by Amber West
“Does he have to get it?”
“No, but I can only expect him to pull the purse strings and reopen again so many times. Until I know what the next move is, it can’t hurt to just let him think I’m still here in Brooklyn.”
“Looks like you’ve made up your mind, James. I’ll miss you, but it sounds like this is what you want to do, and I’ve learned not to stand in your way.”
“Wow, you almost make me sound evil.” I reached across the table and squeezed his hand, my voice softening. “You know I’ll come visit you. It’s a short flight. Even drivable.”
He squeezed my hand back and started to speak, but stopped and cleared his throat. “Are you coming by the hospital before you go to say bye to the staff?”
I knew he was trying to change gears just enough to keep from getting emotional. “Of course. I’ll bring cake.”
“You shouldn’t bring your own farewell cake.”
“Eh, it’s the least I can do.” I looked down at my watch and decided to give him an easy out. “You have to get back don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, right?”
I nodded and leaned in for a hug. He squeezed me tightly while I tried my best to keep it together for his sake and mine. He let go and I stepped back. “Yes. Tomorrow!”
I turned and headed towards my apartment, so he couldn’t see my eyes filling with tears.
Chapter 4
The winding road I was following was surrounded by thick forest. It had been years since I’d seen woods so dense and green. I drove with the windows cracked, breathing in the smell of pine and earth. I hadn’t passed another vehicle in over an hour and the only sound around me was the whooshing of the air and a random country station playing on my stereo. I hated country music, but in the last few miles it was the only thing that would come in clearly.
I began to wonder if I had made a wrong turn somewhere along the way when the woods started to thin. Up ahead I spotted a sign welcoming me to the town of Ruth Valley, and as I turned the bend in the road, the tiny town started to form ahead. Small shops lined the old cobblestone roads. The butcher, barber, and bakery sat in a row like a something from a nursery rhyme. I spotted a diner up ahead and decided I’d get a bite to eat before heading to the B&B for the night.
As I slid my black coupe into a parking space, I couldn’t help but notice how wrong it looked next to the hulking mud-covered trucks parked alongside it.
I walked into the diner and noticed the shiny white counters, the chrome stools, and the red vinyl booths. The customers glanced up at me for a moment then returned to their conversations and meals.
“Have a seat where you like, hon, someone will be with you in a minute.”
The voice came from an older woman behind the counter. She had jet black hair which clearly came from a box and her uniform was a size too small. I slid into an empty booth, sinking down slightly to avoid any more looks from the locals.
“Hello, Miss. I’m Emma. What can I get you this evenin’?” A plump blonde with rosy cheeks, a southern drawl, and the same yellow dress as the older woman laid a menu in front of me. “Somethin’ to drink?”
“Can I get a water with lime for now?”
“I dunno if we have any limes.”
“Lemon is fine then.”
Emma blinked, a blank look on her face.
“Or just plain water is good, too.”
“I’ll be back with that in a sec.”
I glanced over the menu and was happy to see a lack of French words and sun-dried tomatoes. Good old fashioned home cooking was all they offered. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate pot pie or meatloaf. Dylan would have died if we ate anywhere like this.
“Here you’ go, Miss. I even found some lemon for you.” Emma set the glass down on the table, whipped out her notepad, and leaned to one side. “So what can I get you?”
“I was thinking about the meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“Are you gonna be in town for long or are you passin’ through?”
Now I was the one blinking with a blank look. “I’ll be here for a while.”
“Then the meatloaf is a great idea. Our chicken and dumplins’ are amazin’ though, so if you were just gonna be here for the night, I would recommend you not miss ‘em.”
I smiled. “Then next time I’m in here, I know what I will be getting.”
“Great! You’ll love the meatloaf, too.”
“Thanks,” I paused before adding, “Emma.”
She smiled as if I’d just asked her to be my best friend and practically skipped to the kitchen. I shook my head, trying to imagine a waitress at any of the restaurants we frequented in New York having the same reaction.
I looked out the window at the shops across the way. There was someone sweeping out in front of one, although what they were sweeping, I couldn’t be sure. I’d never seen streets so clean. I started to reach into my camera bag, but then stopped. I had already received a few looks, albeit friendly ones, and wasn’t really looking to draw additional attention. Instead, I grabbed a paper tucked behind the condiments on the table.
It was only a few pages thick, more of a newsletter than an actual newspaper, filled with the latest on what was happening in town. There was a sale at the Sally Mae’s, a local clothing store from the looks of it, right next to a notice about hunting season and a town barbecue and rummage sale this weekend.
Quaint. Just what I was hoping for.
As I scanned through various announcements, like who won the local school spelling bee, my meatloaf arrived.
“Here you go. Let me know if I can get you anything else.”
It smelled amazing. “Thanks so much.”
Emma smiled and bounced off to another table, chatting and laughing with some friendly looking men dressed in flannel.
