“Takin’ my break, Howard,” Carmen calls out and scoots out from behind the coffee bar. She plops in the chair opposite Holly and studies her. “I take it you found him?”
“Not exactly.” Holly struggles to form the words. “He’s dead.”
“What!” Carmen exclaims, loud enough to draw the eyes of everybody in the restaurant. “How is that possible? I mean, how did it happen?”
“I don’t know.” Holly stares at her phone, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions she’s feeling.
“Well, did you ask? Who told you?” Carmen rattles off the questions as if Holly has the answers.
“I don’t know,” Holly repeats numbly.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Did you ask?” Carmen probes. “We really need to know, it may make a difference, and it may explain things. Maybe you are just being haunted.”
Holly just stares ahead of her, focusing on nothing in particular just to avoid facing her friend’s inquiries. She doesn’t know how long she sits like that before Carmen gives up and walks away but it feels like an eternity as she rolls through the images in her head trying to make sense of the phone call, trying to understand how Tristan could be gone.
Could he be haunting her? The world goes on around Holly as she sits in the café pondering the final loss of her childhood best friend and love of her life. This is how my mom feels, she thinks at one point.
Before the phone call, Tristan was gone from her life, but still walking and talking and laughing somewhere. After the phone call, Tristan is just gone. Before and after. Holly feels like she should cry, like she should be mourning Tristan but she can’t. The tears don’t come. She just feels numb. No, that’s not right either, she feels empty.
Carmen pops up in front of her. “I think I have a lead but I need you to cover closing so I can go meet this guy.”
Holly snaps to attention. “What?”
“I made some calls and I think I have a way to find out what happened to your guy.”
“So, why can’t I go?” Holly asks, if somebody can give her answers, she wants them firsthand.
“He’s really cagey, a warlock that doesn’t like humans and he only deals with supernaturals. I’ve only got a limited window of time so I need to go now if I’m going to get the information. Can you finish closing? Don’t go outside, I’ll take the trash out when I get back and we’ll go back to my place tonight, ‘kay?”
“Carmen….” Holly doesn’t even know what to say, she can’t think of an argument that stands a chance at changing her friend’s mind. She can’t think of much of anything other than Tristan right now.
“Hol, just stay put, finish up the few things around here and relax. You just got some seriously bad news and you’ve been sitting here doing the best impression of a coma patient that I’ve ever seen,” Carmen says firmly. “You’re safe here and I will be back in a few hours.” She doesn’t wait for a response, just sprints out the door leaving Holly alone in the café.
Holly sighs and assesses the mess Carmen left behind. It’s actually better than usual but she might as well get it done; Carmen’s right, she’s not exactly at the top of her game. She cleans up the dining room and barista bar in record time. The mindless work has succeeded in taking her mind off other things but the only thing left is the trash. There are only three bags waiting in the stock room, she can be done and back inside in minutes.
Bumping the alley door open with her ass, she kicks the chunk of wood they use as a door stop into place. She chucks the first two bags into the bin without difficulty but the third is too heavy to toss.
Holly practically has to drag the bag over to the dumpster, praying the whole time that it doesn’t tear and break on the concrete. She’s not even sure how she’ll get it into the bin. What the hell is in this thing?
She is so focused on the task at hand that she doesn’t hear the footsteps in the alley until the attacker’s hand covers her mouth. She tries to fight, kicking backward but she’s caught in an iron grip and can’t budge her arms. Holly screams into the gloved hand.
“Don’t even try to fight,” a gruff whisper echoes through Holly’s head and the arm around her chest squeezes tighter. Footsteps pass behind them and into the open door of the café. “It’s too bad your friend left you alone.”
“It’s too bad your friends left you alone.” A cool, even voice ripples from the shadows at the end of the alley. “Release the woman.”
“Or you’ll do what?” The voice behind her challenges the darkness.
“Oh, I’ll kill you whether you release her or not,” the voice is even, unemotional, “it will just be a faster death if you let her go.”
“My partners will be back in a minute and then you’ll be outnumbered, friend.” Holly’s assailant is stalling.
“It will take less than that to kill you.” The new voice, Holly’s would-be savior, seems to surround them. Holly’s assailant releases her and she falls forward, her knees hit the ground with too much force and she cries out in spite of herself. A body hits the pavement beside her, eyes open and face frozen in a look of horror. She recognizes the guy, he’s a regular at the café. Holly leaps to her feet, away from the body.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Two men in black emerge from the back door of the café. They see Holly standing over their friend and move in on her.
She backs away from them, shocked and horrified. “I didn’t do that,” Holly sputters, “somebody else is here.”
“I don’t see anybody else.” One attacker advances, now brandishing a knife.
“I’m right here.” The voice from earlier fills the alley. “You should know better than to threaten ladies.” A large splinter of wood emerges from the stomach of one of the men. He looks down in shock and then crumples with just a whimper. The other man has no time to respond before Holly’s guardian angel is on him. There’s little struggle.
