by K. J. Emrick
“I really don’t think that will be necessary,” I say drily. While I appreciate my son wanting to protect me, I’m a big girl. Been taking care of my own love life for a good long time now. Or, making a muck of my own love life is probably the right way to put it. “James is off doing whatever journalists do when they’ve got a hot tip. There was something he wanted to check out in East Timor. He was headed for Díli, and that’s the last I heard from him.”
Kevin scoffs. “Díli. Sounds like some sort of garnish. Like parsley. Or kale. I hate kale. You sure that’s a real place?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It might not have the flair of towns like Woop Woop, but it is a real place.”
“Here now,” he says in all seriousness. “Woop Woop’s a real place. I’ve been there. Well, been to what’s left of it, anyways. Never once been to anyplace called Díli, though. So ya haven’t heard a word from him since he left on this assignment? Not in four whole weeks”
“No, and I’m pretty sure if a man wants to keep a woman in his life he reaches out to her at least now and again to say hey, even if he’s onto the story of the century.”
Kevin doesn’t say anything to that. He just watches me take little bites out of my sandwich. I’ve pretty much lost my appetite, but I don’t want this lunch to be ruined just because I know I might be right. Things between me and James might just be over for good this time. It’s been a rocky sort of road the two of us have travelled, ups and downs and everything in between but four weeks without a word. Time to admit James isn’t ready to commit to a relationship.
Time moves on, after all. Did I mention that already?
When I look up again I notice that Kevin’s pushed his plate aside. He was trying to decide how to say what I’ve already decided, about James and me and life in general. Thankfully, before we go any further down that depressing rabbit hole, somebody interrupts.
“Hey there, Senior Sergeant.”
Someone was coming over to us from across the room, calling to my son above the noise of all these people talking. I recognized him straightaway. It would be hard not to notice Alfonse Calico, with his dark cocoa-powder complexion and his brilliant smile. I’m pretty sure if you look up ‘flamboyant’ in the dictionary, you’ll find one picture of Elton John, and another of our local celebrity, Alfonse Calico. He was gorgeous in that way that looked so good on some men, his skin toned and waxed and shown off for everyone to see with those blousy, open-front shirts he liked so much. He’d started perming his hair after his last album dropped. Wasn’t a good look for him in my opinion, but his fans—old and new—seemed to approve.
“Alfonse,” Kevin says, reaching out a hand. They shake, and Alfonse folds himself into a third seat at our table. “I thought you were going on tour, mate.”
Leaning an arm over the back of his chair, Alfonse threw his head back and sighed dramatically. “Oh, I know, but you have no idea what it’s like to try and coordinate a three-continent tour. The production company, the logistics people, the publication people, people who have people and then little minions on top of those people. It’s a bloody nightmare. I don’t know how I did it in my younger days.”
His group had been chart toppers back then, and now his star was on the rise once more. He was running the Thirsty Roo here in town now and making a decent name for that place. On top of that, he was married to the love of his life. He was happy, and I was happy for him. At the moment however, he didn’t look happy at all.
“So anyway,” Alfonse says with a flourish of one wrist, “we put the whole thing off until next month. We’ll be leaving on the tour then. Me and the husband both. For now, there’s things here in Lakeshore that need tending to. I was gonna come and find you later, Senior Sergeant, but since I saw you two in here, figured I’d run this by you now.”
Kevin shares a look with me, and then motions for Alfonse to continue.
“Well, see, here’s the thing. Seems one of my servers at the Thirsty Roo got herself into a spot of trouble. She needs some help. Thought of you straight off when she told me about it.”
“Always happy to help,” Kevin tells him. “That’s what your taxes pay for, after all.”
“I think you’re worth more than my share of taxes, Kevin. Seriously. You and all the officers in town do more for us than anyone realizes. So, can you come round and give a listen to her story?”
“Er, sure, I guess. I’m just finishing up lunch with my mom. Your server going to be at the Thirsty Roo in half an hour or so?”
