by Ami Diane
“So,” Wink began once Ella had finished, “there were two people in the boat? It makes sense. I think we were all thinking that.”
“Agreed,” Ella said. “But it confirms that suspicion. How else could he have died in the boat?”
Flo slurped the last of her alcoholic coffee loudly, her mood considerably lighter than when she’d sat down. “And Jonas was sure they were both alive?”
“Unless the killer was re-enacting Weekend at Bernie’s, yeah.”
“So, the killer drowned him, got into another boat, and left,” Wink said, more to herself than the others.
“Jonas didn’t say he saw another boat. But it was dark,” Ella said. “So, what do we think about the skeleton found at the bottom of the lake?”
Flo took a swig straight from her flask, bypassing any pretense of coffee. “You said it was male, mid to late thirties, with polio, right?”
“Yeah, do either of you remember anyone who fits that description?”
Wink glanced sideways at Flo before focusing on Ella again. “A few people. The virus was pretty rampant before Pauline got here. Did she say how bad the victim had it?”
“Uh, no.” She should’ve asked Chapman followup questions. Maybe she could ask Pauline.
“Did any of these people disappear suddenly? Maybe you thought they’d left town?”
Both shook their heads. They drank their respective drinks in silence for a few minutes, lost in the mystery. Eventually, a customer wandered in.
“Just pick a seat, Frank,” Wink hollered. She pulled out the pen behind her ear and said in a low voice, “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”
Flo stood from her stool, teetered, then grabbed her ghost blaster.
Ella sucked in a breath. “Maybe you should leave that until you sober—”
The muzzle that looked like a megaphone lit up. An ear-splitting noise rent the air.
Ella ducked. Air brushed the top of her head. The wall exploded behind her.
Hank let out a surprisingly girly scream for a man of 6’ 2” and bolted out the diner.
Ella worked her jaw back and forth and wiggled a finger in her ear to shake the ringing. She slowly stood and stared at the damage behind her.
A charred hole the size of Fluffy burned in the wall, the edges still smoldering. The smell permeated the air, and she had a fleeting fear of asbestos.
“Ella, your hair!” Wink leaped at her, grabbing a nearby pitcher of water as she did.
Ella had only a moment to register the liquid flying at her before she was doused in ice water.
She sputtered then wiped her eyes, mascara coming off on her fingers.
She looked over at Flo.
The old woman had the decency to brush out an invisible wrinkle. “Well, at least I know it works.”
“I hate you.”
“Maybe next time you’ll call.”
Wink threw another cup of water at the smoldering wall. “Look what you did to my diner!”
“It ain’t my fault the trigger pull’s a might sensitive.”
“It’s only sensitive if the one pulling it is two sheets to the wind!”
Ella inspected the damage closer, not even wanting to see how bad her hair was yet. With a little sheetrock—or whatever composite material she was looking at—some paint, and it wouldn’t even be noticeable. All in all, it could’ve been a lot worse.
“Aside from the fact that you nearly made me the Headless Horseman, I just want to point out that this is why we should have a fire department.” Ella pointed at the ginormous hole in case it wasn’t clear.
After several more minutes of bickering and Ella playing referee, Flo left, and Ella helped Wink clean up the mess. Horatio came back from an extended lunch just as they were relocating a Coca-Cola sign to cover the damage.
After that, the rest of the work day went smoothly and became almost dull in comparison to Ella having her hair on fire. A small section of curly hair was extra curly and smelled like a blowdryer, but otherwise, it was mostly unnoticeable.
Ella realized in the chaos, she’d forgotten to bring up the topic of Dot living on Twin hills. As the day wore on, she began to entertain the crazy idea of talking to the woman.
But surely the sheriff knew Dot lived on Twin Hills and questioned her motive for helping Stan? If he’d already spoken with her, Ella would just be poking a hornet’s nest.
By the end of her shift, Ella had decided she could at least follow through with her mapping of the town’s boundary line. After changing back into her jeans, she left her waitress uniform hanging on a hook next to the aprons near the back door. It didn’t smell too badly, and she had a feeling that for the next foreseeable future, the walk to and from work would be through several feet of snow.
After she hung up her uniform, Ella popped into the diner. “Wink? Can I take a couple of these loaves of banana bread?”
“Sure thing, dear.”
Ella grabbed the loaves, wrapped them in a towel, then pulled out Wink’s ledger under the cash register.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t have cash on me. You can take it out of my wages.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Wink tucked a strand of pink hair behind her ear and snatched the leather book away from Ella. “You’ll take those loaves and pay nothing.”
“Wink—”
“I’d just have to throw them out in a day anyway.”
“There’s no way these wouldn’t be eaten before that.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing I was planning on baking another batch tomorrow morning.”
Ella raised an eyebrow. “Nice try. And thank you.”
“I don’t suppose that’s all for yourself, is it?”
Ella instantly regretted asking for the bread in the first place. “Maybe.”
“Two loaves?”
“Yep. Got a big appetite.”
“It’s not also for a certain inventor, is it?”
“Gone on any dates with Stewart lately?”
