by K. J. Emrick
Her voice has that same sort of soft compassion in it that James had in his when I’d told him about it. The same tone that Kevin had. Rosie, too. I’m glad I have friends who care about me, but I’m so tired of the soft compassion.
“Sure,” I tell her, even though I’m all talked out. I’m tired of talking. Talking hasn’t brought my daughter back. “Maybe later. Right now, I think we’ve got bigger issues. Like lunch.”
“And Orville McGowan’s note,” she reminds me, coming right back to that.
“Yes. Believe me, I haven’t forgotten. Tell you what. I’ll set you up in a room for the night. Stay here, and maybe tomorrow this mess will have settled down and we can talk more and maybe even do something fun.”
“Sounds good to me,” she says, but then quickly adds, “Er, you need my card to charge it?”
“No worries, Jasmine. No charge for my friends.”
Taking the car keys with me, I step out of the car, with Jasmine right behind. The note is still locked in the glove box and I’m not taking chances with it after everything that’s gone on. Even though we’re back in Lakeshore, I lock the car doors behind us as well. No sense taking chances. Jasmine takes a moment to tie up her shoe, and then we’re off.
There’s more than a few cars in our tiny lot this morning. Not all of them are guests. That’s nothing unusual, because our Inn cooks the best food in town, bar none. I’ve got regulars for Saturday morning who’ve lived in Lakeshore all their lives. They’d rather eat here than at home. The tourists come here too, or at least the ones who don’t stock up on supplies at Cathy’s Milkbar before going off on a trek around the lakes or up Hartz Peak.
I prepared myself for the aroma of lunch. Good old chicken schnitzel with beer battered fries and pumpkin and penne salad and the drool worthy creamy garlic prawn pasta. Yum. My mouth was watering just imagining it.
All of that and more is being readied out there in the kitchen, hot and ready, to be served to hungry people just like me. I was ready to just sit down, and relax, and forget about everything for a few minutes.
Instead, a loud crash met my ears as soon as I walked in the front door. Another one came immediately afterward. They came from the kitchen.
Something was wrong.
With Jasmine tagging right behind I run into the dining room, hoping I won’t find that the walls themselves are tumbling down. The kitchen is just beyond, over there, but I want to check things here first.
The round tables are right where they should be, ringed by chairs and perfectly set with tablecloths and candles and fancy salt and pepper shakers. There’s plenty of people in the room, too, all sitting in their chairs, all safe and sound…
And all staring at the other side of the room where the swinging door leads into the kitchen.
Well. Guess I know where the crashes came from.
“It’s okay, everyone,” I say, raising my voice to get their attention on me, instead of on whatever is going on in my kitchen. “Everything is fine. Go back to your meals.”
Several of them looked my way. A few of them wave. One of them gives me a big smile. “Hey, Dell. Weren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”
“I was…” Something else in the kitchen goes crash. “But, uh, something came up.”
He shrugs and goes back to eating his chicken burger. “Seems like you’re back just in time. Want me to go check it out with you?”
“No, thanks. I’m sure it’s—”
A metal pot clatters to the floor somewhere in the kitchen.
“—er, nothing.”
He shrugs again, obviously happy to let me deal with whatever’s going on in there. Commotion from the Pine Lake Inn’s kitchen isn’t exactly uncommon, so our regulars know enough to just take things in stride, but that’s usually when Rosie’s here and doing her magic with her usual sort of grace. Rosie’s supposed to be off today, however, back at home to take care of herself and those two young ones with their colds.
So what’s going on in there now?
At the door between the kitchen and the dining room, I stop and silently listen for a moment. When everything stayed silent, I figured it was safe to go in. After all, it’s my Inn. Can’t be afraid of a little noise.
Although it would be nice if one of my ghost friends was around right now to sort of scout ahead for me. Typical. Never a ghost about when you want one.