“Mm-hmm. That she is. You two do remember that we serve a keen lunch menu at the Roo, don’t ya?”
He’s saying it in jest. I can tell by the little smirk on his face. Well, two can play at that game. “So does my Inn, but I can’t remember the last time you came over to have lunch at my place, either.”
Alfonse laughs out loud at that. “Touché, my friend, touché. That’s French. Beautiful language, that. Well, I’ll have to make a point of coming over to sample Rosie’s cuisine in your dining room very soon. In the meantime, I’ll tell Suzanna that you’ll be round to see her in a little bit, oui? Good. Thanks again, Senior Sergeant.”
“Whoa, wait a tick.” Kevin leans forward, his fingertips tapping against the table. “Suzanna? That’s who’s in trouble? You mean Suzanna Martin?”
“Sure do. She’s been working for me nearly three months now. Don’t know what I’d do without her. Er, why?”
Kevin’s expression went odd, like he was considering something. In the next second, he’s standing up and reaching for his wallet. “Think I need to cut this short, Mom. Sorry. Alfonse, let’s you and me walk over to your tavern now and have a word or two with Suzanna.”
“Well, sure, but what’s changed your mind, if you don’t mind my asking?”
I had to admit that I was curious, too. My son has got a level head, but he’s got a good sense for trouble, too. If he’s worried, now that he knows the name of Alfonse’s employee, then there must be a good reason for it.
“Suzanna came into the station last week,” Kevin explains, keeping his voice down so that only Alfonse and I can hear him. “She said she was worried over something and asked to speak to an officer. By the time someone went out to the lobby to talk to her she’d booked it. Gone like a ghost. Didn’t even leave her name, actually, but the officer working the front desk knew her, so he put it in the report.”
“She went to the police already?” Alfonse asked. Obviously, that was news to him. “Why didn’t you follow up with her when she just up and left?”
“Because,” Kevin says in that patient way of his, “we can’t force someone to accept our help. This isn’t my first go around with someone getting cold feet about talking to the police. We gave her a call, but she said whatever she was on about had taken care of itself. I’m guessing she just wasn’t ready to talk to us but obviously she needs help, or she wouldn’t have said anything to you, Alfonse.”
“And that’s where you come in?” I ask him with a wink.
“’Course. That’s who I am.” He hands me a couple of bills to pay for our lunch. “Here, my treat. We’ll have to come back here another time. Raincheck?”
“Naturally. Someone needs you. That’s more important than hanging out with me.”
“You’ll always be important to me.” Leaning over, he gives me a hug that warms my heart. “Come on, Alfonse. Let’s head down to the Roo.”
It’s good to know that this part of our family will always remain strong and constant. That’s my Kevin. I lucked out with this one, and no doubt.
Which reminds me. I’ve got things to do back at the Inn. My daughter may not be as open as her brother, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t need me just as much.
I take the time to finish my meal, of course, because it really is good. Not as good as the dishes Rosie comes up with for our guests to enjoy, but good enough to be sure. I think the décor of the place is even starting to grow on me. I suppose I’ll have to include this place as a must-see
for the tourists at the Inn.
Just as I’m finishing up my meal, a little head pops up at my elbow and a young girl with blonde hair tied into messy pigtails is looking at me. She’s only just tall enough to see over the lip of the table, her little fingers holding fast to the edge. For a moment I’m just too surprised to speak. Then I have the presence of mind to look about, because her parents must be close by. If they’re anywhere in here, I can’t find them.
“Hi there,” I say to her, resting my chin on one hand. “What’s your name?”
She doesn’t seem interested in answering me. Maybe she can’t talk, or maybe her mother told her not to speak to strangers but skipped the part about not hanging around their tables when they’re eating. Either way, she’s not about to tell me her name. Instead, she stares and points at the necklace I’m wearing. The one I always wear.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Reaching underneath the back of my hair, I unhook the little clasp at the end of the leather cord. I’m careful to put it back together again before I hand it across to the girl. This is one of the most precious things I own. “Here. A friend of mine gave me this way back when. Do you like it?”
