Burned to a Crisp

by K A Miltimore

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was another sunny and crisp autumn day, with blue sky and spectacular gold and orange leaves sprinkling the ground all along Griffin Avenue. Hedy was up a bit earlier than usual, just in case Bren was an early riser himself, and she saw the sun come up from the east porch. The sun glinting off of the glaciers of Mt. Rainier was always a breathtaking sight and one she never tired of. She ruminated over her coffee on Adelaide’s words and wondered what the spirit might have meant. It wasn’t the first time a traveler of dubious character had stayed with Hedy. Before moving to Enumclaw, Hedy’s house in Portland, Oregon had played host to a particularly surly lycanthrope and she could only imagine what he was like during a full moon. As a waystation host, you had to expect that some of the guests would be more challenging than others. There were times when there might even be danger if the guest had tendencies that couldn’t be controlled, but the number one creed for the waystation was Do No Harm to Others.

  So why had Adelaide warned her about Bren? Adelaide, unlike the menagerie, hadn’t been in a waystation very long - she was tied to the house, not to Hedy. Perhaps her limited experience had made her extra cautious. Despite having died in 1922, Adelaide had only been nineteen at the time of her death and her experience as a ghost had been limited to the residents of the house. If Adelaide would be willing to appear, and that wasn’t always the case, Hedy wanted to see if she could learn more about her concerns. She didn’t want to discount whatever was making Adelaide uneasy but it might just be a case of not understanding the nature of their guest.

  Empty coffee cup in hand, she smoothed out her apron and set to work to make her fresh glazed cinnamon snail rolls.

  The bell tinkled when the first customer came in an hour or so later; She had left two cinnamon snails and a carafe of coffee on the table outside Bren’s room, but still no sign of the salamander.

  “Glad to see you are open.” It was Mel, clearly skipping school again.

  “It’s good to see you again, Mel. But I must ask, shouldn’t you be in school?” Normally, Hedy didn’t like to pry but two days of truancy really was something to comment on.

  “Uh, well, yes and no. I am slated for early graduation and I am all caught up on coursework. The teacher just sends me to the library to hang out for the day, so I’m not missing anything. I am done with high school after this semester and I start the University of Washington in the spring.” Mel seemed almost embarrassed to share that she was well ahead of her peers in academics. Hedy poured a cup of coffee and placed it on the table in the corner.

  “Well, I had no idea you were a genius when you came in yesterday. I like to keep acquaintance with smart people so when a problem comes up, I might just ask you for help.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not really that smart. I’m just good at math - always have been. Numbers make sense to me and I like the way if you follow a formula properly, you get a consistent result.”

  “Kind of like baking, in that way. Though I would say the recipe is just the beginning - the real fun comes in the creativity and the bending of the rules. Speaking of that, would you care for a warm cinnamon snail? They are right out of the oven.”

  The morning wore on and Mel was engrossed in a calculus book, reading apparently for pleasure. A few more customers had come in, but by and large the shop was quiet. Zelda had wandered in and out and Alice, finally making her appearance, had hopped in quietly and then landed on her perch in the entry. Mel had not seemed to notice either arrival.

  The bell tinkled again and two women came in, dressed in very fashionable yoga outfits and fleecy boots. From their perfect looking hair, Hedy would guess they were on their way to yoga class, not from it, though maybe they weren’t heading to yoga at all.

  “I couldn’t believe it when I heard from Wendy this morning. The whole studio, just gone, and they haven’t found Shannon yet. Do you have non-fat cappuccino?” The last sentence was directed at Hedy, who shook her head.

  “Brewed coffee, I’m afraid - no espresso.” Hedy watched the woman’s shaped brows furrow slightly.

  “Hmm. What about chai? Any chai tea?”

  “Again, sorry - I have Earl Grey, Darjeeling, jasmine or chamomile teas.” Again, the perfect brows furrowed, marring her unnaturally smooth forehead ever so slightly.

  “Coffee with a splash of cream will work.” The woman sighed dramatically before continuing her conversation with her friend.

  “Seems it caught fire some time before midnight.” Hedy could hear the gossipy excitement in the woman’s voice, though she seemed to be trying hard to sound concerned.

