I didn’t know what to say. To reveal all that to a perfect stranger must have been rather uncomfortable. I looked at Matthew out of the corner of my eye.
“It’s OK, I’ve accepted it and the fact that Danny is a complete chatterbox. Anyway, the whole town knows the story. I’m sure all the people in Kerington do too,” Matthew said.
I’d hardly set foot in Scarborough, and the first two people I started conversations with were astoundingly down-to-earth and kind. In Kentwood, the people weren’t disagreeable, but they weren’t warm toward strangers either.
It was nice to chat, the three of us. Matthew told me that he had completed his entire education in Scarborough, and after earning his diploma, with honors, he launched himself into management studies. There again, he was the top of his class, but instead of pursuing an ambitious career by accepting prestigious job offers, he preferred to live his dream of working with his father to run the restaurant, and he would take his place when the time came.
Our conversation drifted toward our respective interests, but when father and son began to squabble over which soccer team was the best in the county, I knew it was time to leave.
Besides I wanted to continue my exploration of the town while I still had a bit of time. It was about three in the afternoon when I left Danny’s Good Eats—though not before accepting Danny’s warm invitation to return anytime—and I strolled around the neighborhood. The houses were colorful and welcoming; the shops were numerous and varied. There was a small square with a fountain and benches, where a bunch of elderly women gathered. They chatted as they knitted, and somehow seemed not to suffer at all from the cold.
I walked up the street to a bookstore and went inside. The aisles were narrow and dusty, and they overflowed with all kinds of books. An incredibly beautiful blond woman with azure-blue eyes came out of the back room and welcomed me with a toothy smile and an enthusiastic hello.
“I’m Angela Schumaker. This is my shop. How may I help you?”
In general, old-fashioned bookstores were run by people who were also . . . old, but Angela looked about twenty-five years old and had incredible style. She should have been a cover model for magazines, not a bookstore owner. I was sure that her usual patrons didn’t come merely for the pleasure of reading.
“Hello, I just arrived here and—”
“Samantha Stratford. News travels fast.”
Actually, word of mouth worked with such speed here that it put the fastest Internet connections to shame.
“Indeed. I don’t know Scarborough and the region well. Do you have a book about the town’s attractions, and maybe good local walks?”
“Of course, wait just a minute.”
She headed for one of the shelves and without hesitating climbed up a ladder to grab a book. Her graceful gait and delicate frame made me think she must have taken ballet for years; her tight-fitting clothes and her high heels gave her a sex appeal that she didn’t even seem aware of.
“Here you go,” she said, handing me the book in question. “Scarborough and Its Surroundings, by Ellen McCoy. It was published three years ago. She was a food critic who was passing through here. She had only scheduled a quick stop to try out Danny’s restaurant, but he and the town made such a strong impression on her that she stayed a year and immortalized us in this book.”
“I suppose the part concerning Danny must be glowing.”
She laughed. “That’s for sure! But she didn’t exaggerate. You can go for miles and miles, and you won’t find a better chef than Danny. His roast chicken is famous.”
“I know, I ate some this afternoon, and it was delicious. So how much for Scarborough and Its Surroundings?”
“Seeing as you just arrived, let’s say that it’s your welcome gift.”
“That’s completely unexpected and very nice, really! I can’t wait to read it. I’m going to continue my visit of your town. I’m delighted to have met you.”
“Me too. See you soon, Miss Stratford.”
She gave me another toothy smile. The Claudia Schiffers and Gisele Bündchens of the world could go put their clothes back on: men must be jostling at this woman’s door. In comparison, I looked like a badly groomed cavewoman.
“See you soon.”
In a great mood, I left to look for the candy shop that Danny had told me about. I hoped that the owner would be as kind as the others I had encountered.
I didn’t need anyone to give me directions. Even from a few blocks away, I could clearly see the red-and-white rock candy sign. I walked in to a profusion of colors: there were sweets displayed everywhere—on stands and shelves, hanging from hooks on the walls. The store was divided in two. On one side were chocolates, on the other were candies, and, in the middle, a cashier’s station. I rang the small bell next to the register, but no one came right away.
Supposing that I could help myself freely while waiting for the cashier, I grabbed a small plastic bag and gave free rein to my self-indulgence. I usually didn’t buy any of this stuff to avoid fattening up or getting cavities. It wasn’t that I worried much about the scale, but I wanted to fit comfortably in my pants. I was grabbing some strawberry lollipops when a high, squeaky voice made me jump and drop my bag of candy.
“Samantha Stratford!”
A woman had cried out as if she knew me. “Oh, I’m so sorry I scared you! I’m Ginger Wood. Danny told you about me, and he told me about you. I just came from his place. He lives below his restaurant.”
During this whirl of words, she grabbed my hand, and by way of introduction, she shook it so hard my teeth rattled.
“Um, yeah, he told me about you. That’s why I’m here.”
