by Leona Fox
“I guess I've always been an old soul. Sometimes it feels like I've lived an entire lifetime. It made it hard at school, you know. I never could talk to my classmates properly. It got to be pretty lonely, but I always had my artwork.”
“That's the way it is sometimes, unfortunately. The reason why I came here today is because I have an offer for you. Back when I was your age I didn't have anyone to encourage me. It felt as though I was all alone in the big wide world, and it wasn't a good feeling at all. I had no idea what I was doing or how to go about making this into a career. So I'd like to be a mentor for you, if you'd be willing. I think we could learn from each other.”
It only took a matter of seconds for Mickey to agree, although he was a little flustered. They made arrangements for their first session and Kelly left him to paint in peace, although his gaze lingered on her while she walked away. On her way back she bumped into Bob Downes, a middle-aged man with whom she had been acquainted for a while. They always enjoyed some cheeky banter. Yet, on this occasion, Kelly could not involve herself in such things.
“Now, Bob. Come on, you know I'm a married woman now,” she said, flashing him her ring.
“I know, but that doesn't mean you can't have a bit of fun. It's only harmless flirting, after all. Besides, I won't tell him if you won't,” he said, winking at her. Kelly raised her eyebrows.
“Bob, you are a naughty man.”
“You wouldn't have me any other way. Come on, Kelly. You know you enjoy it just as much as I do. We're just a couple of friends mucking about.”
“Bob,” she said, her expression turning serious, “I think it's best if we just keep things cordial between us. I'm married now and I'm very much in love. Please respect that. I'm sure you can find someone else to enjoy flirting with.” She continued walking, not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward than it already was.
“Yeah, but there isn't anyone quite like you,” she heard Bob say as she walked away from him, although she did not turn to see how his face glowered.
She had a reputation among the women of the town as being rather...free with her body. Nothing could have been further from the truth and she always had resented the accusing stares and rumor-mongering. It just so happened she was friendly and she had an ineffable quality to which men responded, and while she was single there had been no harm in a little playful flirting now and then. But ever since she had been with Matthew she had put a stop to that, and she hoped being married made people see her in a different light.
A few days later, Ellen still was puzzling over the riddle when Andy came into the cafe, shaking his head. Apparently there had been a theft in an antique store. When she asked why he looked so bothered he furrowed his brow.
“It's the damnedest thing, the owners reported it stolen but they just called me to say that it had been returned!”
“Maybe the thief had a change of heart,” Ellen said.
“Maybe, or maybe it wasn't as valuable as they first thought.”
“What was it they stole?”
“Oh, some old watch. It didn't look that fancy anyway. I don't know why anyone would have taken it in the first place.”
“That's it,” Ellen said, her eyes widening, “a timepiece! We have to get over there now.”
Chapter 3
The two of them raced to the antique store, which was operated by an elderly couple. They seemed surprised to see Andy and Ellen since, as far as they were concerned, everything was fine. Ellen hadn't had a chance to explain things properly to Andy, she only had mentioned it had something to do with riddles, but he long ago had learned to trust and listen to her, so he followed dutifully and placated the owners as Ellen invaded the shop and went straight to the stolen watch.
It was an old thing with a leather strap and scratched metal. The face was cloudy and it evidently had been through a lot. Ellen turned the watch over and began prying away the back,, which brought much consternation to the owners, and Andy had to try doubly hard to keep them calm. When the back snapped off Ellen exclaimed in triumph as a piece of paper fell out.
“Timepiece! It was right there in the clue,” she said, and quickly got to work on the second one.
Andy joined her and had to stop her in her tracks as he needed an explanation. Ellen rolled her eyes and spoke quickly, words tumbling out of her mouth in a rapid torrent. It was only because he was so used to her that he was able to understand what she was saying. The owners, however, were completely lost. When she had finished her explanation she turned back to the clue and read what it said.
'To see the world as you do, I look through his eyes. I see the truth, when will you see me?'
“I hate this kind of thing,” Andy said, placing his hands on his hips.
“I think it's fascinating. There is definitely a sense of inevitably about what he's writing, as though it's a foregone conclusion that Kelly will see.”
“But whose eyes are they talking about, Matthew's?”
“That wouldn't let them see the world as Kelly sees it though,” she said, and began chewing her lip as she paced across the floor.
After a few moments the store owners interrupted. Andy and Ellen made their way back to the cafe. When she returned she went straight to a table and stared at the clue. Scampy came up to her, but she looked at him apologetically.
“I'm sorry boy, but you can't help with this one,” she said.
Scampy whimpered and buried his face in his paws. Andy brought over a couple of drinks and sat beside her. For a long time, the two of them discussed various theories and looked at each meaning of the word.
“In the first clue they put time and piece underneath each other. There could be something similar here,” Ellen suggested, but when they looked at it more closely they couldn't see any link between the words.
“It strikes me as gibberish. If this person wants Kelly so badly then why don't they just come out and say it?”