  “I wonder if the heating system caused it? Shannon had only installed the hot yoga space a month or so ago. I’ll take the same coffee, to go, thanks.” The other customer hadn’t turned to face Hedy as she also placed her order, but instead was fishing out some cash from a hidden pocket in her shiny yoga pants. Sanskrit letters scrolled down her legs.

  “I got it, Heather,” she waived her Visa card toward Hedy before continuing, “I’d be surprised if it was the heating system. Honestly, if I had to guess, I would guess someone set it deliberately. Wendy said that the fire burned so fast that the firemen couldn’t save the building. It was like gas was on it.” Both women took their paper coffee cups and headed back toward the front door, muttering “thank you” as they went. With another tinkle of the bell, they were gone.

  “Mel, did you hear them mentioning a fire? Did you notice anything when you were walking here?” Hedy had caught Mel’s eye peeking over the edge of her book as the women were speaking.

  “Yeah, I couldn’t help but hear them. My house isn’t near the main part of town so I didn’t see anything but I did smell smoke in the air. I thought someone might be burning trash. I’m gonna look it up on my phone though.” She paused for a minute and a few swipes later, she held up her phone for Hedy to see. There was a small image of a blazing fire visible across the shop. “The news says the cause of the fire is still not known but it might have been purposefully set. The owner, Shannon Williams, has not been located yet.”

  “Which studio was it?” Hedy had lived in town for almost a year but there were many stores and shops that she still didn’t know. She hadn’t done much to explore her new town.

  “The one off Pioneer - not too far from the sandwich place. Luckily, it was a standalone building and not attached to anything. A whole block could have gone up otherwise.”

  “What an awful thing - I hope the owner is alright.” Hedy gave a slight shake of her head as she spoke, as if that would chase away any danger.

  “Me too. It was a popular studio, always busy and with the new hot yoga, even more people were going. Personally, I don’t see the appeal of sweating in a hundred-degree room but that is just me.” Mel had never found yoga very appealing. She liked track and field, especially long distance running. That made much more sense than trying to bend herself into a sweaty pretzel.

  “I agree, it wouldn’t be my cup of tea, but to each their own. Whatever caused it, I hope they find out soon and I hope they find the missing woman.” Hedy returned her focus to the mixing bowl and Mel went back to her calculus.

  The day continued with more customers coming in, with a few mentioning the fire, but generally keeping their focus on cookies and pies. The flow was steady and it kept Hedy from making any real headway on her plans for candy jack o’lanterns. She was planning to test some modeling caramel but she needed time and quiet, and the customers were just a little too steady for that to happen.

  She looked up when the bell tinkled and saw her neighbor, Mr. Jeffries, entering the shop. “Good morning, neighbor,” Hedy said as he approached the counter.

  “Good morning. I noticed your yard is looking unkempt again. I thought you had planned to hire a gardener to keep things up to the neighborhood standards. This is a historic home, as you know. It is on the National Registry and it must be kept in top condition, including the yard.” Mr. Jeffries looked at her impatiently, irrita
tion clearly marked in the crows’ feet around his small eyes. His skin was an unsightly mottled red that blended up to the faded red hair left on his head.

  “Indeed, I did say that. I have not found someone willing to take on the job. Perhaps you know someone who would be interested?” Hedy could have been irritated by the man, but she refused to let his attitude ruin an otherwise lovely day.

  “Your yard is your responsibility, not mine to arrange. I believe I saw a flyer up at the Safeway for a local gardener; you could start there. With autumn upon us, all the leaves are going to create quite a mess if you don’t keep up on it.” Hedy noticed the deep frown lines around his mouth, no doubt from too many years lacking smiles. How did someone live that way, she wondered.

  “Thank you for stopping by to share your concerns. I will continue to look for someone.” She could tell he wasn’t pleased with that answer as the red in his face started creeping down his neck.

  “I’ll be happy to lend a hand by raking the yard today. I have time.” Bren had entered the room from the entry and Mr. Jeffries turned at the sound of his voice.