Wink held up her hands in surrender. “Touché. Go have a good rest of your day. Tell Will I said hello.”
Ella smiled, squeezing her friend’s shoulder on her way out the front door.
The snow was now just below her knees as she waded to the inn for a quick stop. She came out a minute later, carrying the cardboard tube that held the town map, hoping the falling accumulation wouldn’t dampen the exterior too much.
As she walked up Will’s driveway, her stomach fluttered with a now familiar feeling that hit any time she was in proximity to the inventor. Instead of hiking up the porch steps, Ella aimed for the outbuilding around the side of the house.
After she knocked, she heard a muffled reply and opened the door. Despite having been inside his shop a couple of times, it was one of her favorite places in Keystone. The structure smelled of grease and electricity, of innovation and dreams.
She picked a path around the guts of a television set that looked like it had come out the same year her mother had been born. In an effort to step over some sort of motor, she nearly bumped over an entire crate of beakers.
“Ella!” Will’s blue-green eyes lit up before they traveled to the bread and poster tube in her arms. “What brings you by?”
“A few things, actually. First,” she said, holding up one of the loaves of bread. Every inch of workbench had been claimed, so she set it on top of a washing machine that had a tube sticking out the top. “Second, how did the testing go?”
“Testing?”
“Didn’t you take the diving gear out for more testing? I saw you on the lake with it.”
“Ah. I was just testing a new gasket I put on. The feed tank out back isn’t as big as I would like, so it’s harder to test the seal. It was just easier in the lake. Wait—you didn’t think that I went diving without you, did you?”
“No, of course not. You’re smarter than that. Well, most of the time. I question your intelligence any time you help Flo with one of her stupid
ghost gadgets.”
He looked away, but the slight flush to his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. “She told you?”
“No. But you just did. There’s no way she builds those all by herself. William Whitehall, what are you thinking? Do you know she’s branched out to making her own death rays?”
“What?”
“Well, she calls them inter-dimensional something. But she’s basically building her own exotic weapons. Flo with normal armaments was dangerous enough.” She leveled a glare at him. “You created a monster.”
He scratched his chin. “I guess I’ll have to cut off her supplies.” When he saw Ella’s expression, he held his hands up in surrender. “I just meant, I’ll stop providing her with parts.”
“Biscuits and gravy, of course you will. I don’t suppose you’re the one who gave her bear spray, too?”
He rubbed the back of his neck then pointed at the tube. “What’s that there?”
Ella narrowed her eyes. “Smooth. And this conversation isn’t over.”
She searched for a space to unroll the map. He shoved aside what looked to be a deconstructed motor, and she unfurled it gently, careful not to get it dirty.
“Why do you have a map of the town?” His dark brows furrowed, and she noticed they made two small dimples in his forehead.
“Well,” she said cautiously, “I thought maybe you could help me. I was told that after the first hop, you took measurements around the town.”
His expression hardened, but he didn’t say anything.
“Anyway, I was thinking about mapping out the boundary line—”
“To what end?”
Because it might provide clues. Because I need to do something to try to get back home.
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t it be helpful for people like me, the newcomers, to know? I’d hate to be hiking through the forest and not realize I’d left Keystone and be stranded in medieval times. Don’t get me wrong, it’d be a cool time to visit, but not to live.”
“It’s not as great as you’d think. I spent the entire week we were there plugging my nose and keeping Flo’s hands off the sword of a knight who traveled through.”
“Good call. She would’ve cut off her own toes. Also, a knight traveled through Keystone? So disappointed I missed that. Did he say, ‘Ni’?”
“What?”
“Never mind. So, will you help me?”
He fiddled with the screwdriver in his hand. “El, the professor and I spent years on this. We walked around taking samples and readings…”
“To figure out what was happening. Not to mark the boundary.” She chewed her lower lip. “Just show me the places you know for sure, and I’ll do the rest.”
With a long-suffering sigh, he relented. She stood on a chair on her tiptoes while Will steadied her, and she snapped a photo of the map.
Then, they spent the next several minutes with him pointing at various spots while she marked them up in an app. Zooming in and out was annoying, but it was the only way she could think to make markings.
Twenty minutes later, she had a picture littered with red dots on the back side of Twin Hills, the forest, and just beyond the orchards.
“Looks like it has the chicken pox,” she joked, but her voice was tinged with frustration.
He chuckled. “So, how’s your investigation going?”
Ella’s heart hammered against her chest. Did he see through her and know why she really brought the map?
“What investigation?”
“Stan’s death. Unless you have another body I don’t know about?”
She let out a breath. “Not today, but there’s still time. I’m just kidding. I hope I go the rest of my life without seeing another dead body. How many does the average person see in their lifetime? Other than a mortician. I feel like I’ve hit that quota.”
For the next half-hour, she lingered in the shop, mooching off his loaf of banana bread and chatting about Stan’s death while helping him fix a grandfather clock. Through the window of the warm building, she noticed that the snow continued to fall.
“I should probably go,” she said reluctantly. “I still have another stop to make, and it’s a long hike.”
“Where’re you going?”
“Twin Hills.” She bit the inside of her cheek, hoping he’d assume she was going to Wink’s.
