcus Halloway, who stood rigidly behind the main counter.
“Sheriff,” Marcus said, his voice regaining a measure of control, though his cheek still flared red from where Elena’s mud-stained hand had likely connected. “Thank goodness you’re here. We have a situation.”
Brody nodded, his eyes momentarily flicking to me, where I stood clutching my tattered satchel, the gash on my temple throbbing. He didn’t offer a hint of recognition, despite how many times he’d seen me in town with my father.
“Halloway,” Brody replied, his tone flat and official. “Reports came in about a disturbance.”
Marcus quickly produced a folded document. “It’s a temporary custody directive, Sheriff. This young lady, Elena Somor, is an escaped ward. She’s been causing considerable trouble, including property damage and an assault on staff.”
My blood ran cold. He was doubling down on the lie, even with a law enforcement officer present. My heart hammered against my ribs, a desperate drumbeat.
I stepped forward, ignoring the pain in my cheek. “Sheriff Brody, that’s not true. My name is Elena Somor. This is my family’s lodge. My father, Richard Somor—”
Brody held up a hand, cutting me off. His eyes, usually crinkling at the corners when he’d seen me at the town market, were now entirely devoid of warmth. They just looked past me.
“I understand, young lady,” he said, but his voice was dismissive. “I’ve seen the paperwork. Mr. Halloway has filed all the necessary forms with the county office.”
The guests exchanged glances. Chief Danforth, who had been trying to discreetly get Marcus to reconsider, looked like he’d just swallowed a mouthful of gravel. He stepped forward again, but Marcus cut him off with a sharp gesture.
“Chief Danforth, please escort Miss Somor to the administrative annex,” Marcus ordered, his voice laced with the authority of someone entirely confident in their position. “She needs to be kept separate from the guests until her guardians can be contacted.”
Danforth hesitated, his eyes flicking between me and Marcus. He owed my family, I knew he did. My father had given him his job here when he’d been let go from the state police. But his loyalty was visibly warring with his professional obligation, and Marcus’s stare was a steel trap.
“Is that really necessary, Marcus?” Danforth asked, his voice low.
“It is,” Brody interjected, his gaze firm. “For her safety and the safety of the other patrons. We can’t have a minor, especially one who’s apparently sustained an injury, wandering around a public place without proper supervision.”
He paused, then added, almost as an aside to Marcus, “And about that other matter, Halloway. The transport contracts.”
Marcus’s lips stretched into a thin smile. “Consider it done, Sheriff. Exclusive rights for your brother’s company, Mountain Ridge Haulage, for all Pine Ridge Lodge commercial transport, effective immediately. Valued at thirty-five thousand dollars annually.”
My eyes widened. Thirty-five thousand dollars. Marcus wasn’t just lying; he was actively bribing the town sheriff. A cold, heavy weight settled in my stomach. This wasn’t just a misunderstanding anymore. This was a calculated move.
Brody gave a curt nod. “That will be acceptable. See to it, Halloway.”
He then turned to me, his expression softening slightly, but it felt entirely fake. “Now, Miss Somor, let’s get you somewhere safe and calm. Chief Danforth will ensure you’re comfortable.”
Danforth, his face a mask of conflict, finally moved. He reached for my arm, his touch gentle. “Elena,” he murmured, a silent apology in his eyes.
I pulled away, shaking my head. “You can’t do this, Chief. He’s lying.”
But Brody was already turning to speak to Martha Gable, the chief front desk clerk, about logging the incident. Marcus was issuing instructions, his voice booming with renewed confidence. The entire lobby, previously murmuring, now seemed to shrink away from me, intimidated by the presence of the law.
I was being restricted, not protected. The elegant, familiar lobby, a place that had always felt like home, now felt like a cage. And the man who was supposed to keep the peace was the one locking me inside it.
More Stories
+ There are no comments
Add yours