  “I didn’t know Miss Leckermaul had anyone else staying here.” Mr. Jeffries puckered his lips as he spoke. Hedy could tell he was making an assumption about Bren’s presence but she did not feel inclined to correct him. Her business was none of his.

  “Thank you, Bren. There is rake in the garage but you certainly don’t need to feel obliged to do so. It is, after all, just leaves.” Mr. Jeffries gave her sharp look before turning toward the door. “Goodbye, neighbor,” she called out as he shut the door with a hard slam.

  “He’s charming.” Bren smiled slightly as he joined her in the shop.

  “Yes, Mr. Jeffries has been a delight since we moved in. There is always this faint odor of displeasure around him, like sour milk. The man hasn’t even eaten a cookie, which tells me right off the bat he is not to be trusted. I try not to judge a book by its cover, but his cover makes me think of mildew.” Hedy smiled and she heard Mel chuckle from behind her book in the corner.

  “Well, I’ll go rake the leaves and perhaps that will appease him for now.” Bren left the room and the ladies heard the front door bell tinkle.

  “I’ve never seen him before. Is he new in town?” Mel inquired almost immediately.

  “Oh, that was rude of me, I should have introduced you. He’s that visitor I mentioned and he's just passing through. He's only staying with us a few days, that’s all.” Hedy could feel Mel’s eyes on her, though she hadn’t looked up.

  “Too bad he won’t be staying longer. The town can always use more interesting people. He reminds me of an actor I’ve seen, tall and kinda good looking. Like that guy that played a detective, Cumbersomething...He’s cute, right?” Hedy looked up briefly to catch Mel smiling at her before resuming her book.

  Hedy made a disapproving shushing sound but she did wander over to the window to watch Bren bring the rake out of the garage. Maybe he was a little handsome, but that wasn’t important. He was a guest and besides, Hedy remembered all too well what happened when she got involved with a guest, back in New Orleans.

  “Sherlock Holmes. You are thinking of Sherlock Holmes, Mel. That’s who he looks like.” Hedy watched the girl barely look above the edge of the book, but she could tell she was smiling behind the pages.

  “Looks like Dr. Strange to me. He’s the one you said didn’t eat children, right?” Mel chuckled, no doubt remembering Hedy’s story from yesterday.

  “Well, as far as I know he doesn’t eat them. He hasn’t made any special requests for dinner. If he does though, you’ll be the first one I come to.” Hedy gave Mel a look that could have meant Mel would be on the menu.

  “I suspect I wouldn’t be very tasty, so I’d stick with chicken. Everything tastes like chicken, right?” They both laughed at that. Hedy had never hosted a cannibal; she definitely would draw the line there.

  “Whatever dark secrets he has, I doubt he’ll be here long enough for us to learn them. Best to get back to our own business, huh?” Hedy gave Mel a nod and they both returned to their work, the news of the fire forgotten.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Normally, Hedy tried to get all her grocery shopping done for the week on Sundays when the shop was closed, but today she found herself in need of a few staples and she decided to run out for quick trip during the day. Mel had left, so Hedy switched the sign to “Closed” and headed down the stairs toward her car. She’d remembered to take off her apron, which was a good start and not always a given. Her dress was a purple sleeveless shift and she had tossed on an orange cardigan against the breeze, the color reminiscent of her freckles. Her hair was more bouffant than beehive today and with the amount of AquaNet she used, it would survive more than any passing wind; Enumclaw was notorious for strong winds.

  The town had a main grocery store, a specialty meat market a seasonal farm stand and plenty of backyard farmers who sold eggs and honey. Today, Hedy just needed some butter and few essentials for dinner so she headed over to the local Safeway. It happened to also be near the site of the fire and she was curious to see what remained of the building.

  She drove slowly through town - it was the kind of town where the police kept a sharp eye for speeders. The Corvair coupe in atomic blue was not exactly a low-profile vehicle, so Hedy took care to mind the limits. Right before the Safeway parking lot, she saw the remains of the yoga studio. Blackened, charred remains were soaked with water, with shards of glass spiking the ground around it. The building hadn’t been that large and the fire consumed it all, leaving only a few stubs of 2x4 framing and a few fragments of wall. She continued passed the spot and pulled into the parking lot for the store.