“You really should be more careful, Holly.” The voice addresses her, standing over the three bodies of her attackers. “Honestly, you attract more trouble than anybody I’ve ever seen.”
“Who are you?” Holly manages. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but you just killed three men.”
“These things were not men.”
Holly’s eyes adjust to the darkness, realization dawning on her. “Tristan?”
Her rescuer steps into the beam of light from the open café door. “Hello, Hol.”
“But….you’re dead?” Holly sputters, backing away from him, from the bodies.
“I’d like a chance to explain everything, if you will let me.” Tristan steps cautiously toward her.
“You stopped returning my calls, my letters.” Holly’s voice returns with her rage, years of pent up frustration at the loss of Tristan. “It has been you, hasn’t it, haunting me for the past few weeks, making me think I was going crazy. You’re the cloud over my life,” Holly accuses.
“No, I mean, yes, I’ve been around but I’ve been protecting you,” Tristan argues back. “Holly, let me tell you what happened. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”
“You let your mom think you are dead!” Holly shrieks.
“That’s not the whole story either.” Tristan puts his hands up, a peace offering. “Can we just go inside and talk? Please?”
“No. I have nothing more to say to you. Leave me the hell alone, Tristan!” Holly screams at him, fury blazing in her eyes.
Tristan’s face falls. “I’m sorry, Holly. I’m so sorry about everything, I just want a chance to explain. Won’t you give me just ten minutes?”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Holly says firmly. She walks by him and back into the café, pulling the door shut behind her. Thankfully, he doesn’t follow.
“Holly?” Carmen’s voice carries from the front of the café. “Hol, are you okay?”
“Right here,” Holly calls from the stock room where she’s leaning against the door trying to figure out how to explain all of this.
CHAPTER NINE
“There was a letter for you on the porch,” Carmen says as she steps into the Chamberlain house.
Puzzled, Holly accepts the envelope from Carmen. It’s silver with her name written in neat black letters. “Where was it?” Holly asks.
“Just propped against the door.” Carmen shrugs. “Who do you think it’s from?”
“I can’t imagine.” Holly has a sick thought, “you don’t think it’s something dangerous, do you?”
“No, couldn’t get past the wards.” Carmen dismisses her fears. “Good-bye letter from Greg?”
Holly snorts. “Definitely not his style.”
“Then I guess you just have to open it and find out.” Carmen arches an eyebrow, challenging her. “Maybe it’s a secret admirer.”
“Indeed.” Holly scoffs as she toys with the envelope, turning it over in her hands. She leads Carmen up to her room and tosses the envelope on her desk. “I’ll deal with it later. Have you found out anything else about the guys who attacked me last night?”
“Not anything we didn’t already know.” Carmen sprawls on Holly’s bed and kicks her shoes to the floor. “Tristan wasn’t lying to you, they weren’t human. They were shifters. We know they got past the wards because they’d been in the coffee shop before, all three were regulars. They didn’t take anything from the register, they were looking for something else.”
“So, they weren’t there for me or the money,” Holly paces her room, “but they would have killed me if given the chance.”
Carmen nods. “I think so, yes.”
“But if I’d stayed inside, they couldn’t have harmed me at all. If I would have listened to you, none of that would have happened.”
“But you wouldn’t have seen Tristan either,” Carmen points out. “And now you know he’s alive.”
“Not to me,” Holly spits out.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little unfair?” Carmen asks. “I mean, I did find out that he isn’t the one behind the cloud over your life.”
“No, you found out that it is highly unlikely that he is the cause,” Holly counters. “Your warlock friend didn’t seem to bring us any closer to sorting things out.”
“He did so!” Carmen argues. “He told us that it will happen soon and that if you are not careful, you will lose your life.”
“Nice.” Holly sighs. “That is a huge help. Something is coming soon and we don’t know what it is but if I make the wrong choices when it happens then I’ll die. Awesome. That really narrows it down. Who’s to say that choosing to bring that package in from the porch isn’t the thing that triggers the wrong choice? Sheesh, really, Carmen, we are no closer to figuring things out and I don’t see how you can keep watch over me for the rest of my life.”
“I don’t mind. I like you, we have fun. I don’t see the problem.”
“You don’t see the problem?” Holly blinks at her friend. “You would watch over me, babysit me for the rest of my life?”
“Yeah, why not?” Carmen sounds confused, like she doesn’t get why it’s such a big deal.
“It just seems boring. I mean, I’m just a boring human going about a boring life and you’ve seen so many things.” Holly doesn’t understand, not even a little.
“You don’t get how friendship works, do you?” Carmen asks.
“I guess not. People always leave me.” Holly shrugs. “I’m used to that part of things.”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work, Hol.” Carmen shakes her head, eyes full of a strange sorrow.
