Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “Weston and Harris will know,” Dorchester replied. “This is our best bet.”

  “I’ll fire him as my attorney,” I volunteered. I hated to set Rick up, but I couldn’t think of another way. I just hoped that he was cleared of wrongdoing and would listen to my explanation once it was all over.

  “Then he might get suspicious and refuse to speak to you,” Dorchester replied. “Let us go through the official channels and make sure our i’s are dotted, and t’s crossed. The last thing we want to do is let someone off on a technicality.”

  “Okay,” I said in frustration. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act like nothing is wrong when I meet with him to go over business tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I think you can dig deep and rely on your training for that,” Detective Wyatt told me. I decided not to remark on his comment.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked them.

  “Not at the moment,” Dorchester said. “We’ll be in touch soon.” They rose from their chairs and headed to the door.

  I called Detective Wyatt’s name before they could leave. “I think I was wrong about you, Detective.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first person, Silver,” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

  I sat in shock in my office for several minutes after they left. I knew there was a high probability that Nate knew his killer, but I wasn’t prepared for Rick Spizer to be that person. There had to be another explanation, and I was tempted to demand it from Rick, but I wouldn’t betray the detectives like that. I could tell that they didn’t trust me completely, but they had enough confidence to ask for my help. No matter how hard, I would follow through with the agreement I made with them.

  I pulled myself together and entered the bar area to have our impromptu meeting before the club opened. I was honestly surprised to see that the entire staff had shown up. Honestly, they’d been great to me since day one, which made the theft that much harder to swallow. The club looked like a completely different place with the bright overhead lights on instead of colored lights and disco balls. It was so quiet without all the loud music thumping that I could hear the slapping of the soles of my dress shoes against the floor.

  “Thank you all for coming,” I told them. I made eye contact with each of them to gauge their reaction. I saw respect, lust, and even annoyance, but I didn’t see guilt or fear. On the one hand, it was a good thing because I didn’t want any of them to be guilty of stealing. I wanted it to be a trainable incident that could be avoided in the future. On the other hand, I knew better than to hold my breath. If there were a thief amidst my staff, I would find them. Laying out all my cards on the table wasn’t the way to go about it. I was better off to act like it was an honest mistake and watch to see what happened. “I want to go through the process of properly entering the liquor sales into the system. I understand that it’s still a new process for you, so I’m not here to beat anyone up. I just want to make sure that everyone is following the same procedure.”

  I spent half an hour going through the process with the bartenders, wait staff, and managers. “No one is exempt from using this method,” I reminded them. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” they all said in unison.

  “Let’s all have a good night,” I told them then returned to my office.

  I watched their body language through the monitors as they finished getting the club ready to open. It was obvious from our meeting that each of them knew the system well, which meant that I either had a lazy employee or a thief. I would tolerate neither in my club. I released a sigh of frustration and wished for a millionth time that there was some type of establishment like Voodoo in the Queen City so I could blow off steam and lose myself, if only for a short time.

  After running into Josh for the second time, I realized two things. I missed laughter almost as much as I missed my husband, and I liked the idea of writing a book about my psychic experiences more than I originally thought. I also realized that I missed the human interaction with people outside of solving a cold case. I had Memphis, of course, but he was a few thousand miles away, and I realized that I wanted to share a meal with someone while we chatted. Josh offered me the opportunity, but I wasn’t sure I should accept. I didn’t want him to offer his friendship out of pity; I wanted to be… wanted.

  I needed to have a purpose in life again—one that I could grasp. I just didn’t believe that I was meant to travel around the country and help solve missing person and cold cases for the rest of my life. I’d lived a purpose-driven life up until the moment my world ended when River died. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do, where I was supposed to go, and who was supposed to be with me until that fateful day in February. After I lost River, the life I knew no longer felt right to me. I tried going through the motions of the corporate America I’d lived and breathed, but I was miserable. My expensive silk tie felt more like a noose, and the fine material of my custom-tailored shirts and suits made my skin itch like I was allergic to them.

  My family thought I’d lost my mind when I walked away from the whiskey empire my family started more than two hundred years ago in Ireland. In fact, my mother warned me that I had to see a psychiatrist or she’d block my access to my trust fund. And she would’ve rather seen me homeless than compromise, but my grandfather—her father-in-law—overruled her decision. Connor Whelan might’ve been knocking on eighty years old, but his mind was as sharp as ever, and I was still his favorite person in the world. It also helped that he disliked my mother from the moment they’d met. I was the only reason my granddad tolerated her presence after my father died in a small engine plane crash with his mistress. I knew that Granddad wanted me to resume my rightful spot in his company, but I knew in my heart that I never would.

  I needed to forge my own path and put down roots where I wanted them. I wasn’t sure that writing books and living in Blissville were the long-term answers, but it felt right to me for that moment in time. Acknowledging that much at least gave me a sense of peace and a jolt of determination that had been sorely lacking in my life. If I was going to make a nest in Blissville, then I needed to make the rental house feel more like home. I needed vibrant colors, decorations, and wall art. I could’ve hired someone to ship the things I bought with River, but I could almost hear him whispering, “New life equals new stuff, my love.” I decided to liven up the space with a more vibrant paint scheme, and I was lucky that my landlord didn’t care. He even suggested the name of a painter who could do the work for me, but I’d always liked working with my hands. Once the new color scheme settled, I could pick out art and decorations that suited my new life.