I push the door inward, slowly, and it catches something that scrapes all along the linoleum floor. Peeking my head in first, I catch sight of the aftermath of some tornado that must’ve just ripped through my kitchen. There was debris everywhere. On the countertops, in the sink, across the rest of the floor around the island counter. Broken plates. Broken glasses. A jigsaw puzzle of splintered wood that I’m pretty sure used to be a serving bowl. I’m afraid to look up, because I have a feeling there’ll be odds and ends stuck in the ceiling, too.
At the far side of the room, huddled in a corner, is my best friend Rosie. She’s a big woman to have pushed herself into such a tiny space, and maybe she’s a bit more woman than she used to be now that she’s given birth to the twins, but she’s certainly doing her best to disappear in that corner.
There’s a look of panic on her face, and strands of her chestnut brown hair have flown loose from the tie holding the rest of it in a short tail. She’s got one hand fisted into her flowered apron. Whatever had her so upset must’ve been serious.
In her other hand is a whisk broom. Most of the bristles have been beaten off. The way Rosie’s holding onto it, you’d think she was fighting off an invasion of zombies.
Her eyes find mine, and in between gasping breaths she explains what all the commotion is about.
“Saw a spider. Big spider. Big, big spider.”
A spider. “Did it attack you?” I rack my brain, running through the very short list of ‘big’ spiders we have here in Tassie, and which ones were poisonous. “Was it a cave spider? One of those funnel web things? Lord have mercy, Rosie, did it bite you?”
“It… it winked at me.”
There are times when you have to know Rosie, to understand her. I’ve been her friend for years and years now, and sometimes not even that helps. “The spider winked at you?”
“Yes. It winked!”
“Rosie, spiders can’t wink.”
“Tell that to this one, then! Oh, it was laughing at me, Dell, that hairy bugger was laughing at me! I threw a plate of steak at it. The plate broke, but the spider just laughed and ran over by the sink. So I swung at it with the broom but the broom caught the stack of clean dishes and those all came crashing down. Then it did a little dance over by the rolls, and there was no way I was sharing those rolls with any eight-legged little winking freak like him! No sir! So I swatted him with the broom over and over and, um, I suppose I might’ve broken a few things. Er. D’ya see it anywhere, do ya?”
All I can do is smile. This is how Rosie’s been forever. Not terrified of spiders, although she’s been like that since Uni, too. I mean, my good friend is about as clumsy as they come. Me talking about her usual grace earlier? That was a bit of wit on my part. Anyone else probably would’ve caught the little critter in our kitchen on the first try, or else scooped it up and tossed it outside. Rosie, on the other hand, just turned a simple bug hunt into an event that would be talked about around the town of Lakeshore for a month or better.
“Rosie, what are you doing here?”
She blinks at me in confusion. “I work here.”
“Yes, I know, but we decided you were going to take the day off, remember? Where’s your staff? Shouldn’t you have Brian or Scott here to help you?”
“Yes, I should,” she says miserably. She finally puts the ruined broom aside, looking at her handiwork all around her. “They’re both sick, though. This up and down weather has got everyone feeling a bit, well, under the weather. I should be home in bed my own self, I know. You’re right. Yesterday I had so much snot up in my sinuses I could barely breathe, but here I am, mak
ing things work. Loaded myself up with Ease-a-Cold. Works like a charm. I’m fine. Oh, hello.”
She’s looking past me now, at Jasmine. I hadn’t even realized my other friend had joined us. “Hi, Rosie!” she says, holding back a snicker. “I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to see much of you this trip. I’m glad you did come in to work, even if you’re sick and all the spiders in the world are trying to eat your brains!”
“Glory be, you haven’t changed a bit! Been a drunken dog’s age since I’ve seen ya, now hasn’t it? Come on over here, and give us a hug.”
“Rosie! I saw you yesterday, remember?” Jasmine chuckles as she walks across the toward Rosie.