Uncomfortable under the weight of Carmen’s gaze, Holly changes the subject. “Something is still bothering me about last night, Carmen. How did Tristan do all of those things? He was so fast, like he was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.”
“You think something supernatural was involved?” Carmen accepts the subject change.
“I don’t know. Maybe I was just imagining things. The echoes of the alley and the shadows might have just played tricks on me.” Holly tries to dismiss her concern.
“It’s possible, but if you think something is wrong then it probably is. Trust your instincts, Holly,” Carmen advises.
“Maybe I’m just angry at him and I’m projecting.” Holly’s psych studies take over, analyzing her own reactions and feelings.
“Perhaps,” Carmen agrees.
“I told him to leave me alone,” Holly says softly. “I was so angry at him. Seeing him standing there like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t left and completely cut me out of his life.”
“You were angry, Hol.” Carmen shifts to a seated position and tucks her feet beneath her. “If he found you once, he will find you again. Maybe hear him out this time?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can forgive him.”
“Holly,” her mom calls up the stairs, “we’ve got more of the neighbor’s mail!”
“Your mom is still trying to hook you up with the neighbor?” Carmen asks.
“Yep, she’s relentless,” Holly grumbles. “She’s convinced he’s rich because of all of the renovations he’s done on the house. Never even seen the man, but Mom’s convinced he’s the one for me. Nice, huh?”
“Wait, she’s never met the guy?” Carmen balks.
“Nope.” Holly throws her hands up in the air. “I’m back home where my mom is playing matchmaker with the mystery neighbor who moved into my old boyfriend’s house only my old boyfriend is back in town playing Superman to my Lois Lane. My life is eighty shades of fucked up, isn’t it?”
“This is why I like you, Holly Chamberlain,” Carmen beams, “you are so excitable. It reminds me of when I was young and the world held so much wonder. You are very much worth saving, Holly, whether you believe it or not.”
“Holly!” Carrie Chamberlain calls up the stairs again. “Did you hear me, Holly?”
She peeks out the door and hollers down, “Yeah, Mom, I heard you. I’ll be down in a bit to take it over.” Holly turns back to Carmen. “She’s relentless.”
“She loves you,” Carmen reminds her. “I’ll go with you, then I’ve got to head to the café. Wanna go with me?”
“I think I’d rather stay in tonight, if that’s okay by you.” Holly nods toward her computer. “I’ve got to work on my thesis. I’ve kinda been putting it off and I’m running out of time.”
“That’s cool.” Carmen pops off the bed. “Let’s deliver this mail and I’ll get going so you can work.”
“Fair enough,” Holly agrees and leads the way down the steps. The neighbor’s mail is propped against the key bowl at the bottom of the stairs.
“So what’s Prince Charming’s name?” Carmen teases.
“I think it’s a fake.” Holly points at the address on the envelope. “H. Caulfield is the main character in Catcher in the Rye.”
“So, maybe his parents were big fans,” Carmen suggests. “Wouldn’t be the first time parents name their kid after a literary character.”
“No, I suppose not,” Holly concedes it is possible. She just figured it was more likely a fake name. They head over to the house, Holly notes the changes to the exterior, tinted windows and new siding.
“Whoever he is, he’s paranoid,” Carmen gestures toward the shutters, “there are cameras everywhere.”
Holly doesn’t see any sign of cameras but she takes her friend’s word for it. She looks for the mail slot but finds that not only is it gone, the entire front door has been replaced. “The mail slot is gone.”
“So just tuck it under the mat.” Carmen absently points at the welcome mat. “I think we should go, Holly.”
“Um, okay.” Holly tucks the letter under the mat and follows her friend down the steps and back to her own yard.
“Stay in your house tonight, Hol. No matter what. Just stay put.” Carmen emphasizes the last part. “I want to look into your new neighbor a bit further. Don’t do anything until I call you.” She shoves Holly into the house and takes off.
“Was that Carmen?” Carrie
Chamberlain walks out of the living room.
“She had to go to work, Mom.” Holly excuses her friend. “She just stopped off to check on me.”
“What a good friend.” Carrie nods approvingly.
Holly nods her agreement. “Yeah, she is. Mom, I need to go work on my thesis. I’m going to be upstairs for the rest of the night.” She leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay,” her Mom looks confused for a moment but then pats her on the arm, “don’t study too hard tonight.”
Holly gives her another squeeze and heads up the stairs to her room. She shuts the door and closes her curtains, suddenly aware of how close the window across the way is, the one Tristan used to flash notes from. The new neighbor could have been watching her all along. Holly chastises herself for being so careless. It didn’t matter when the house was empty but it isn’t anymore and hasn’t been for weeks. Perhaps she was too comfortable knowing about Carmen’s wards. Who knows what information the new neighbor could have gleaned from watching her house?
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