Chartreux Shock

by Katherine Hayton

  “He’d never do drugs,” Adelaide said in a firm voice. “Fletcher’s too fixated on getting his degree that he’d never risk it all on something as stupid as that.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” Marjorie pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. With the new information pouring out of this unexpected source, she wasn’t sure what the next best step was.

  “We should go to the police,” she decided aloud, glancing at Adelaide and feeling relief the younger woman was nodding. “First off, if they’ve been questioning everyone as you say, they might know where he’s hiding out. Second, if they haven’t heard from him either, I’d say it’s time we report Fletcher missing.”

  “Missing?”

  Marjorie gave a firm nod. “It’s the right thing to do. Unless you know how to contact Fletcher’s family?”

  Adelaide shook her head glumly. “I’m not even sure he has any.”

  Marjorie tried not to compare the young couple’s relationship with her own fledgling romance with Braden. By the end of the first week, they not only knew about their family members but had their life stories and favourite anecdotes down pat.

  “Come on,” she said, touching the back of Adelaide’s elbow to propel her forward. “Your car or mine?”

  Marjorie hadn’t seen the constable standing behind the police station counter before. It gave her second thoughts until she remembered Regina’s complaint about the ‘foreigners’ taking over.

  “Hey,” she said with a forced smile. “I’d like to report a missing person.”

  “Who’s that then?” the man asked, and she bent forward to read his name tag. Sutton.

  “It’s a friend of mine, Fletcher Bryne. Nobody’s seen him since Wednesday.”

  PC Sutton turned to his computer, typing in something and staring hard at the screen. “Family?”

  “You mean Fletcher’s family?” Marjorie qualified, then shook her head when Sutton nodded. “I don’t know.”

  “Close then, were you?”

  Regina walked into the office through a side door and read the situation in about three-quarters of a second. “Why don’t you do the prisoner checks?” she suggested, moving up to the counter. “And I’ll handle this complaint.”

  “It’s not a complaint,” Sutton said.

  “Not yet,” Regina countered, shoving herself into position so the officer had no choice but to leave.

  “Thanks for that,” Marjorie said, feeling a flush of gratitude for her old friend. “I don’t think he’s enjoying his time here.”

  “Yeah, he’s got a few troubles on his mind,” Regina said with a wink. “None of which I could tell a layperson, such as speaking out of turn during an interview and being demoted to office duties until he relearns his place.”

  Marjorie laughed, then stopped when she turned to beckon Adelaide forward. “This is Fletcher’s girlfriend, and she hasn’t seen him either. We’re both worried.”

  “Well, follow me and we’ll go into a quiet room where you can gather your thoughts. I think there’s an interview room spare. We’ve quietened down again finally.”

  They followed Regina through a short corridor and into a windowless room. The air conditioning unit made a ticking sound, like it was counting down the time to a complete breakdown. Still, it was nicer than standing at the front desk where anybody might wander past.

  “Now, what was your name again?” Regina asked Adelaide, using a manual form instead of the computer. “Can you spell it?”

  When she’d written their details, the officer got back to Fletcher’s family again. “If you don’t know, it’s okay, but didn’t he ever mention anybody to you?”

  Marjorie shook her head, aware of how shallow their conversations had been. Adelaide frowned at the table, pressing a finger hard against the veneer until the tip turned white.

  “A brother?” she finally said, as though asking a question. “I think Fletcher might’ve mentioned how his parents always liked his brother better.”

  “And his parents are still alive?”

  “I guess.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “He’s a student,” Marjorie said when Adelaide fell silent. “Fletcher’s completing a degree through a distance learning program at the university.”

  “Massey,” Adelaide said, stirring into action again. “He’s studying Philosophy.” She gave a small snort. “He said he’s studying hard to make sure when he graduates, he’ll be unemployable in his chosen field.”

  Regina laughed and nodded, scribbling a few more notes. Adelaide gave her information about Fletcher’s social network accounts and phone numbers while Marjorie handed across her phone, which had a recent photograph of him playing with Houdini.

  “We’ve got enough to follow up on,” Regina said as they came to a close, “but if there’s anything else you think of, let me know. Every bit of information, no matter how small, can help in these cases.”

  “What will happen now?” Adelaide asked, picking at her fingernails. “Should we wait here?”

  “You go home, and we’ll make inquiries.”

  “Most people turn up safe and sound, don’t they?” Marjorie asked, hoping to reassure the nervous young woman beside her.

  “Many do but until I get started, we won’t know anything.” Regina got half up from her seat, then sat down again. “I must warn you that if we find Fletcher and he’s safe and sound, that’s the end for us.”

  “What do you mean?” Adelaide asked in a breathy whisper.

  “I mean, he’s an adult and if he doesn’t want to be in contact with either of you again, we can’t make him. It may not be the case,” she said, raising a palm to stop Adelaide’s protestations, “but it’s a possibility.”

  “That’s fine.” Marjorie stood up and nudged the woman’s shoulder until she did too. “Our main priority is to make sure he’s safe. Once we both know that, he can do what he likes.”

  Adelaide looked like she wanted to protest against the statement, but Marjorie pulled her out of the station before she could say anything, mouthing a thank you at Regina over her shoulder.

