by Susie Gayle
“Right. Sorry about that, Miss Walsh.” I start to extend my hand, but she walks past me and looks around.
“So this is the pet shop you’re always telling me about on the phone,” her mother says to Sarah. “You know, my neighbor’s daughter works at a pet shop. She’ll be graduating high school in June.”
Sarah bites her lip. Behind her, Denny stares at the floor.
“I’m the business manager, Mom,” Sarah tells her quietly. “Will and I run the store together.”
“I hope you’re paying my daughter at least minimum wage,” Miss Walsh says. “Though I don’t imagine the cost of living is terribly high in this town.”
“Oh, she didn’t tell you? I don’t pay her at all. This is actually an internship,” I joke. Miss Walsh apparently doesn’t find it funny.
She suddenly takes a step back and points at Rowdy, who sits near the counter and watches the older woman. “It appears that one of your… animals has gotten loose from its cage, Mr. Sullivan.”
“You can call me Will. And that’s Rowdy; he’s my dog.”
“Is it safe?”
“He’s very friendly. You can pet him if you’d like.”
“No, thank you, William.”
“Will.”
She looks at me blankly. “Will what?”
Sarah told me that her parents got divorced a few years earlier. When I asked her about it, she cited the legal reason: irreconcilable differences. But now I’m guessing it was actually because her father couldn’t stand to spend five minutes in the same room as this woman anymore. She’s been here half of that and she’s already insulted my girlfriend, my shop, my town, my dog, and my livelihood. Part of me really, really wants to suggest a place she can shove her designer handbag, but I remind myself that she’s still going to be here for two whole days.
“Sarah,” her mother says sharply, causing her to wince again, “we can’t check in until three. I’ve seen the pet shop and met your… boyfriend. Now perhaps there’s a halfway decent place to have lunch around here?”
“Check in? You’re not staying with Sarah?” I ask.
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose like that,” her mother says, smiling. “I’m sure Sarah’s apartment is far too small to accommodate three people.”
I notice Sarah’s jaw clenched tightly and one of her fists balled at her side. How she doesn’t explode on her mother is beyond me; furthermore, how these two women can be so vastly different is just bizarre.
“Well,” I say loudly, “maybe you’d like to go to the Runside? It’s a great little place that serves fresh seafood. And they make their own craft beer—”
“I think it’s a little early in the day to be drinking, don’t you, Mr. Sullivan?”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t want to presume anything about you, Melinda.”
For a half-second, Sarah’s mom’s eyes widen in surprise. Then they narrow just as quickly as she smiles broadly. “So when you take a lunch break, do you just… close your store for a while?”
“I do.”
“And you can afford to do that?” she asks in mock surprise.
“I can.”
“Hm.” Melinda (enough of this “Miss Walsh” stuff, she’s not my first-grade teacher) turns sharply and heads for the door. “Let’s go, then. Sarah, Denny, come along.”
“Uh…” Sarah glances at her mother, and then me. “You know, I… actually shouldn’t go. I was away all morning picking you up, and really need to catch up on the… accounting.” Of course I know this is a brazen lie; Sarah doesn’t do the accounting for the pet shop. But I can tell by the look of desperation in her eye that she already needs a break from her mother.
“Don’t be silly, Sarah.” Melinda waves a hand in the air. “Your boss said it was fine.”
Sarah’s eye twitches a little.
“Actually, she’s right,” I speak up. “She really should catch up on that… accounting. Don’t worry, I’ll take them over to the Runside. We’ll be back soon.”
I give Sarah a hug, and in that brief moment she quickly whispers, “Thank you, I owe you huge.”
“Yeah, you do.” I wink and head out with my new friends in tow.
CHAPTER 4
* * *
“Goodness, there’s quite a bit of dog hair in this vehicle, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Will. And some of it’s cat hair.”
Melinda makes a face and stares out the window as I pull my SUV out of the parking space behind the shop and head toward Center Street. In my rearview, I see Denny staring at the back of my seat.
“So, Denny,” I pipe up. “What do you do?”
In the mirror, he opens his mouth to speak, but Melinda cuts in before he’s able. “Denny is between jobs right now. His inability to drive makes things difficult sometimes.”
“Okay then,” I say. “Denny—”
“I prefer Dennis,” he says quietly.
“Sure. Dennis, what do you want to do?”
“I, uh…” He hesitates, still not looking up from the back of the seat. “I want to write comic books.”
“Huh. Cool.”
“Denny is very whimsical,” Melinda tells me. “He has quite the imagination.”
“Oh, have you read any of his work?” I ask her.
She snorts a little. “No, I mean that he believes writing comic books can be a real job.”
“Ah. I guess he should be, what, a stockbroker or an engineer…”
Melinda shrugs. “Or an entrepreneur. You know, as long as he’s a practical one.”
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and swallow my urge to say anything untoward. As I make the turn onto Main Street, I suddenly remember my promise to Sammy.
“Hey, I just need to make one quick little pit stop,” I tell my passengers, “at Miller’s. I mean, the local grocery store.”
“Don’t you have a Sprawl-Mart here?” Melinda asks.