Rosie looks perplexed by that, her face screws up into a frown. “You did?” Jasmine nods and Rosie just stares at her for a moment, then shrugs. “Well… of course you did now. I’m sure I don’t know where my head is.” I could see that Rosie’s smile was strained and I wasn’t one little bit convinced that she really did remember. “Oh, you haven’t changed a bit!” She pulls Jasmine into a bear hug.
“But we know you have,” Jasmine jokes with her as she pulls out of their hug. “You became a mother!”
“Oh, I certainly did. Put on more’n a few pounds betwixt then and now as well but that’s a story for another day! Come, let me show ya some new pics of the twins I printed off yesterday when I was home. Daniel and Angus are just the cutest little cherubs you ever will see.”
With a heavy sigh, I realize that setting the kitchen to rights is going to be left to me while my two old friends catch up with each other. I’d have to get one of the housekeepers to give me a hand… only no, because this was Saturday, and we didn’t keep housekeeping staff on during the day on weekends anymore. So. Just me, then. Rosie’s going to need the help, all right. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that I came home early, after all. Especially since we had a madman to leave behind in Blue Laguna, too. At least he won’t be here trying to kill me.
So, left off that mess, for this one I’m standing in. Fair trade, I guess.
Which reminds me. We still need to bring the note inside and put it somewhere safe. Best to wait until Kevin’s here, I believe.
Going over to collect the broom Rosie had set aside, I look for the dustpan to go with it. Had to be here somewhere.
I find it over on the counter next to the sink. Standing next to it, is the ghost of my other friend from our University days. The one who lost her life in one of the rooms upstairs. Jess Riley’s spirit was dressed up in her favorite printed t-shirt today, and those ripped jeans. Her hair was dyed black today. All in all, she looked exactly like she used to in University. Back when she would hang out with me and Jasmine and Rosie.
She’s watching those two over in the corner, looking at photos of Rosie’s twins.
A wistful expression crosses her face, full of emotions like heartache and deep sadness. She can’t join in the fun with our group. Her friends will never be able to see her again. Just me, and it’s not like she and I can go hang at the local bar for a pint or two. She can’t drink beer. She can’t do anything, actually, but hover and watch.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her. “Jess… you’ll always be my friend. Always.”
She turns that sad look on me, and her ghostly hand reaches out to pass right through my shoulder. She can touch me, and knock on walls, and push flower vases across a countertop, when she’s got a mind to. But, she can never really touch me, not like she used to when she was alive. She’ll be around when I need her, is what her eyes tell me now, but we’ll never have the kind of friendship we had in Uni. That part of our lives is over.
Funny, how you learn to speak the language of ghosts after a while.
I touch the unicorn on my necklace, and she smiles. I always keep this part of her with me, and I know it means a lot to her that she’ll never be forgotten.
Jess casts one last glance over to Rosie and Jasmine. They were still looking at photos of Rosie’s children, and it occurred to me that this was something else that Jess would never have a chance to experience. Having children, creating new life, and watching them grow. Her life was cut too short. I wish she could know the joy of having kids like me and Rosie have.
I can’t find the words I need to tell her all of this. But then she smiles at me, and I know she already knows.
Then she disappears.
I’m sad that Jess isn’t here—not really—but Rosie and Jasmine are, and I’m going to make sure I relish every moment I get to spend with them. Right after I clean up Rosie’s mess, that is.
Once I start, they jump in to help me out and the three of us make pretty short work of everything, even though Rosie had to keep stopping to do more cooking for the guests. That, and to check under everything for her winking spider. She’s a magician with a whisk and a skillet. Too bad she’s not also a master of watching her step. We found several more shattered plates to pick up before we were done.
Note to self, buy more plates.
In the middle of all that, I remembered to call my Kevin down at the police station. I couldn’t give him all the details over the phone, but then again, I didn’t have to. He knows when his mom is in trouble. He made sure I’d be all right for a bit here at the Inn while he finished up some things at the office, and then he would be on his way.
That’s my Kevin.
By the time the kitchen was back in order, he was pulling up out front in one of the two patrol cars Lakeshore’s department has. I told Jasmine to have some lunch with Rosie while I went out to meet him. My own empty stomach would have to wait.