With her eyes wide, the little girl nods her head enthusiastically. In her little fingers the charm on the end of the cord looks bigger than usual. It’s a wooden unicorn, carved by hand, polished smooth over the years by the touch of my hands. It was the last gift that Jess gave me before she was murdered at my Inn. On the plus side, if I can call it that, now her ghost is part of the growing entourage of spirits at my place. Oh, she gives the tourists quite the show when she starts banging on the walls. Nice to have her around still. She’ll always be my friend. Even in death.
The little girl smiles at the unicorn with its twisting little horn, and she makes it prance along the edge of the table, trailing its length of cord behind it. She can’t be more than six years old. In that pink dress she’s just as cute as a button. I take another look around, looking for her parents. It’s a little worrisome to me that she doesn’t have someone around somewhere keeping an eye on her…
“What are you doing out here?” The waitress Melanie is rushing around other tables to get to me now. For a brief moment I wondered if maybe I’d done something wrong, until I realize she’s not out here for me. She’s focused on the little girl standing here with me. “Anya, you know you can’t be out here with everyone while Mommy’s working. Come on, let’s get you into the back again. What’s this?”
The girl—Anya—lifts up the unicorn necklace for her mother to look at. Melanie takes it and turns it between her fingers. Then she looks at me.
“Sorry, Dell,” she says to me. “My daughter got bored waiting for me in the back, I guess. The owner’s okay with me bringing her here so long as she doesn’t come out where there’s customers. Got no babysitter today and, well, she knows better. This is your necklace, I take it?”
I accept it back from her, slipping it around my neck once more. “I was letting this little dear take a look at it. She’s not much of a talker but she sure seems to like unicorns.”
The smile that Melanie gives Anya is full of motherly love. “She’s a good girl, my Anya is. Just wish I could afford someone to watch her every day. My Mom usually plays babysitter, but she was busy today so, well. Here we are.”
“It’s fine, Melanie, really. No worries. I didn’t know you had a daughter. I guess,” I add with a chuckle, “I’m not as up-to-date with things here in town as I thought I was.”
“Oh nobody knows about Anya, really.” She pulls her daughter close to her in a sideways hug. “We keep mostly to ourselves. Been back in Lakeshore for a bit now but I don’t really have heaps of friends in town. The ones I had in high school have mostly moved on and those that haven’t, well, they don’t like to answer my calls.”
That’s kind of sad, but she says it with a little shrug like it’s just another day in the life. “What about Anya’s daddy?” I ask, knowing I’m probably pushing boundaries a bit. “Is he in town with you?”
“Yeah… no.” Her face sours and I see the way she glances down at her daughter before saying anything else. “Haven’t heard from that guy since shortly after Anya was born. Things got a little heated between us, sad to say. Tried to make a go of it, just the two of us, but Anya deserves better than I could give her out there. Came back home to Lakeshore so I could regroup and figure out the rest of my life. Well, our lives actually. Right, Anya?”
The little girl wraps her arms around her mother. “Right, Mommy.”
It was the first two words I’d heard Anya say. Even her voice was cute.
I kind of get the feeling Anya and her mother have talked about her father quite a bit. I also have the feeling neither of them holds a lot of love for the guy, whoever he is. Guess I’d been wrong bout Melanie moving back to Lakeshore because of the job market. She was back here because of a bad relationship. Plenty of those out there. Can’t blame any woman for wanting something better. Not just for her, but for her child as well.
“I need to get back to it,” Melanie tells me, taking Anya by the hand. “My boss can be a real tyrant when he’s angry and seeing me out here talking instead of slinging plates is going to make him—”
“Melanie!” snaps a voice from behind the checkout counter. The conversations in the room end, and all eyes turn that way. I’m guessing this is her boss, a bulky man in a plaid shirt with a wide face and bushy brows. He snaps a finger in Melanie’s direction and fires off a few choice words. “Told you before about your daughter being here during working hours. Get yourself back in the kitchen. Right now. Go on.”