I dove in, famished from surviving on sunflower seeds and water during my drive down. The potatoes were buttery and smooth, definitely not from a box, and the meatloaf was full of flavor, not one of them being ketchup. More than I expected from a tiny town diner. As I ate, I scanned the last page of the paper and spotted the rental ad that brought me down here in the first place.
There was no picture, just a description. The same description that caught my eye on the internet.
Home for rent. 2/1. Updated interior and furnished. Non smokers only, pets ok. Appointment only. Ask for Jack. $450
I had an appointment to see the place tomorrow afternoon, and I hoped it wasn’t a dump. There didn’t seem to be much else available in this tiny town, and I didn’t really want to spend my days living out of a suitcase in the Bed and Breakfast.
Emma came to the table as I polished off the last forkful of mashed potatoes. “How was it?”
“So good. Thank you.” As she picked up the plate I pointed to the ad in the paper. “Emma, do you know this place?”
She held the plate in one hand as she rested the other on her hip, leaning over my shoulder to see the ad.
“Oh yeah, cute place. Old renter up and left a few weeks ago. I think you might be too late, though. Jack has a guy lookin’ at the place tomorrow.”
“I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon, too. Hopefully I get to look at it first, I guess.”
“Hmph,” said Emma, scrunching up her face, “Jack didn’t mention he had two people lookin’.” She must have noticed the look of disappointment on mine, as she quickly added, “I haven’t seen anyone I don’t know in here other than you, though, so maybe this other guy won’t show.”
I smiled, grateful for her attempt to put my worries at ease.
Emma winked. “Can I get you some dessert?”
“Tempting, but I’m afraid you might have to roll me to my car if I eat another bite.”
She laughed and laid the ticket on the table. “Whenever you’re ready then.”
I pulled some cash out of my pocket and smiled when I saw my bill only came to $5.95. I could barely grab fast food in the city for that much. I
laid a ten on the table and headed out. Walking to my car, I stared up at the end of the long road and spotted what looked like a church steeple. The church looked big, even from this far, especially for what seemed like such a tiny town.
“Look out!”
I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me backwards as I started to step onto the sidewalk. A second later a kid on skates went whizzing past. I turned to see the hand that grabbed me attached to a broad-shouldered man in a grey t-shirt, jeans, and baseball cap.
“Careful there. The Johnson kid is small but fast. Would have given you a good bump if I hadn’t been here.”
I looked up as he returned my stare with blue eyes and a boyish grin.
“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Obviously. Thanks.”
“No problem, miss. Have a good one.”
He tipped his hat and turned towards the diner as I walked to my car. Once in, I turned my key in the ignition, backed out, and noticed him watching as I drove off.
Chapter 5
I rang the bell on the counter and started to wander around the foyer of the bed and breakfast. The shelves were full of Hummel figurines, collectible Elvis plates, and more doilies than I could count. Eclectic didn’t quite cover the decor of the place.
“Hi there. What can I do for you?”
I turned to see an old man make his way to the counter with the aid of a polished wooden cane. His movements were slow, deliberate, but steady.
“I need a room for a couple of nights.”
“Sure. We have several available. Name?”
“Jameson Quinn.”
He looked down as he added my name to a leather bound ledger, cracked with age. “Jameson? Like the Whiskey?”
I nodded.
“Would you like your own bathroom?”
“Uh...yeah. That would be good.”
“Tub, shower, or both?”
“Both.”
He nodded, rummaged through a drawer and fished out an old key.
“You’ll be in the Orchid room, last door on your left, upstairs. Do you need help with your bags?”
I was wearing a backpack filled with clothes and toiletries and had my camera bag slung over one shoulder. Everything else was in suitcases in the car. Looking at the old man, I doubted he would be able to help much, even if his intention was to try.
“I think I’m ok. Is it safe to leave a few things in my car for the night?”
The old man smiled. “You’ve never been here before. Couldn’t be any safer if it was locked away in Fort Knox. Breakfast is served at seven o’ clock. If you want to eat later than that, there will a few things left out on the buffet until nine.”
I tried not to visibly cringe at the idea of getting up at seven as I handed him a credit card to pay for the room. He shook his head.
“I know it’s a little old fashioned, but we only take cash from people we don’t know. There’s a bank in town where you can get some tomorrow.”
It did seem backwards, but since he didn’t insist I run out for cash that minute, I didn’t balk at the odd rule.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to do that in the morning.”
“That’s fine. If you need anything, you can always ring the bell. There are extra towels and linens in your room. Name’s Gordon by the way, and you’ll see my wife around in the morning, Maria. She’ll be happy to gab with you about the town and shopping and all that.”
His tone was rough, but he wore a smile as he spoke. I decided I liked the old man and would let him get back to relaxing for the evening.
“Great. I’ll head up then. Have a good night.”
“You do the same, Miss Quinn.”
Key in hand, I made my way up the creaky stairs, surrounded by old pictures of people I could only assume were family of the owners, or one-time guests of the Inn.