Her energy and vigorous handshake contrasted with her physical appearance. With her short permed white hair, her round glasses, and her checkered skirt, she looked like an older woman. It was hard to figure out how old she was. Fifty? Sixty?
“What a charming man, that Danny! And his son, Matthew, is so handsome in addition to being so nice and smart. You saw him—what did you think? And what’s your impression of our little town? And your grandfather, does he like it here? Because we’ve never had the pleasure of meeting him.”
While she talked, I noticed a sign hanging on the wall that Ginger had won a prize for best chocolate maker, and more than once. She could have held the title for Miss Gossip too. I thought it would be prudent to watch what I said; I was quite sure she would go repeat everything to her friends as soon as I left her shop.
“Danny and his son gave me a very warm welcome, as did your bookseller, Angela Schumaker, which makes me think that as well as being beautiful, your town is very friendly.”
“Oh, you went to Angela’s? She’s magnificent, isn’t she? All the single men here and for miles around dream of marrying her. She’s had a few proposals, but she declined them all. She only cares about books. As if that’s how you have children. Bah!”
I had already planned on doing so, but that last bit of information made up my mind to go back to Angela’s bookstore. We shared a passion for books, and I found her very pleasant, so maybe I could at last make a friend. Ginger was talking so fast I had to stop thinking about the bookstore and a new friend so I could focus on what she was saying.
“. . . the people of Scarborough are all speculating about her future husband. Everyone thinks that she and Matthew will end up together. I say that neither one of them will take the plunge. They’ve always been friends, but for that to evolve into something more, one of them has to decide to do something about it, and they’re both equally foolish.”
I wondered if Ginger would finish her monologue at some point. I’d just arrived, and I was curious to get to know the town, not the love stories of its inhabitants. It was time to change the subject.
“I’ve never been in a shop like yours. Your sweets are all so original! As soon as I walked in, I wanted to eat everything.”
The diversion had worked. Ginger smiled with delight.
“I’ve never i
magined doing anything else. What I like best is when the children come here after school. They pick their favorite candies with hungry eyes and leave beaming with happiness.”
“Where did you learn how to make candy and chocolate?”
“I took some classes in Paris with leading chocolatiers. But my mother and my grandmother taught me particular techniques and original recipes. They are family secrets handed down from generation to generation. My daughter, Valerie, will take my place when I’m no longer here.”
“That’s very touching.”
“I’m very proud of what we’ve accomplished. I like to please people with sweets. So, tell me, what will you have?”
“I was thinking of adding some chocolates to all this.”
She recommended some to add to my bag and even had me try a few right there in the shop.
“Thank you, Mrs. Wood.”
“Come on, none of that. Here, everyone calls me Ginger.”
“Thanks, Ginger. I think I have everything I could need. How much do I owe you?”
“Darling, you just got here, and what’s more, it was my dear Danny who sent you. The least I can do is offer you some sweets.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t—”
“I insist. Anyway, I still come out on top because when you’ve eaten all this, you’ll come back right quick to buy more from me!”
“Well, when you put it that way, I accept. I’ve got to get back, so until next time. And thank you.”
Ginger waved one last time as I closed the door behind me. It was time to return to the manor. I still had to write up the report on the events of the previous night, and I needed to do that before Phoenix got up at sunset, in an hour or so.
On the ride back, I turned on the radio and sang along, happy that my first exploration of Scarborough had been so satisfying.
I made hot chocolate and selected a few lollipops to fuel my work. I had already familiarized myself with my boss’s handwritten examples, so I knew how to present the reports and what to say, but I would be taking advantage of the computer to do it more quickly. I got down to it, printed everything when I was done, and left the dossier on the desk so that Phoenix could read it and then approve it (or not).
There was only a little time before sunset, so I used it to surf the web. I wanted to know more about these disappearances in Kerington County, particularly its biggest city. I’d unearthed a map of the area, and I was marking an X on all the places where the disappeared had last been seen or heard from. There were more in Kerington, which was logical because it had around 190,000 people, but the entire county had been affected. The majority of those reported had been young men and women in good health, both mentally and financially stable. The most horrible thing, besides the fact that some of these missing people were parents, was that the victim count was less than it should have been because not everyone who had been abducted was reported missing. As I searched the Internet and went through press clippings, I discovered that the rate of disappearances had started to increase four months earlier, peaking over the past two months. The detectives didn’t understand the motive behind these abductions: there were no demands, no ransom requests. Nothing but unanswered questions.
I really hoped that Phoenix would catch whoever was involved in this, but that wouldn’t be easy seeing how well planned and discreet the abductions appeared to be.
“For once I find you with your nose not stuck in a book. What are you doing?”
Phoenix’s arrival out of nowhere made me jump. I inhaled the piece of lollipop that I had in my mouth and almost choked. While I was coughing and tearing up, Phoenix settled comfortably in the chair across from me.
My voice hoarse, I said, “You could make a little noise to warn me that you’re there. You scare me every time. And I could’ve choked just then!”