  Inside, she noticed the bulletin board with signs for services and local clubs. Chuckling, she tore off one of the tags from the flyer for a gardener. Maybe this would keep Jeffries off her back, she thought. Probably not.

  It didn’t take her long to get the few items in her cart and head for the checkout stand. As someone who made everything herself, she didn’t need to spend time considering frozen entrees, canned soups, or toaster tarts. Essentials were easy to shop for.

  When it was Hedy’s turn at the conveyor belt, she took out the three gallons of milk, four dozen eggs and six pounds of butter from her cart. For dinner, she had picked up a fillet of wild, if previously frozen, sockeye salmon. She’d bake it with some lemon and a bit of dill from the herb pots on her windowsill.

  “Doing some baking?” The clerk began to scan Hedy’s items, eyeing the large quantity of butter.

  “You could say that. I have the bakery on Griffin Avenue. Just picking up a few items.”

  “Oh right, that shop in the old house. I’ve never been but I’ve heard you have… interesting things.” The way the clerk’s voice trailed off when she said “interesting” made Hedy think of other word choices, like “weird” or “strange”.

  “You should come visit and have a cookie on the house.” She smiled as she started loading the milk back into her cart.

  “Thank you. I might just do that.” The clerk’s voice didn’t leave Hedy feeling hopeful. Both she and the shop weren’t everyone kind of cookie and she was alright with that.

  “Have you heard any news about the yoga studio fire? Did they find the owner?” Hedy wasn’t one to gossip but she had a bad feeling about the situation and she wondered if there was anything new that was known.

  “No, and it is so sad. The firefighters and the police have been there all morning. They searched the building top to bottom but no remains and no sign of her. They do know it was arson, but beyond that, no clues on what happened to Shannon.” The clerk handed her the last bag.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope they find her soon. Her family must be so worried.” Hedy took her receipt, calling out as she left, “I really do hope you come by for a cookie.”

  Back at home and unloading her groceries, Zelda met her at the porch. Even if Zelda were capable of carrying groceries
, it wouldn’t be in her nature to do so. She only came to share information, and often not even that.

  “You had a call while you were out.” Zelda said. Hedy, unlike most of the world, still had a landline telephone and an answering machine with mini tapes. “Another traveler is due to arrive, likely tonight. Details are on the machine.” Message delivered, Zelda turned and headed for the sunny corner of the porch.

  “That’s odd, usually we don’t have much overlap. Thank you for the message, Zelda.” Hedy pondered the complexities of having two guests as she loaded the groceries into the kitchen. Unlike typical guests, having two travelers at once could be more of a problem, depending on the unique circumstances of each. She’d have to listen to the message to see what she was getting into.

  “Well, we shall make do as we always do, right Maurice?” Maurice was enjoying a snack of basil and buffalo mozzarella at the kitchen table.

  “I suppose we shall, though why we serve host to these creatures, I don’t understand. Isn’t it enough that you have people coming in and out of our home all day in the shop? Must we also open ourselves up to risk with these travelers?”

  “I’m surprised at you, Maurice. When did you become so uncharitable? You came into our lives when you and that dreadful traveler, Dr. Zee were in need of help in Portland. He moved on but you opted to stay. What if I had turned you away in your hour of need?” Hedy frowned at him as she stacked the butter in the refrigerator.

  Maurice shuddered at the memory of the necromancer. “Point well taken. But things are different now. Times are more uncertain, more dangerous. The travelers of the past are not the travelers of today. I doubt they are all seeking refuge or protection as they were in the past - what about those who would do us harm?”

  Hedy came and sat down at the table with Maurice. She thought for a moment before she answered him. “I understand the fear. But I also know that to turn away those in need, to refuse to help just because of our fear is not an option if we want to live in the kind of world we are trying to protect. Turning our backs on others not only hurts them, it hurts us. I’m not willing to do that, are you?” She reached out and gave Maurice a small tickle under his ear. “We are all too good for that, Maurice. Even Zelda.” The chinchilla chortled and a bubble of spit hit his lip before he returned to his snack.