He gave me a hug as soon as he saw me. He’s got a good amount of height on me, and built like a pro wrestler, and I’ve had more than one female guest remark on how well he fills out that uniform shirt and trousers. It doesn’t bother me that my son gets appreciated. Except when women start talking about his bum. That’s where I have to draw the line.
There’s a lot of me in Kevin, including those freckles across the bridge of his nose. His bristle-short hair is auburn, similar to my own color. His eyes are a darker shade of green, but you can see how he got those from me, too. His sister got her looks from her father, but Kevin was definitely mine.
“What’s this?” he asks, his voice a low growl as his fingertips touch the sensitive bruises around my neck.
“War wound,” I say, trying to be glib. “It’s what comes of having someone try to choke you with their bare hands.”
Rosie hadn’t noticed the marks from my attacker’s hand being around my neck, but she was caught up with the drama of trying to kill that spider, and then Jasmine and the twins’ photos. I knew Kevin would notice, though.
In his eyes is the unmistakable desire to hurt whoever hurt me. Made me feel good to see it. I wouldn’t mind taking a pound of flesh out of that guy, too, once we can find him.
“So let me get this straight,” he says, resting his hands on my shoulders. “My mom went on vacation for less than a day before trouble came knocking.”
“That’s not exactly what happened…”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Are ya back after less’n a day?”
“Well, sure, but…”
“Was there trouble?”
“Yes, like I said on the phone, but…”
“Somebody tried to kill ya for this note in the bottle, right?”
Stepping back to put my hands on my hips, I glare at him. “You know, you’re not too big to put over my knee.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure I am.”
That brought out a smile, because I have to admit he’s right. This kid can make me laugh even when things are going wrong all around me. I knew coming home to talk to him about all this was the right choice. He might not be able to solve the whole world’s problems but making me laugh when I’m down is a miracle almost as big.
“Look, Kevin. The cops over in Blue Laguna were about as useful as a glass hammer.” He looks at me slantways, but I
thought that was pretty accurate, considering. “No, I’m serious. What I need is a cop worth his salt who can help me and Jasmine figure this out.”
His expression turns serious. “I’m listening. Give me everything ya know, we’ll take it from there.”
“All right. The note looks like it talks about a treasure, and Orville McGowan—that’s the bloke who wrote the note in the first place—is rumored to have treasure hidden on one of the smaller islands somewhere. So here’s what I think. I think someone’s after all that money or jewels or coffee cans full of old pennies, and they think this final note of Orville’s is gonna lead them there. Someone knew what the bottle was. They knew there’d be a note inside, and they thought it would make them rich. It was enough of a chance for them to sneak their way into our hotel room, even with the lock on the door.”
He nods, the gears in his brain already turning. “Always did have a flair for putting clues together, didn’t ya? I swear that’s where I get it from. So. Let’s start with the obvious. This guy got into your room with the door locked. Any idea how he did that?”
“Well, I thought I knew,” I explain, trying to figure it out for the hundredth time. “I was sure it was the desk clerk at the hotel. This Zacron guy. He was staring at the bottle and I don’t have any doubt that he knew exactly what I had found. Plus, hotel clerks have keys to the rooms. It all fit.”
“Only, it wasn’t him?”
I shake my head with a frown. “No, apparently not. That much, the wonderfully unhelpful Officer Halloway did figure out.”
“So we’re looking for someone else with access to the rooms at that hotel. Why would someone risk committing murder to get at this treasure? Is it supposed to be that big?”
“I’m telling you, Kevin, the story of Orville McGowan is almost like a religion over in Blue Laguna. They’ve got a museum dedicated to him, and they’re keeping his old house like a shrine even though the only one still in it is…”
I hesitate to say the rest, but Kevin knows me, and he knows what I can do, and he accepts me like I am. So. No reason not to tell him who I found lurking about when me and Jasmine were there.