“I did not put that lollipop in your mouth. From what I can see, you made the most of your outing to Scarborough.”
He was dressed more casually than usual. In fact, he had unbuttoned the top of his shirt and swapped his suit pants for a pair of black jeans. I think he could have dressed in garbage bags and he would have still been elegant. In comparison, I looked rumpled and badly dressed. He really could make a girl jealous.
“I had a lovely afternoon if you must know. I visited the town and I met some people. And I didn’t slip up once,” I announced proudly.
“Our alibi worked with your new acquaintances?”
“Yes, and you were right, they’re wondering what you look like. They call you the mysterious Peter. I told them you have trouble getting around, and I added that you have terrible social anxiety, and that convinced them. I wasn’t lying, really.”
“Elaborate on that, please.”
His honeyed tone set off alarms, but I continued.
“You said that you have friends, but I’ve never seen you visit them or them visit you, and you’re so addicted to work that it’s hard for you to relax. Lastly, I’m right here and you never talk about yourself.”
“Are you about to propose becoming my confidante?”
For a change, he raised his eyebrows, and for a change, that made my hackles rise.
“Listen, it’s been eight weeks since I got here. We’re going to spend a lot of time together in the future, unless I get myself stupidly killed, so maybe it would do you some good to talk to someone from time to time. Someone who knows your secret and who is not a vampire.”
He said nothing, content to just stare.
“Oh, forget it.”
A change of subject was necessary. “I was in the middle of mapping out the disappearances in the county. With Kiro’s information, there’s quite a bit to worry about. The whole region is affected, small towns and big cities alike.”
“Show me.”
He rose, came around the desk, and positioned himself behind me to look at my work. I didn’t know why, but that proximity made me uneasy. Phoenix didn’t breathe, but I thought I felt his breath on my neck. Before my heart started racing with discomfort, I decided it was time to retreat.
“Take my place. It’ll be easier. After all, it’s your desk,” I declared as I got up.
He did. He was silent for several minutes as he studied the map. “For now, I see no place that could serve as a base. This is a real conundrum.” Another silence, then he looked up at me. “This is good work. I appreciate your initiative. I suppose that your knowledge of computers helped, and not just to finalize the report I see there.”
“Tell me what you think. If you’ve been doing everything by hand for years, I can see why you loathe paperwork so much. I tried to be as precise as possible even though I doubt that the episode with Puffy and Pox will interest them.”
“I am satisfied to see that you are not mad at me.”
He had understood well what I was alluding to.
“Why would it interest them? So what do we have scheduled for this evening?”
“We are going to visit an old acquaintance.”
“Is this one of your friends you spoke of?”
I admit that I was curious to meet his friends.
“On the contrary, this vampire hates me, and if he could kill me, he would not hesitate for a single second.”
I felt a metaphoric ice cube slide down my spine. I was going to meet another vampire, and it happened to be one of the ones who, unable to lash out at Phoenix directly, would cut me into pieces while imagining I was my boss. Gulp. I had to make an effort to swallow.
“Why does he hate you?”
I was afraid to know the answer.
“For the simple reason that if he allowed himself to drink blood from the source, as he likes, I would flay him alive without the slightest hesitation.”
What was more shocking, imagining this vampire killing someone or hearing my boss calmly announce that he would rip the skin off him, quite literally?
“I see. I’ll have to check that I have everything I need to settle a score with an angry vampire.”
&nb
sp; “I do not want to kill him, just ask him some questions.”
“Do you think he knows something?”
“That is what we are going to find out. Go get ready.”
We had to go to the suburbs east of Kerington to find this man. The route was going to be long: likely there was an hour and a half of silence on my horizon. I’d brought my antivampire defense gear, and I’d decided to appear strong and useful and not show my fear.
“What can you tell me about this vampire apart from the fact he likes to drink from the source?” I asked.
“His name is Bill Miller. At one time, they called him Thirsty Bill. I do not think I have to explain why.”
I nodded to show I’d understood.
“He owns a strip club and has some ties with the local mafia. He is thirty years old. He has gathered together a small group of vampires who rejected the Great Change. They tried to create mayhem within the fragile equilibrium that was established in our community since we agreed to stop killing each other for humans. When his cohorts rebelled, and I tracked them down and eliminated them, he turned and ran. He let his men be killed in his place. That man is a coward as well as greedy and stupid.”
Clearly Phoenix hated this Thirsty Bill.
“Why do you say he’s stupid?”
“Instead of leaving the country and escaping the rules of the Great Change, he prefers to stay and dwell on his frustration.”
I must have missed something.
“Leave the country? I thought the Great Change applied everywhere.”
He waited a bit before answering.
“Only in sufficiently organized countries that could jeopardize the Secret.”
“What? And you’re only telling me this now?”
I was furious. It was completely ridiculous to have kept this crucial information from me. In eight weeks, he hadn’t thought to brief me on this? He must have already realized his error, for he seemed embarrassed.
Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1) Page 10