Walking down the hall, I passed the doors, each hand painted with a different flower. When I reached the last door on the left, there was a single white orchid painted on the door. After jiggling the key back and forth, I managed to open it and make my way inside. The room was simple: more lace than I’d ever seen in one place, but no kitschy figurines or famous people grinning from serving dishes.
I set my bags on the floor next to the bed, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed in the sea of purple and white pillows. I knew it wasn’t very late, but the long day mixed with a heavy dinner was the perfect recipe for dozing off in the embrace of the thick comforter.
I drifted off with images of the handsome blue eyed man watching me leave the diner flashing in my head, wishing I hadn’t left my bat in the car.
Chapter 6
The early morning autumn air was crisp and felt good on my skin as I started to run. It was cooler than I expected, burning my lungs as I got further into the run and started breathing heavier. My headphones were in, but I kept the music off for a while, enjoying the sounds of nothing but my feet pounding against the pavement.
I turned down a side street that led to Oak Lane. I had memorized the map of town over a quiet breakfast and decided I would check out the property before my afternoon appointment. If this place was nice, I didn’t want to lose it. I’d check it out, then find a way to get a hold of Jack before he met with anyone else.
The street leading to Oak was lined with well-spaced out houses, some big, some small, all different, yet somehow complementary to each other. The faces varied, but were always wood, brick, or stone. No stucco or vinyl siding in sight. The yards weren’t manicured, but were well kept.
As I veered left onto Oak Lane, I slowed down to a jog, then a walk so I could watch for the right address. There were fewer houses, and I could see the Lane end up ahead. There, on the left, was a large tree stump, with tarnished numbers nailed to it. 1212. The address Jack emailed me when I scheduled the appointment.
I walked up the long gravel driveway, following it as it wound deeper and further to the left. Trees lined the whole drive, as if someone had tried to disturb the wooded lot as little as possible when putting in the house. Just when I had walked far enough down the drive that the street was completely out of view, there it was.
Or at least, there it was supposed to be.
Where I was expecting to see a tiny two bedroom home, I was greeted by a two story house, dark red wood and brick, with green ivy climbing up one side. There was a porch that wrapped around the entire place front to back, of a slightly different color, as if it was newer than the rest of the place. I looked around and didn’t see any cars or signs of life. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to confirm I had the right address.
I did.
There was no fence, so I wandered around the side of the property. As I got closer to the rear of the house I saw a barn to the far left and a small A frame building to the right. It looked as if someone chopped the roof of a large log cabin and dropped it there.
Maybe that was the rental?
I had come this far and figured I may as well peek in the windows, so I wandered back. I leaned against a tall window next to the door, cupping my hands around my eyes to block out the glare of the early morning sun in hopes of seeing into the dark house. I squinted, but couldn’t see much through the tiny gap in the sheers covering the window.
“You know, wandering around on someone’s property unannounced around here can get a person in a heap a’ trouble.”
I leapt away from the window, tripping awkwardly across my own feet. I regained my balance and looked up to see the same man from outside the diner standing behind me. He towered over me, one hand on his hip, his other hand resting on an unhooked holster, complete with gun.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think anyone was home.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t make you sound less suspicious you know.”
“Right. Sorry, sorry. I was looking for the house for rent and didn’t think it would hurt to sneak a peek through the windows. I would have knocked, but it didn’t look like anyone was home and I didn’t even know if I had the rig
ht house and it’s so early...”
Between being startled and neglecting a jacket for the run, I could feel myself starting to tremble, and knew I was rambling. I took a deep breath. The man with the gun grinned.
“It’s ok. Why don’t we walk up to the house and grab a cup of coffee. Then I’ll show you around the house.” He held out his hand, “I’m Jack.”
I grabbed his hand and shook it, squeezing tighter than normal to control the shaking. “I’m Jameson.”
He paused before grinning again. “Nice grip, Jameson.”
I followed him as he walked up through the yard to the big house, glancing at the gun in its holster and wondering if following this guy was such a good idea. If I was still in the city I’d have mace on my keychain, but out here all I had was my phone. Somehow I couldn’t picture beating someone down with the butt of a smartphone.
Coffee did sound awfully good, though.
Jack slowed his pace so we were walking side by side. “So, you’re from New York, eh?”
“Yeah. I mean, no, I’m not from there originally, but I just came from there. I lived there for about five years.”
“What part?”
“Brooklyn, mostly, but I moved around here and there.”
He nodded. “Nice place.”
“It has its moments.”
We reached the porch and stepped up to a screen door. Jack swung it open and held it wide, waiting for me to go in. I stood frozen for a second, not so sure I wanted to enter. I glanced at the gun again.
“I’m sorry, is this making you nervous?” Jack pat the holster on his hip, noticing my glance.
“Honestly? Yeah. A little bit.”
“You didn’t see the car in the barn, did you?”
I wasn’t sure why a car was going to put my mind at ease. “No...”
“The car with the red and blue lights on the top?”
He stood there waiting for me to make the connection. I kicked myself for having to think about it for more than a second.
“You’re a cop?”
“Sheriff.”
“Ah. That would explain the gun so early in the morning.”