“Because it's a game. Whomever it is wants to prove to Kelly that they're worthy of her, and my guess is they want it to be this grand story. They probably think what they're doing is romantic.”
“But if it's all directed at her then why are we the ones who should be solving these clues? What if there's something that's specific to Kelly?”
“Do you really expect me to go tell my best friend who has just gotten married that someone has been leaving riddles for her? I want her to enjoy her first few days of marriage. Besides, right now this person has admired her from afar. He hasn't made any moves toward her that could be dangerous. So I'm hoping we can solve these and find him before Kelly even has to know about it.”
“Then we'd better get to work,” Andy said, and they resumed studying the clue.
Completely unaware of what was happening at the cafe, Kelly instead was embarking on her new role as a mentor. She had conferred with Matthew if she had time to take on a protégé right now, and he said she would have to wait a little longer for their honeymoon as he was waiting for a particular date. This piqued her curiosity even more, but still he would not tell her. She was glad she had recruited Mickey to be her protégé as it gave her something to focus on. Matthew was at work when Mickey arrived. Kelly welcomed him in, beaming widely.
“I'm looking forward to getting started,” she said as she led him through to the studio.
She was wearing loose clothes, which she always did when she was painting as she said it helped her feel more free. Now that they were in an enclosed space it was clear that Mickey was flustered by her presence, and this meant they were off to a slow start. Mickey's hand was trembling, and when she reached out to steady it with her own it became even worse. Kelly decided to take a different track and suggested they both paint, and while they did so she engaged him in conversation to try finding out more about him. One of the first questions, even though she felt sure she knew the answer, was if he had a girlfriend.
The response, when it came, was rather awkward. “I, um, no, no, I don't but that's...you know
what it's like. I find it hard to talk to people and now that school is over it just...it's one of those things that has passed me by.”
“It'll happen in time,” Kelly said. “You've got one thing that a lot of people lack – talent. Eventually someone will see that and they'll appreciate you. You've got all the time in the world anyway. I think a lot happens to people too young. Take the more methodical approach, you'll be better off for it.”
“Honestly,” he said, after pausing a few moments, “I've never felt comfortable talking with people my own age. I think I've always been lost in the wrong time.”
“I think a lot of people your age feel that way. You're still feeling your way through life, it'll take you some time to discover who you're going to be.”
They continued talking and Kelly found him to be an intelligent, perceptive young man who was sure to have a bright future in whatever endeavor he chose. When she told him this, she also expressed admiration for his talent and his eyes lit up, shining under the glow of her praise. He thanked her profusely. As she went back to painting he cast surreptitious glances towards her, smiling secretly to himself, his mind alive with wild dreams of two people worlds apart, bound by a mutual appreciation of talent. Sometimes she caught him looking at her and she smiled back, and this made him feel lighter than air.
Ellen and Andy had been poring over the riddle for a long time when suddenly Ellen’s eyes fixated on the word 'truth'. They had looked at each word individually and now she was concerned with this one.
“But what truth does Kelly have?” she asked aloud.
“Love? That is the greatest truth of all,” Andy said.
“No, that's art,” she replied offhandedly, then their eyes locked. “It has to be something to do with her paintings.”
Recently, in honor of her marriage, the local art gallery had hung up a number of Kelly's works for display. However, there wasn't anything to suggest they had been disturbed.
“There has to be something here,” Ellen said, and the two of them walked around the gallery to look for any sign of wrongdoing.
Andy came to another of Kelly's paintings, or at least one that looked like hers. When they looked at the plaque next to the painting they saw the name of a different artist, a male artist.
“This must have been what the riddle meant when it said look through his eyes to see the world as she does. Maybe seeing him means that he has something in common with these pictures.”
“Or the name of the artist...Javier Calvelo, well, if there is someone with that name he should be easy to trace.”
However, after some searching they found there was nobody by that name in East Pender, and in fact that artist never had left his native country. It made the mystery all the more intriguing and since there was no riddle they wondered if that was the end of it, which struck them as rather abrupt. Ellen returned to the cafe.
By this point, her interview had been published in the paper so a few people were coming up to her and congratulating her. She thanked them graciously but she had other things on her mind, for she was convinced things wouldn't end so easily and that another riddle would be forthcoming. She was lost in thought when a regular customer, Edward Carrey, came up to the bar. He had to clear his throat multiple times before Ellen was brought back to reality. The two of them always had enjoyed a good rapport, although mostly they only chit-chatted a little bit rather than speaking of anything substantial. It was the same on this occasion because she was far too distracted. Edward didn't seem to mind, though. He simply patted Scampy on the head and walked away. It was much the same for anyone else who tried to talk to Ellen that day.