He frowned, glancing out the dusty shop window. “You sure that’s a good idea?”
She dropped her gaze to her down jacket and jeans. “Not really. But this jacket’s made for skiing, and these snow boots are pretty good. I’ll be okay.”
He seemed to struggle with his words as she rose off her stool. She grabbed the second loaf of bread and headed for the door.
“Be careful and have fun,” he called.
“I will.”
Careful was the easy part. Fun was roller coasters and karaoke. This was going to be like a visit to the dentist.
CHAPTER 27
BY THE TIME Ella reached the edge of town, she regretted her decision. Who was she kidding? She definitely wasn’t dressed for this.
Burrowing further into her black jacket, she considered turning around until the weather improved. Meanwhile, her breath had turned to ice inside her scarf.
Her right boot sunk into a drift, then the rest of her body followed. She lay on her back, buried in a few feet of snow.
Bending at the waist and huffing like Flo, she attempted to dig her way out. When that failed, she flopped around like a fish and made surprising progress.
Just then, a beautiful buckskin horse trotted across the road with Six guiding the mount’s reins. He pulled up beside Ella, leaned out, and watched her struggle with an amused expression.
“Need help?”
“Nope. Just making some snow angels.”
The offer of help surprised her and made her skeptical. Finally relinquishing the banana bread, she used both hands and was able to climb on top of the bank. “And now I’m done.”
The snow collapsed beneath her, and she was back to square one.
“Of course,” she muttered. Her legs were quickly turning to popsicles in her jeans.
“Yeah, you seem like you got this. I could lasso you out?”
She searched his face under the brim of his hat. “A joke? I didn’t think you knew how to make one.”
He scowled then bent further, still mounted atop Duke, as he stretched out his hand. Ella eyed it suspiciously.
“Why are you helping me, Six?”
“Dunno. Nothing better to do, I suppose. My offer’s good for only about five more seconds. After that, you’re on your own, darlin’.”
A breath later, she made her decision and clasped his hand. His fingers engulfed hers in strength and callouses. He hoisted her out of the snow in one motion as if she weighed nothing. He continued to lift her towards Duke’s back just behind the saddle.
“Wait, the banana bread.”
“Leave it.”
“You’re crazy if—”
“Hey, you can get off and grab it, but I ain’t rescuing you again.”
Ella sighed. “What a knight.”
“Dunno what that means, but you’d better hold on.”
The words scarcely left his mouth before the horse started. Ella began to fall backward and grabbed Six’s sweatshirt. It was like hugging a rock, but the added warmth and blockage of wind made her loath to let go.
The horse turned and meandered down Main Street. “Thanks for the rescue. If it’s not too much trouble, can you take me to Twin Hills instead of back to the inn?” Again, he surprised her, pulling the reins and turning a one-eighty.
“Wink’s?”
Ella paused then said in a low voice, “No. The east hill. Dot’s place.”
She felt, rather than heard him grunt.
Glancing behind her, she noticed their tracks quickly disappearing in the heavy snowfall.
“You’re like an Uber on hooves. Duke, the all-terrain taxi.”
“How’d ya know h
is name was Duke?”
“Hm?” Ella’s heart sped up. “Pretty sure I heard you call him that at some point.” It had nothing to do with the fact that she’d trespassed on his property, loosed the horse, and had overheard the outlaw hollering the animal’s name.
A gust of wind whipped past them, swirling the snow. She zipped up her jacket and used the outlaw as a barrier. If anyone looked out their windows and spotted the duo, they’d be the topic of gossip for at least a week.
“How can you see?”
“I can’t,” he replied. Ella’s grip on his mid-section tightened. “But Duke can.” He peeked over his shoulder, smirking.
They trudged up the steep, east hill in silence. So far, the hill looked the same as the west one with the exception of an occasional mailbox lining the obscured road. She was just about to ask Six how much further they had to go until they reached Dot’s place when he broke the silence first.
“You were right.” His gruff voice came out soft, like a secret, and nearly carried away by the wind.
Right about what? She vaguely recalled her words to him at their last encounter. She’d called him out and told him no matter what he did, she would still be his friend.
“I got no friends,” he continued. “Because—well, it don’t matter. I just don’t trust people.”
“I get that. I have trust issues, too. It doesn’t mean you have to be friendless, though. I mean, I know it goes hand in hand. How can you have friends if you can’t trust them? But you can. Maybe the connection won’t be as deep at first. I guess, what I’m saying, Six, is that there are good people out there, and a lot of them live in Keystone.” She stopped herself from saying more. Who was she to give advice? It wasn’t like she was winning awards for friend-of-the-year.
“Lady, I don’t think your ‘trust issues’ as you call ‘em run as deep as mine. All your friends betray you? Abandon you and leave town? Your best friend ever blue you to the law dogs for a reward?” His body tensed in her hands.
“I’m assuming that means he or she ratted on you, yes? Is that what happened to you?”
“Don’t matter. Point is, everyone’ll let you down. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but they will if you give ‘em long enough. Ain’t no one you can count on but yourself.”
