19: Ronald Jefferson Coleman, by Cat

 

MURDER AND MAYHEM AT CHERRY CREEK

EPISODE

19

BY: CAT

 

 

Ronald Jefferson Coleman

 

 

 

Ronald Jefferson Coleman’s stomach began to rumble as he stepped up to the screen door on Fat Sally’s Read and Feed. He pushed on a large tin advertising sign that covered the middle of the door. The “g” was washed off leaving it to read:  Kello’s Sugar Pops. The sign crackled, as it swung inward. The strong smell of chicory assaulted the air and made his nose flare. He was suddenly reminded he had skipped his usual breakfast that morning.

 

Inside the diner he spied a pretty young woman in peg-legged blue jeans and a Peter Pan collared white shirt, standing near an espresso machine. She held a small blue tin in one hand and a silver scoop in the other.

 

 The espresso machine was a pleasant surprise to Ronald. Who would have thought a town that had never seen a credit card would have this? A black board behind the counter read “Today’s Java: Baskerville Horehound”. By strange coincidence, horehounds happened to be Ronald Coleman’s favorite candy. He fingered the last few horehound drops in the bottom of his pocket as he read the sign and eyed the pie tin on the counter below. He also noticed it held the last remainder of  lemon meringue pie.

 

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Hello?” His accent almost sounded midwestern.

 

Startled, Abbey turned quickly around to find herself face-to-face with the colored man she’d seen just a few minutes before conversing with Cadlin. Away from the comparison of the lanky mechanic, the man appeared taller than she first assumed. His face was a smooth velvety chocolate with just a hit of a dark afternoon moustache shadowing his full top lip. The few creases in his forehead and the salt in his hair helped her estimate he was probably in his forties. Abbey was surprised at the flip her stomach was doing. She was not one to be swayed easily by looks. It was fair to say though, that his dark eyes, and soft cultured voice, momentarily took her breath away.

 

“May I help you?” Abbey was unaware that she was smoothing her hair, tucking on side behind her ear as she spoke. She smoothed imagined wrinkles from her shirt as she accepted the man’s offered hand. His shake was firm, but Abbey would have preferred it linger in hers a bit longer. While he introduced himself, Abbey’s usually serious mouth took on a hint of a smile.

 

“The mechanic over there suggested I come see a “Miss Abbey”. His face questioned Abbey as he threw his head in the direction of the filling station. “Might that be you?”

 

“Ah, a…yes, that would be me.” The usually self-assured Abbey stuttered. “Abigail French. This is my establishment. Are you here for lunch?”

 

“Well, Ma’m, there’s nothing more than I would like to do right now then have a good cup of coffee and homemade pie, but it seems I have a bit of a problem.”

 

Ronald Coleman explained his encounter with Cadlin and the fact that his government issued Ameri-Xpress Card did not seem to be acceptable in Cherry Creek. He assured her, taking out his business card, he was not a drifter and just needed to find out how to remedy the financial situation he found himself in.

 

“I’m, sorry Mr. Jackson.” Abbey said with true regret. “I’m afraid you’ll find few places in Cherry Creek are equipped to handle your credit card. Folks are not afraid of extending credit. It’s just that it’s usually done with a handshake which is much easier for them to process than some bank card.  Your best bet is the Biltmore Bank in town. I’m sure they can help you out of your current economic quandary.”

 

“How far a stroll is it into town, Miss? The man was looking down at his wingtips. Not exactly the Keds he'd need for a country hike. Seems that mechanic is planning on holding my car hostage until I resolve this problem.” Ronald shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe the situation in which he found himself.

 

“I’m headed that way now, Mr. Jackson. You are welcome to ride along. My visit with the Sheriff should take about sixty minutes. If you don’t mind waiting after you finish your business at the bank, you can catch a return ride. Miss Dolly’s place is just catty-corner from the bank. That’s her pie you’ve been eyeing, so I’m sure you’d be satisfied to spend your time waiting at the Pale Rider.” Abbey was surprised that she was secretly hoping he’d accept her offer.

 

The man simply nodded in agreement and held the door open for Abbey to exit before him. Abbey hurried out to her old Volkswagon. In her uncharacteristic nervousness, she forgot to holler back to Robbie that she was leaving. The front door banged shut behind them.

 

When Ronald Jackson opened the driver’s door, Abbey was at first shock that the man might assume he would be driving her car. Ronald waited while Abbey slid behind the wheel before closing the door and walking around to the passenger door. Bending down, he lifted Abbey’s Realtone transistor radio off the plaid covered seat. He seemed to be examining the leather casing before he laid it on the dashboard, and settled into his seat.

 

“Oh, sorry.” Abbey found herself apologizing to the man. My car radio has been on the fritz since the day I pulled into Cherry Creek. Although Cadlin and Scotty have been miracle workers with Old Blue here, neither of them have figured out how to fix my radio.”

 

“I’m pretty good at electronics, Abbey. Seems I might be around this town a few days. If you’d like, I’d be happy to take a look at it. Providing, of course, you quit calling me “Mr. Jackson” and call me Ron.” The man teased.

 

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” Abbey replied too quickly. “I really don’t want to impose on you.” She blushed hesitantly. “Ron.” Even as she refused his offer, she was thinking of letting him have a look at the radio sometime in the near future.

 

Abbey had just shifted into reverse, glad to have her driving to concentrate on when she looked in the rearview mirror and gasped. Had she not looked, she’d have backed right into that dang cub reporter! There he sat on that silly moped of his, literally blocking Abbey’s exit. His mouth hung open wide enough to gather a bevy of flies.

 

Abbey rolled her window down, leaning to look behind the car and spoke irritably to the boy. “Scooter! When he did not react right away, she had to wonder if he was frozen in some type of trance. "SCOOTER!" She snapped at him louder this time. "What the heck are you doing? I darn near backed right over you!” Ronnie Jackson suddenly realized she was talking to him and nearly fell of his scooter in an effort to move out of her way. While awkwardly walking his vehicle out of the way while still straddling it, he continued to stare at Abbey and her passenger. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Or his ears. How could she not know how much he hated that nickname? His heart sunk as he watched Abbey turn and smile as she spoke to the man in the seat next to her. If she leaned any closer to him, Ron swore he'd throw himself in front of her car.

 

“What the heck was going on here?” He muttered to himself.  He was determiend to wait in the diner to find out, if he had to wait the rest of the night.