“Yes sir, Mister Bronson sir,” Melanie says, her voice small. Her cheeks have gone red. Anya has her face buried in her mother’s apron, scared and trying to hide it. “I’ll be right there.”
“Now!” her boss snaps again.
Melanie shoots me an apologetic look, one that is part embarrassment and part… fear? Seems like it to me. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says straightaway, without much conviction. “Hope you enjoyed your meal. Come on, Anya.”
She keeps her face down to hide her expression as she steps off through the tables, following Mister Bronson through the door that leads to the kitchen. I know the look of someone who’s got too much to lose, and actually feels it slipping through her fingers. Melanie’s got more going on in her life than a precocious child in need of a babysitter. Makes me wonder what.
Then again, that might just be me looking for shadows on a sunny day. I shake my head at myself as I finish the last of my drink. There’s been so many times in my life that I’ve fallen into a mystery that needed solving, and now it’s like I’m expecting one to come my way every time I blink. Even the great Dell Powers isn’t a trouble magnet 24/7. I can have a normal meal, in a normal restaurant, in our decidedly not normal town, without it turning into the opening scene of a mystery novel.
Right?
Although… I can’t help looking over at the swinging door between here and the kitchen and wondering what’s going on back there. Melanie must be desperate for the work if she’s bringing Anya here with her. Didn’t she know anyone else in town, anyone at all, who could watch her daughter for the day?
I decide to ask her about it, first chance I get. Away from here, of course, because she’s already in enough hot water without me stopping her to talk about her life again. I know her mother, sort of, and maybe I can get myself invited around for a cuppa at some point. Just casually bring up the whole situation and see what’s what. Hey, there might not be some deadly mystery to solve there, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help a neighbor just the same.
Satisfied with that, I scoop up the money Kevin left me and head to the counter to pay for our meals. This little lunch of ours didn’t go at all how I had expected, but such is the life of Dell Powers.
Chapter 2
Every once in a while, a day comes along where I can honestly say something happened
that has never happened to me before. It’s not very often anymore, considering I’ve got a few years on me, but now and again something bizarre comes out of nowhere. Today’s one of those days.
On my way home to the Pine Lake Inn, right in front of me, I spy a penguin crossing the road.
I had to stop and stare, and then look around to see if anyone else was seeing this happening, but I was alone on the sidewalk. There are penguins in Tasmania, believe it or not. Contrary to popular belief they don’t all live down on the icebergs in Antarctica. Also contrary to popular belief, they don’t live with polar bears. The bears live at the North Pole. Penguins live in the south, and they come as far north as the tip of Africa, and the southernmost parts of South America, and most of Australia to boot. There’s a whole colony of fairy penguins over to the west of the country, and they make for a big tourist attraction. I’ve just never seen any here in Lakeshore. Until today.
Kind of reminds me of a joke from my childhood. Know why the penguin crossed the road?
Because the chicken made it look easy.
This one wasn’t a fairy penguin, however. It was seventy centimeters or so high. Black back and head, white belly, and orange patches on its cheeks and along its lower beak. A King Penguin, maybe. It waddles straight across Main Street, coming my way, stopping only once to look my way as if I was the most curious thing it had ever seen.
The feeling’s mutual.
On this side of the street the little guy looks this way, and then that way, and finally decides to keep waddling forward through some shrubs between two houses. I have no idea where he was going, but he certainly was in a hurry to get there. As much of a hurry as a penguin on dry land can manage, anyways.
I, on the other hand, am not in a hurry to get back to the Inn. Yes, Rosie needs my help today of all days, and yes it isn’t fair to let the rest of my staff handle things while I galivant about town with stray penguins, but I’m really not looking forward to the rest of my day.