Chapter 4
To try clearing her head, and also to work off all the food she had eaten at the wedding, Ellen was enjoying a morning run in the crisp, fresh air. She always enjoyed these times. All through her life she had been an early riser (even when she was a teenager), and she appreciated it because she was able to enjoy the town before most people awoke. It was a special feeling and made her feel serene inside. Everything was peaceful and calm, and it was all rather wonderful. Scampy dutifully ran beside her, tongue lolling out. Occasionally she would have to slow so his little legs could catch up with her.
Taking her usual route, she ran through the park and around the outskirts of town, running parallel with the Mississippi that gushed through the town, the clear blue water flowing freely. Her feet pounded on the ground as she turned onto Main Street, and carried on running until she heard voices, a great many of them. She was surprised for a moment, which soon vanished when she snapped her fingers and remembered what day it was, the farmers market. In all the excitement of the wedding and the intrigue of the riddles she was beginning to lose track of the days, or perhaps that was simply a sign of getting old.
Her pace slowed as she walked through the market and examined the stalls. The smells of fruit and vegetables made her stomach growl, as did the sight of slabs of meat.
“Ellen!” a deep voice called out.
She spun to see Jonathan and Ryan Arnott. The two farmers waved to her and she walked over happily. Jonathan, the older man, was looking much healthier than the last time she had seen him. It seemed as though the new medication was working, and Ryan, his son, looked much less troubled. On his face he wore a silly grin, and she imagined this was due to the young lady he had been courting.
They engaged in some small talk before she moved on and, since she was at the market, decided to get some supplies for the cafe. She did not have much money on her but still managed to get a trial sample of some new coffee and some other interesting-looking snacks. She always liked having a few unusual things available to keep things interesting and to give people a surprise when they came in. She had to order Scampy to heel, though. In environments such as this he was liable to get excited and run off, especially when there was such a vivid smell of meat in the air. He barked a few times and she could see how excitable he was getting.
“Time to get you home,” she said, and whistled.
He jumped to attention and followed her back, although his nose did twitch, unable to ignore all the delicious smells that wavered through the morning air. However just as she was about to leave she turned to look back at the market and realized that it seemed familiar. Indeed, it was almost the exact same scene as the painting they had found in the gallery. Ellen screwed up her face and moved back to the market, sure that it wasn't a coincidence. Scampy looked at her quizzically as she went back the way from which they just had come.
She thought back to the painting and closed her eyes, relaying the image over what she was seeing in reality, seeing the similarities and the differences. It was almost exactly the same, as though Javier had managed to peer beyond the veil of space and time and see into East Pender. Although there was one difference -- there was a mailbox to the right, which wasn't in Javier's painting.
Drawn by her instinct, Ellen walked toward the mailbox with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, looking around for any sign of someone watching her, but of course there was not. She came to the mailbox and saw there was another note taped to the back. She ripped it off and took it straight home, calling Andy as she did so.
When Andy arrived Ellen was just getting out of the shower. The note was sitting unopened on the table.
“You haven't read it yet?” he asked in a surprised tone.
“We're working the case together,” she said.
Andy walked over to the table and tore open the note. He read it, shook his head, and then threw it toward Ellen. The note twisted in the air and landed just in front of her.
“I can't deal with these things. They're too obtuse for me,” Andy said, frustrated.
“I thought you would have liked these sorts of things. You must have had more than a few things like this show up, especially in the city with all those crazy people.”
“I did, and I still hated them then. Luckily then I had a whole department and specialists to take care of them. Now I only ha
ve, well, you.”
“You always say the sweetest things,” Ellen said, batting her eyes. Andy laughed.
“But still, I really don't like these things. What I need is evidence, and from that I can work through the case in a logical progression.”
“So let's do that,” she said, and placed the note, still unread, back on the table.
“You don't even want to read it?” he asked incredulously.
“Of course I do, but let's try using some logic first, see if we can't put some kind of method to this madness.” They pulled out chairs and sat opposite each other.
“Whomever is writing these notes thinks of themselves as a romantic, a poet. They think that this is destined to be,” Ellen said.
“And so far all they've done is steal a clock, then returned it. They haven't even been leaving these notes in Kelly's home. Are you sure we're not just making more of this than it is? It's probably some sad lonely person living out a fantasy.”
“They stole a picture.”
“What?”
“From the wedding. There was a picture of me and Kelly by the presents. It was gone.”
“Why didn't you tell me this before?”
“I didn't even think of it until now...there's clearly an obsession with Kelly at work here. It can only be a matter of time before it turns dangerous and we have to figure out who is writing these letters before it gets to that stage.”
“Are you sure you don't want to tell Kelly? I think she'd want to know,” Andy said, his tone concerned.
“I'm sure she would, but no. Let's just let her live as normal a life as possible. She'll be going on her honeymoon soon and she shouldn't have to worry about anything else. We can work it out before it ever gets to that stage.”
“I'm glad one of us has faith. I think it's time to read this clue,” Andy said.
He pushed it toward Ellen, who reached out and opened it. She puffed out her cheeks as she read the words. Again there were just a few lines written on the paper. Ellen read it aloud to Andy, who had a thoughtful look on his face.