“Not in town. Everything in Seaview Rock is mom-and-pop; we’re very small business-oriented.”
“How bizarre,” she murmurs.
Good thing she’s looking out the window, or otherwise she’d see me roll my eyes so hard they threaten to stick that way.
***
“Feel free to stay in the car if you’d like,” I tell them. “I’ll just be two minutes.”
“No, no,” Melinda says. “I didn’t just come to see Sarah; I came to see where she lives as well. Besides, I could use some fresh air. Come along, Denny.” The two of them get out of the car and meander down the block as I duck into Miller’s.
It doesn’t take me long to find Ham; he’s been a bagger at the store since he was fourteen, and sure enough he’s front and center stuffing vegetables into a plastic bag for old Mr. Casey, the elderly owner of Sockets & Sprockets.
I sneak up behind him and whisper, “Hi, Ham.”
“Eep!” He spins quickly, eyes wide. They get even wider when he sees it’s me. “Mr. Sullivan! I mean, Will! Hi. Um… what can I do for you?”
“Taken your break yet?”
“No…”
“Good. Finish up here, and then meet me out back.”
“But I have to—”
“Five minutes, Ham.”
“Um… sure. Yeah. Out back.”
Four minutes later, Ham Dobes steps out into the alley behind Miller’s. He glances left and right nervously as he approaches me.
“Will, before you say anything, I just want you to know that—”
“Hush.” I hold up a hand to silence him. “What did you hear?”
“Not much, I swear.”
“Be more specific, Ham. It’s important.”
“Okay, um…” He clears his throat. “I, uh, heard you tell Mr. Barstow—”
“Sammy.”
“Sammy. Yeah. I heard you tell Sammy something about embezzlement or something, or th-that you thought it was that, but it was actually an affair. And you said the names ‘Savage’ and
‘Stein,’ so I kind of put it together.”
I sigh. “And you squealed, Ham? Why?”
He stares at the ground and shakes his head. “I wasn’t going to, I swear. I was going to keep it to myself, but…”
“But what?”
He looks up, but he can’t make eye contact. “The newspaper pays for stories like this.”
“Oh, Ham. You sold them out for money? How much?”
He murmurs, “They gave me three hundred dollars.”
“Good grief, man. You ruined people’s lives for three hundred bucks?”
He sniffles once. “All I did was tell the truth.”
“I…” I start to scold him, but I realize he’s not wrong. And I am being a little hard on him. “You’re right. I’m sorry. They ruined it for themselves. But Ham—I need you to really think hard here. Are you certain that’s all you heard?”
His eyes flit down and to the left. “Yeah, mostly.”
“Ham… why do I get the feeling you’re not being forthcoming?”
“Fine. I also heard Mr. Barstow—Sammy—say something about making up for the money he lost the town.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Did you tell Beverly Quigley about that?” I ask carefully.
He shakes his head fervently. “No. No, I didn’t. I swear. I like Mr. Bar—Sammy. He’s a nice guy. I don’t want to see him in any trouble.”
“What makes you think he’d get in trouble for anything?” I ask, an eyebrow raised.
“I… I don’t. I just assumed…”
“No more assuming, okay? And this will be our secret?”
“Yeah. Definitely. You got it, Will.”
“Good. Thanks, Ham.” I start to walk away, but I hear him mumble something behind me. “What was that?”
“I… I said, uh, that the newspaper would probably, you know, pay for that part, too.”
I almost smile.
Almost.
“Ham, are you trying to extort me?”
“Um… a little?”
I shake my head—and reach for my wallet. “I’ve got eighty bucks on me. That’ll have to do for now; I’ll give you more later.”
“Thanks, Will.”
“Sure, you little con artist.”
“What?”
“I said, have a good one, Ham.”
CHAPTER 5
* * *
My pocket now a little lighter, I go off in search of Melinda and Denny, who I last saw wandering down the block from the grocery store, when my cell phone rings. It’s Sarah.
“Hey,” she says anxiously. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “Your mom… wow. She’s something else. And Denny, the guy barely talks—”
“That’s not what I mean, Will. I saw the newspaper on the counter.”
“Oh, that.” I quickly tell her about the strange visit earlier from Ham, and then my conversation with Sammy, and finally my recent foray into extortion.
“Oh, boy. That’s really no good, Will. Are you sure he’ll keep quiet about that?”
“I think so. Ham’s a good kid—and more importantly, he seems freaked out.”
“What if he wises up? He might realize that this secret is worth more than three hundred bucks.”
“Then I’ll gladly point him in the direction of the people who will be footing his bill, because it definitely won’t be me again.”
Sarah sighs. “All the same, we’ll need to keep a close eye on how this unfolds.”
“Of course. Hey, can you call your mom or something? I have no idea where they went.”
“You lost my mother?” she asks. “Good work. I’ve been trying to do that since I was fourteen.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately it’s not permanent. Hey, by the way, she said something kind of weird; she said she wasn’t just here to see you, but also to see where you live. What’s the deal with that?”
“Oh, who knows. It’s probably her way of making it seem like she doesn’t care too much.”
I snort. “Yeah, can’t have it look like she wants to see her daughter.”
