Read Mistletoe Man - China Bayles 09 for Free Online Page B

to his stock tank. All we wanted was a
nominal fee—a dollar a year, say—that would acknowledge our ownership. But
that only seemed to make him angrier." Donna made a face. "Anyway,
the water isn't the only issue. It's the pecan trees, too. Apparently, his
father grafted those pecans back in the twenties, with some sort of special
stock. And of course, he's always gathered the mistletoe there. I guess he
figures we're going to cut it and sell it ourselves."
    "You bet we are," Aunt Velda
said with satisfaction. She gave me a commanding look. "Next year, you're
gonna buy ever' last bit of your mistletoe from us, y'hear?"
    "Sounds like a
complicated situation," I said. "I wonder how Swenson managed to
misplace the boundary line."
    "The surveyor
said it was because the land is so broken and hilly along that ridge,"
Donna replied. "I wish we could negotiate some sort of deal," she
added unhappily, "but Carl won't listen to reason. He swore he was going
to make our lives so miserable that we'd be glad to turn the place back over to
him. And now we think he's resorting to vandalism. First there were the goats,
which practically destroyed our new peach trees, and the possum trap that Max
got into, which was set on our property. Then there was the sugar in Lizzie's
gas tank, which has caused no end of trouble. And last week, somebody slashed
the plastic covering on the small greenhouse, where we had some plug trays
filled with campanula seedlings. We can repair the greenhouse, but it's way too
late in the year to reseed those plants. They were a big investment—the seed
isn't cheap." She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. "Terry and I
have been standing watch at night, but we can't keep that up forever. You're a
lawyer, China—we were hoping that you could tell us how to put an end to
this."
    It's true that I'm still a lawyer.
I've been careful to keep my options open by maintaining my membership in the
Texas Bar. But I haven't been in a courtroom since I came to Pecan Springs, and
I'm not ready to start now. Still, I could see that the Fletcher sisters had a
problem and I wanted to help them if I could. I admire women for whom the
impossible is all in a day's work.
    Aunt Velda leaned
over and stroked Donna's blue-jeaned thigh. "I keep tellin' you,
dear," she said comfortingly, "Carlos Swansong is history. You'll
see—they're gonna take care of him. Next thing he knows, he'll be up there
cleaning out them Klingon latrines."
    "It doesn't sound as if you have
the evidence to get Swenson charged with vandalism," I said, "but you
might be able to make a stalking charge stick. You'd have to testify that on at
least one occasion he threatened, either by his actions or his words, to
inflict injury on you, your family, or your property. Were there any witnesses
to his temper tantrum?"
    "Just Aunt Velda
and me," Donna said. She hesitated. "Would Aunt Velda have to testify
in court?"
    I frowned. The case
would stand a better chance if the old lady could testify, but she'd make a
terrible witness. Anyway, stalking was only a Class B misdemeanor, which at
best would get Swenson a two-thousand-dollar fine, maybe a few weeks in jail.
Or maybe not, depending on the judge.
    "How about an
alarm system?" I asked. "Or maybe you could hire somebody to keep an
eye on the place at night."
    "We've already thought of an alarm,"
Donna said, "but we don't have that kind of money. And both of us agree
that even if we could afford a security guard, we don't want one. We value our
privacy. And who wants to live in an armed camp?"
    I could understand that. "Well, my best
advice is to document everything," I said. "Every event that
happens, every word he says to you. Take your flash camera when you stand watch
at night. If you could get a picture of him doing his dirty work, he could be
charged with criminal mischief. That could be a first-degree felony, depending
on the amount of the damage. It would put him out of circulation for a
while."
    Donna looked