A Problem in Paxton Park by J. A. Whiting

Author:J. A. Whiting [Whiting, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Whitemark Publishing
Published: 2019-03-02T05:00:00+00:00

14

With Justice supervising from the steps, Shelly planted some spring flowers in the bed in front of the porch. Tulips and daffodils had put on a beautiful show last month and she thought the space in front of the house should have some more welcoming blooms.

Shelly had been thinking about the previous day’s meeting with the three people who had gathered near Wilson Barrett after his body had been discovered in the park and she’d been chattering to the Calico about how it went.

Justice watched the flowers being set into the soil and listened to the young woman’s complaints about someone who attended the meeting almost as if the cat would give some advice on how he should have been handled.

“Some people are such jerks.” Shelly gently tamped down the soil around the base of the plant.

“Who’s a jerk? I hope you’re not talking about me,” a man’s voice said.

Looking up into her landlord’s face, Shelly blushed slightly hoping he hadn’t heard her talking out loud to the cat. “Mr. Ballard. Nice to see you.” She stood, wiped her hand on her jeans to remove some soil, and shook hands with the man.

A lifelong resident of Paxton Park, Mr. Ballard was in his seventies, had thick white hair and was slim and tanned from spending a lot of time outside. “I had to come over this way to see someone renting one of my houses two streets over. I saw you out here so I stopped. The place looks great. You take good care of it. I appreciate it.”

Shelly put her trowel down on the grass. “I love the house. It’s perfect for me.”

“And how about the cat?” Mr. Ballard asked. “She like it okay?”

From her position on the step, Justice trilled at the man causing him and Shelly to laugh.

“I guess that means she does.” Mr. Ballard reached down to pat the fine animal and Justice turned her head slightly from side to side to be sure the man scratched all the right spots.

Straightening up, Ballard said, “I wish the guy on the other street kept the house half as tended as you do.”

“Is something going wrong with the house?” Shelly questioned.

Ballard rubbed at the back of his neck. “I have a lawn service for that rental because the guy said he didn’t want to take care of it himself. I stopped over there because he told me the bathtub wasn’t draining. You should see inside. It’s like a tornado went through it. Stuff everywhere. It’s a dirty mess. The guy is a pig. I’m going to have to start eviction proceedings. I’m getting too darned old for this.”

“What if you give him a warning? Tell him he has to have the place cleaned up in two weeks.”

“I’ve given him two warnings already.” Ballard shook his head. “I’ve got twenty properties in town, some of them apartment buildings. Once in a while, I get a renter who trashes the house. It can take months and months to evict them, and then it takes a good amount of money to return the place to the way it was.

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