  I underestimated how much paint supplies to buy and had to make a quick dash to Harry’s Hardware in the middle of a project one afternoon. I was in a hurry to get back home and didn’t pay attention when I exited the aisle with the items I needed. I nearly plowed into Gabe from next door. I clutched my chest with my free hand and smiled sheepishly at him.

  “I’m sorry, Gabe. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” A husband and wife walked by us and gave me the once-over. Oh, the downside of being the new guy in town.

  “No problem, Emory. How’s it going?” Gabe asked me. “Are you getting settled in okay?”

  “It’s going to be an adjustment,” I admitted, “but Josh’s cookies and thoughtful invitation made me feel welcome.”

  “Josh? My Josh?” Gabe asked in surprise. “An invitation to what?”

  “Um, dinner,” I replied uneasily. “On Sunday.”

  “Sunday dinner? This Sunday, as in Easter?” Gabe raised his eyebrows.

  “Is that a problem, Gabe? I don’t want to cause any trouble,” I said, backing up slowly. The last thing I wanted to do was create a problem between the happy couple. Gabe snapped out of his surprise and offered me a friendly smile.

  “No, there’s no problem,” he said. “It’s just that Josh’s Sunday dinners are very sacred. They’re very important to him, which means
that you’ve made a good impression on him.” I figured it was closer to that adage that said you should keep your friends close and enemies closer. Josh had thawed a bit toward me, but he was still wary. Gabe wasn’t though, and it made me curious. Usually, law enforcement officers typically didn’t trust me as far as they could throw me.

  “I think it’s more like pity, Gabe, but I appreciate what you said. If you’re sure it won’t be a problem…”

  “You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner, Emory. I mean that.” Before Gabe could say anything else, a short, older lady, who introduced herself as Mrs. Miller from two doors down, stopped by to welcome me to town. It was obvious she wanted to chat, so Gabe excused himself. “I’ll see you Sunday,” Gabe tossed over his shoulder as he walked away like my attendance was a given.

  My quick trip to the hardware store turned out to be the exact opposite because Mrs. Miller thought the best way to welcome me to the neighborhood was to tell me all about her family. I wondered what possessed her to think a stranger would want to know the names of all her children, their spouses, and her grandchildren, where they went to school, and where they worked. Was that how small town USA worked? I quickly realized she had a master plan all along when she mentioned her youngest granddaughter, Sabrina, who happened to be single.

  “Tell me, dear,” Mrs. Miller said, leaning toward me, “are you single?”

  I fought the urge to blow out a frustrated sigh. Technically, I was a single man, but River took my heart with him to his watery grave. I never wanted to get it back because I never planned to love again. That was information I only told the people closest to me, not a complete stranger. “I’m a widower,” I said. I saw the hopeful gleam in her eyes, and it seemed that widower equaled a yes. I knew I had to act fast, so I told her as much of the truth as I was willing to share. “I’m nowhere close to being ready to date again, Mrs. Miller.”

  “Oh, dear, I’m truly sorry for your loss,” she said kindly. “I’ll pray for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, not sure how else to respond. It wasn’t that no one said that to me before, but again, it was someone who knew me well—or at least longer than five minutes. I held up my basket with paint supplies. “I hate to run, but I need to get back to my project. I have just a quarter of the living room left to finish.”

  “Oh, don’t you apologize to me.” Mrs. Miller waved the idea away. “Thank you for entertaining a silly old woman.”

  I looked around the hardware store then back at her. “What old woman?” I playfully winked at Mrs. Miller before I headed to the register, and she giggled. Ah, I still had a little charm left in me.

  “What did you do today?” Memphis asked when he phoned later that evening. For once I did something besides read a book.

  “Painted the living room,” I answered.

  “You did?” Memphis asked in surprise. “Does that mean you’re staying there?” I couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad, but I thought I detected a hint of both. Was he happy that I seemed to be moving forward with my life, but sad that it was far away from him? That was honestly how I felt about the situation.

  “For now,” I replied because that was the only truth I knew. “I looked up some paint ideas on Pinterest, and I like the finished look.” I designated one wall as the accent wall and painted it a charcoal-gray color, which looked fabulous behind my white leather couch. I painted the remaining three walls a smoky blue-gray color that I thought was serene and peaceful. “Tomorrow, I’ll shop for artwork.”

  “I’m happy for you, Em.” Memphis got quiet, and I knew what he was going to ask next, so I saved him the hassle.

  “I called her, but she was too busy to talk to her only son,” I told him. “She didn’t attempt to call me back either so she either tested me to see if I would call or whatever she’d wanted to say to me was no longer relevant. Either way, I’ve called Audrey McIntire-Whelan for the last time.” I released a frustrated breath. “Besides, your mom was more of a mother to me than my own. I don’t know where I’d be in life without those summers spent at your house, Memphis.”