  Chapter Five

  After seeing Adelaide home, Marjorie dropped by Braden’s place to check if he was in the mood for company. Although they’d now seen each other socially for a month or more, their relationship hadn’t progressed.

  Sometimes, Marjorie wanted to grab the man by the lapels and press her lips against his, in case he didn’t know that was what she wanted. Other times, it felt better and more companionable just to keep the status quo.

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked once her knocking cajoled him away from a computer game. His hair was flattened in a crease on top of his head where headphones had been sitting, possibly for hours.

  “I’d like to check on my kittens first,” she said, walking arm in arm to her car. “But there’s a nice forest trail just up the road from the café if you like.”

  On the drive, she filled him in on her day and he seemed genuinely concerned for Fletcher’s wellbeing. It made her feel much better. Every minute that passed since going to the station had increased the sense she’d overreacted.

  “It’s a long time to go AWOL,” Braden agreed. “Especially if it looks like he was coming straight home.”

  “Do you know him at all?” It occurred to Marjorie that someone with a stash of laptops in their front room might operate in the same circles as a computer engineer.

  But Braden put her right on that score. “Never been a customer of mine. Given his age, he’s probably a dab hand at everything it took me years of training to learn.”

  When Marjorie walked inside the café, a disturbing silence greeted her. With her pulse increasing, she lunged upstairs, expecting signs of a catastrophe. Instead, the kittens were all inside the playpen, fast asleep.

  All but Houdini.

  “Where’ve you got to, you rascal?” she murmured, quickly scanning each room and coming up empty. “I swear, that kitten will be the de
ath of me.”

  “Heart attacks from fear are a lot less common than you seem to think,” Braden said, joining in the hunt with a smile. “Otherwise, surprise parties would be banned as instruments of death.”

  “They should be,” Marjorie said darkly, remembering one birthday close to the end of her marriage. She’d come home from a long day at her then job of office manager, only to have all her husband’s friends jump out at her from the shadows. They’d expected her to be pleased with another five hours of what appeared to her nothing but hard work.

  If he’d invited her friends, it might have been different. The fact he didn’t know them just proved their separation was long overdue.

  “Would this be the kitten you’re looking for?” Braden asked, pointing to a gap between the fridge and the bench from which a pair of golden eyes stared back. “I’m not sure how to get him out.”

  “That’s fine,” Marjorie said. “I don’t think he’s stuck—the wily thing probably couldn’t get wedged in if he tried. I’m happy knowing he hasn’t got out again.”

  With her mind at rest, they set off up the hill for the start of the trail. The forest around Hanmer Springs was lined with different walking tracks for all stages of fitness.

  Braden cast a concerned glance at the entrance marker. “That looks like it’s a few levels above my sedentary lifestyle.”

  Marjorie hooked her arm through his elbow. “You’re the one who suggested a walk. It’s too late to back out now.”

  Despite his misgivings, soon Braden took the lead as the path narrowed. The rich earth beneath their feet was soft with fallen pine needles and the songs of native birds rang out from the tree branches, keeping them company.

  “My only misgiving with heading downhill,” Braden said a good half hour later. “Is that at some point, ‘ll be expected to go uphill again.”

  “If you get too stuck, I’ll walk back alone and come back with a car for you.”

  “What an insult to my manliness.”

  Although she laughed, Marjorie felt increasingly uneasy as they ventured further into the woods. Usually, she’d love the chance for a good hike but with her mind on other matters, the deep shadows of the closing forest lowered her mood.

  “Look at this,” Braden said, pulling on a pink ribbon tied around a bridge strut. Considering the creek it traversed was barely more than a trickle, it seemed more like stage dressing than a necessity, even for the most unskilled walker.

  “There’s another one over there,” Marjorie said, pointing. In fact, there were quite a few dotted around the place. Until Braden drew her attention to them, they’d simply appeared as part of the colourful forest.

  “If they’re marking out a trail, I hate to think of the poor saps who follow it,” Braden said, fishing a large rock out of the muddy creek bed with another pink ribbon tied around it. “What are they expecting people to do with this one? Step in the middle of the mud?”

  “Like you,” Marjorie said with a laugh, seeing the bottom half of Braden’s jeans were now coated with the stuff. “I think you’ll need to give them a good wash.”

  He tried to make it up the short slope back onto the trail but gave a surprised chuckle when he couldn’t. “The mud’s sucking onto my shoes,” he said, bending over with laughter as he exerted more effort, only to end up in the same situation. “Can you give me a hand?”

  “Only if you don’t pull me… Oh!” Too late, Marjorie felt her balance tip as she slid down the incline. Soon she too was doubling over with tears streaming down her face. “Why’s… this… so… funny?” she said between bouts.

  “I give up,” Braden said, throwing his arms out to either side in dramatic fashion. “We’ll just have to stay here forever. King and Queen of the muddiest stream in the country.”

  “Stream is an overstretch for what this is,” Marjorie said, snorting as she gained one foothold only to slide back down again.

  “Careful. If you upset the river, it’ll take its revenge!”