“Again, thanks for doing this. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next two days.”
“We’ll get through it together. Oh, there she is.” Two storefronts down, I see Melinda striding toward me, her head held high enough that her nose is almost literally in the air, like a walking metaphor. “See you later.” I hang up as they approach. “See anything you like?” I ask.
“No,” Melinda says flatly.
“And where’s Denny?”
She stares at me blankly. “I assumed he came to find you.”
“No,” I say slowly. “Haven’t seen him.”
She sighs. “He wanders sometimes. Let me try to call him.” She pulls out her cell and holds it to her ear for several seconds, and then announces, “He’s not answering. That boy, I swear his head is in the clouds…”
“Well, the Pet Shop Stop isn’t far from here. I’m sure he’ll find his way—”
“William, are you suggesting we just leave him behind?”
“No,” I tell her, “I’m suggesting ‘that boy’ is actually a grown man and is capable of finding his way a few blocks. He has a phone, doesn’t he? He’ll call if he needs you.” Which isn’t likely, I add in my mind. I’m betting that Denny—er, Dennis—needs a break from his overbearing mother just as much as Sarah does.
Melinda stares at me with her eyes partially narrowed for longer than I’m comfortable with. I know what she’s doing; she’s testing my resolve.
Unfortunately, it’s not as strong as I’d like it to be. I have to remind myself that I’m tolerating this woman for Sarah—and that anything I say or do will likely be used against her later.
“Look, there’s a comic book store just a couple blocks down the road. Maybe he went there,” I suggest.
“You’re probably right,” Melinda says curtly, finally breaking her fixed gaze. The woman is like a cat; I swear she didn’t blink the whole time. “Lead the way, William.”
I don’t bother to correct her. Instead I guide her down the street to Cosmic Comics. We search the store, but we don’t find Denny. After that Melinda insists we check the liquor store, pharmacy, and the hardware store. Twenty minutes go by, and still no sign of Denny—though suddenly I realize why it took Sarah so long to retrieve them from the train station.
The strangest thing is that Melinda doesn’t seem the least bit aggravated that Denny’s run off; she goes about looking for him with the same kind of neutral attitude one might have while they’re doing dishes or grocery shopping, like it’s just something that needs to be done.
I, on the other hand, am growing increasingly annoyed. After nearly a half hour of searching I say, “Listen, it seems pretty clear to me that Denny doesn’t want to be found.”
Melinda whirls on me (which is kind of impressive, since she’s in heels). “Just what are you suggesting?”
“I think it’s obvious. I’m suggesting that you just let him be for a little while.”
“Do you have children, William?”
I roll my eyes. “You know that I don’t.”
“That’s right. So until you do, maybe you shouldn’t assume what’s best for mine.”
“He’s not a child!” I practically throw my hands in the air. “He’s twenty-four!”
“He is sensitive,” she insists.
The words are right there on the tip of my tongue—Maybe he’s only like that because you treat him like a child—but before they can tumble from my mouth, the scream of a siren interrupts us. Seconds later, an ambulance roars by, heading north on Center Street. Then a police car passes us, its flashers on and siren whooping. I crane my neck to see further up the road; only a few blocks away, the emergency vehicles screech to a halt.
“What the heck…?” I can’t see clearly, but it looks like a small crowd has gathered not far from us. I start in that direction, curi
ous.
“Just where are you going?” Melinda calls after me.
“I want to see what’s going on.”
“Why? Don’t you own a television?”
I ignore her and hurry up the street. I can tell by the click-clack sound of her shoes on the concrete that she’s following.
About a dozen people form a semicircle halfway into the street near the police car and ambulance. As I nudge my way through to see why, I spot Patty Mayhew, the Seaview Rock chief of police, scribbling notes on a pad as she speaks with an older man—Mr. Casey, who I saw earlier in Miller’s.
I push a little further into the crowd until I can what they’re circling, and then I let out a small gasp. Two EMTs strap a woman onto a rigid yellow litter. She doesn’t look seriously injured, at least not superficially, but her eyes are closed and she’s not moving.
But that’s not why I gasp. I gasp because I know the woman on the litter.
The guy standing next to me in the small crowd of onlookers watches with one hand over his mouth. I tap him on the shoulder and ask, “Hey, what happened here?”
He shakes his head, not taking his eyes from the scene in the road. “It’s terrible,” he whispers. “Someone just struck her with a car and then fled.”
“You’re kidding? Did you happen to see who it was?”
He shakes his head again. “I didn’t see it happen, but I heard shouts from inside the deli.”
The pair of EMTs lift the litter between them and carefully load Rachel Stein into the rear of the ambulance.
CHAPTER 6
* * *
“My goodness!” Melinda exclaims as I separate from the small crowd. “A hit-and-run in broad daylight? Are you certain this town is safe?”
“Yes, Melinda, it’s safe,” I snap. “Just… stay here a minute.” As the ambulance sirens fire up and it speeds away, I navigate around the onlookers and closer toward Patty Mayhew and Mr. Casey, in the hopes of overhearing something. I try to keep my back to them as I edge closer, pretending to window-shop.