  Our mothers were sisters, but you’d never know it by looking at them or talking to them. They looked nothing alike, and their personalities were as different as night and day. My aunt Karen married her high school sweetheart and lived a happy middle-class life filled with love and laughter. Middle of the road had never sat well with Audrey McIntire, so she used her looks to enter beauty pageants and earn college scholarship money that put her in the vicinity of some of the wealthiest men in America. She snagged one of them when she met my father, but I knew for a fact her life didn’t turn out close to what she’d planned. The summers I spent with Aunt Karen, Uncle Scott, Memphis, and his little sister, Marcy, were the best times in my life.

  When I sent a Mother’s Day card or flowers, it was to my aunt Karen, not my incubator. Just thinking about my mother soured my mood. I needed to dispell the gloom that settled over me, so I changed the subject. “Well, it’s been a few days since you and Caleb broke up, so can I assume you’ve met someone else by now?”

  “Hardy har har,” Memphis replied sarcastically. I could practically hear his eyes rolling through our phone connection. But I could also tell I was right.

  “What’s his name?” I asked, pressing for more information.

  “It’s not what you think,” Memphis replied.

  “It never is,” I remarked. “So, what’s the deal? Let me live vicariously through you.”

  “Em, you have a mirror. You know damn well that you’re a good-looking guy,” Memphis countered. “Don’t even act like you’re some ugly codger who couldn’t get a date.”

  I knew that people found me attractive, but that never mattered to me. I never wanted to fuck around or pick up strange men; I wanted someone to call my own. For nine months out of every year, I was the loneliest person in the world. I was nothing more than a pawn used in a power play between parents who hated each other. In fact, the only thing they could agree on was their disappointment in me. I wanted someone to love me for me, and I found that with River.

  I chose to ignore Memphis’s remark and said, “Tell me about your night.”

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” he replied.

  “Ha! I knew it,” I said gleefully. “Since when don’t you kiss and tell?” I countered. He loved to brag about his conquests. “This guy must be special to you.”

  “It was one date,” Memphis said dryly. “I’m hardly ready to send out wedding invitations.” I knew that I wanted to marry River on our first date, so I didn’t think it was that far out of the realm of possibility. “But yeah, it felt special to me.”

  “I hope everything works out for you,” I told my cousin. He was an amazing person with a kind heart and whimsical spirit, who often fell for the bad boys. He wanted to help them, but they didn’t always want his help.

  “Thanks, Em. I’d ask you for hints about my future, but you don’t do parlor tricks,” Memphis said.

  The truth was, I had no clue how to tap into my ability to see what else I could do and had no desire to change that. “Would you want to know?” I asked.

  “No,” Memphis replied. “Well, unless he was a serial killer and you could prevent my painful, torturous death.”

  “That’s a given,” I replied. “Nothing else though? You wouldn’t want me to spare you the pain of heartbreak?”

  “Would you have wanted that with River?” Memphis asked. “Would you have walked away from River to avoid heartache or would you have loved him anyway?”

  “Walking away from River was never an option,” I softly said into the phone. I wouldn’t trade a single second of the time I had with my husband for the promise of a pain-free future. Not knowing River’s love, not hearing his laughter, and not seeing his eyes light up when I walked into a room would’ve been the bigger tragedy.

  “I wouldn’t want the knowledge of the future to rob me of my present either,” Memphis said. “Besides, I think we both kno
w how this is going to end.”

  “Someday the right guy is going to come along,” I told him.

  “Yeah, but I’ll ignore him for a tall, dark, and dickhead.” Memphis’s sardonic laughter brought a smile to my face.

  “Oh, I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised,” I said, trying to sound mysterious and intriguing.

  “Do you know something?” Memphis asked, taking the bait.

  “You just told me that you never wanted to know your future events unless it involved saving you from a serial killer,” I reminded him. “I’m pretty sure ‘pleasantly surprised’ isn’t a phrase I would use if you got nabbed by a serial killer.”

  “You’re an asshole, Emory. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Goodbye, Memphis,” I said into the phone before hanging up.

  I smiled up at my bedroom ceiling because I loved riling him up. I reached for the remote and unmuted the sound of the college basketball tournament game I was watching before Memphis called me. The lead had shifted to the underdog at some point during our conversation, and I suddenly found the game a lot more exciting. I rarely watched television in bed anymore, but the living room walls were still wet.

  I fell asleep before the game was over, but it was hard to be upset about not knowing who won the game because River finally returned to me in my sleep. I was lying on my right side in the center of my bed, and he spooned up behind me like old times. I released a long sigh of relief because I never thought I’d feel the heat of his body again. River raised his right arm up and gripped my hand where it rested on the pillow while he moved my long hair off my neck with his left.

  “You’ve been gone for so long,” I whispered into the night.

  River didn’t say anything; he used his lips to communicate by kissing the back of my neck, and it had my dick hard as a spike instantly. River slid his left hand down to cup the back of my thigh on my left leg and pushed forward so that it angled up, giving him access to my cock, balls, and ass. As thrilling as it felt to have his hands on my body again, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up for a reason other than excitement, but my brain was too fogged with lust to figure out the cause for my unease.