  As Marjorie tried to turn and remonstrate, she overbalanced, one hand squeezing deep into the mud. “Ugh,” she uttered as the cold slime oozed between her fingers. “Help. We need help!”

  “Who’re you yelling to? I’m already helping.”

  Marjorie was consumed in another burst of laughter, then steeled the muscles in her thighs to wrench her hand out of the mud. With the sudden momentum of freedom, she came close to toppling in the other direction, but Braden steadied her.

  “I think we’re stuck here forever,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “To think I used to laugh at all my eighties heroes getting stuck in quicksand. I should’ve shown more respect.”

  “We could die,” Marjorie said with wide eyes, her solemnity only ruined when she dissolved into giggles again. “They’ll find our bones years from now and be left wondering what happened.”

  “Do you think…” Braden stopped, leaning in closer to whisper in Marjorie’s ear. “Do you think the pink ribbons were there to warn us?”

  His soft breath against her ear sent a delicious shiver running down her spine. “If so, I’d count that as a massive fail.”

  Braden took hold of Marjorie’s chin, tilting her head back. She closed her eyes as he leaned in, relishing the warm press of his lips against hers.

  “Get a room, Grandpa!”

  The hooting call of a cycling teenager broke the spell. Braden turned and lunged for the path, grabbing hold of an overhead tree branch as his feet came close to slipping away. Once he had a solid footing, he turned and grasped hold of Marjorie’s arm, pulling her free.

  “Well,” she said, bending to wipe her muddy hand on the dropped pine needles. “That was an unexpected adventure.”

  Braden grinned at her with a delighted expression that warmed a fire in her belly. “Yes, we should try it again sometime.”

  Neither of them was in the mood for further walking so they cut through the woods at an angle, ending up on the side of the road. From there, it was a quick walk up the hill, back to the café. As Marjorie wiped her hair back from her forehead, Braden wrinkled his nose. “I think you might need to wash that hand before it causes any more trouble.”

  After letting them inside and checking in the bathroom mirror, she saw a giant streak of mud across her forehead. “It’s probably good for wrinkles,” she assured her reflection as she scrubbed it away, then poked out her tongue. The red highlights in her cheeks had nothing to do with the energetic walk or the dirt.

  Although she would’ve enjoyed it more if Braden stayed, he excused himself a few minutes later, citing his online gaming companions as an excuse. Marjorie tried not to mind, feeding the kittens and making a quick sandwich for her own dinner.

  When Houdini jumped out at Marjorie from atop the kitchen cupboards, she flicked him with water, then smiled. “I’d better not drive you away. At the rate my relationship’s progressing, Braden will probably ask me to move in with him a week after we’re both dead.”

  Houdini blinked his large golden eyes, then trotted over to the sofa, disappearing in behind it.

  “Thanks. I didn’t want to spend time with you, either.” Monkey Business gave a start and backed up three steps. “Not you, honey. I was talking to another cat. Do you want to keep me company while I watch TV and wallow?”

  The answer to that was a firm yes and Marjorie drifted off to sleep on the sofa. When she woke, the moonlight was streaming in through the window, so bright it lit up the whole room with silver tones.

  She crossed to the window, watching the play of light as the clouds floated across the face of the moon. It cast shadows across Esme’s massage studio, fooling her into thinking there was something in there, moving.

  “I’m being daft, aren’t I?” she asked Monkey as he batted his nose into the backs of her legs. “Better get to bed otherwise it’ll be morning before I know it.”

  She turned off the blank television and yawned all the way to the bedroom. The next morning, the urge to thump of
f the alarm was stronger than usual and only a chocolate Persian paw in her face convinced Marjorie not to hit the snooze button.

  By the time she opened the café, the coffee machine had already been warmed up by preparing two Americanos. Marjorie was considering a third when the door opened, and Fletcher walked inside the cafe.

  “Are you the manager?” he asked, crossing to the counter with a grim expression on his face. “I need to speak to someone named Marjorie Hardaway.”

  Chapter Six

  It only took Marjorie a few seconds to scan his face and recognise the small differences. Fletcher’s ears stuck out further than this man’s. His eyes were more almond-shaped and his nose turned down at the tip rather than up.

  “I’m Marjorie,” she said after regaining the power of speech. “And you must be Fletcher’s brother.”

  “Duncan,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’m his twin.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” she said with a laugh. “I couldn’t work out why he was acting like he didn’t know me!”

  “Are you good friends?”

  “Not really. He comes in here most days though, and stays for hours, so we chat quite a lot.”

  Duncan pulled a phone out of his pocket, scrolling through a few screens before showing her a picture. It was the same one she’d passed to the police. Fletcher playing with Houdini, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Did you take this photo?”

  “Yeah.”

  Houdini scampered down the stairs, nearly toppling over in his excitement to reach Duncan. He placed a paw on the man’s calf, patting it repeatedly when he didn’t look down straight away.

  “That’s the co-star from the picture,” Marjorie said, nodding to the kitten. “Fletcher formed quite an attachment to him.” She pulled out the clipboard from under the counter. “He left this on the table the last day I saw him. Got halfway through the questions, then sprinted out of here as though his feet were on fire.”