Little Moments

by K. J. Emrick

  Now, turns out it he was an accomplice to murder.

  Chapter 11

  Maybe there was an explanation. Mister Brewster might’ve thought he was being helpful. He might’ve just wanted to give directions to someone who needed them.

  By pointing out the room of the Parliamentary Secretary.

  To a man carrying a knife.

  Right…

  My mind is still trying to make up excuses for him as I pull into the carpark of the Inn and take the short steps at the front all in one jump. Maybe Mister Brewster didn’t see the knife. Maybe he didn’t realize what Harry Kewell intended to do. Maybe, and maybe, and maybe.

  In my experience with Mister Brewster, I’ve found him to be creepy, and I’ve found him to be antisocial, but I’ve never found him to be stupid. I have the feeling that he knew exactly what Harry Kewell was about when he directed him to that room.

  Which then begs the question, why point him in the direction of his target, instead of chasing him out of the Inn, or calling me, or dialing 000 for the love of God?

  I’m afraid I know the answer. I hope I’m wrong.

  I’ve been all the help I can, I suppose. That was what he said when he poked his head up to see what the commotion was, when we’d found Jackson Fillmore dead. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. I sure was thinking something about it now.

  Kevin said he’d be right along but he’s going to be held up directing his people what to do with their three prisoners. Let Stephanie Collette go, with a huge apology, now that they know she’s not involved in the murder in any way. Arraign Thornton Dunfosse on charges for stealing all of that money that rightfully belonged to the taxpayers of Tasmania. Might have to turn that one over to the Australian Federal police, but they can at least start the process of charging him here. And, arraign Harry Kewell for the murder. Busy day, especially for Lakeshore.

  All of the Lakeshore PD officers are back there helping out. My daughter, too, and I heard somebody hint that maybe she’d be a good pick for that civilian dispatcher position. She’d be answering phones, helping with paperwork, that sort of thing. I think getting herself a job would be just grand.

  She’d been making eyes at Ben Isling when I left. I figure it’s a fair go that she’ll accept the position since it means more time with Ben. Things are finally looking right way round for my daughter. I figure we can go out tonight to the Thirsty Roo and celebrate everyone’s good fortune.

  Just as soon as I knock some sense into Mister Brewster’s head. Kevin will be a bit. That gives me time to ask him some very pointed questions.

  Janus has taken over at the front desk, and he greets me with his usual, “G’day, Miss Dell,” but all I have time for now is a nod in his general direction and a promise I’ll be back soon to go over things with him. Up the stairs I go, right to Mister Brewster’s room on the first floor, and give it hard couple of knocks.

  The door swings inward as I do, unlocked and open.

  Well. Hadn’t exactly been expecting that. “Mister Brewster?”

  “Come in, Dell. I’ve been expecting you.”

  His voice is dry as the red dirt in the Outback, but not unfriendly. I find him sitting over to the side in the room, in the chair next to the window. I’ve never been in Mister Brewster’s room before. I’m sure the housekeepers have been, because it’s my policy that the rooms are cleaned on a regular basis whether they’re occupied or not, but I’m struck by just how tidy it is in here.

  This room’s been the exclusive residency of Mister Brewster for the last few years, but it looks as if no one has actually been here in all that time. The sheets on the bed are perfectly square. There’s not a single personal knick-knack anywhere. There’s no garbage in the bin. There are no clothes hanging in the open closet. There is, however, a thin layer of dust on the bedside table, and the dresser, and maybe everywhere.

  Before I can ask him about it, I notice the leather satchel at his feet. It’s faded and worn, and obviously well used, the kind with straps that fold over the top and then buckle in place. I can’t remember if I’ve seen him use it before, or not.

  “Are you leaving us?” is the first question that pops into my mind.

  “Yes, I’m afraid I am,” he says with an arch of his eyebrow. “Disappointed to see me go?”

  “Well…” Honestly, I don’t know how that makes me feel. “Maybe I’d feel worse about it if I didn’t think you knew more about Jackson Fillmore’s death than you let on to us.”

  He laughs. It’s an honest, heartfelt sound that I find completely out-of-sorts with what I know about Mister Brewster. My hand slips up to my unicorn necklace, and holds it tight, somehow needing the comforting press of it against my palm. For a moment I almost backtrack out of the room, but I hold my ground instead. Kevin will be here soon to ask some official questions, but if this man had anything to do with the death of someone in my Inn, I want to know about it.

  “Oh, Dell,” he says when the laughing fit passes. “You always were so very smart. That’s what I’ve liked about you. I have to say, I’ve truly enjoyed my time here at the Pine Lake Inn. Thank you, sincerely.”

  I take a few more steps inside, my feet seeming to move of their own accord. “Thank you? For what?”

  “For all the help you’ve given me over the years. Things you probably don’t even remember. Mostly, thank you for taking care of things that left me free to do my own work. I can’t exactly get involved with every death in Australia. Can you imagine the sort of time that would take out of my day? No. I needed to do my work, and I thank the stars above that there’s people such as yourself around to pick up the slack so I can put my attention where it belongs.”

  “What work?” I feel like I’ve asked this before, but I can’t remember what the answer might have been. “What is it you do, exactly, Mister Brewster?”

  “Hmm. How do I put this?” He taps a finger against his lips, and then smiles behind it. “Let’s put this way. Say there was a man. Let’s call him Jackson. So, say there was a man named Jackson who was a member of the Tasmanian government, and that man was considering a policy shift that would seem innocent enough, but would ultimately put Australia on the road to war with Asia. A war that would drag in Europe first as a defensive measure, and then as an occupying force backed by the countries of Britain, Canada, and the United States. Would you like to live in a world like that, Dell?”

  “Well, no. Of course not.”

  His smile is grateful. Apparently, that was the right answer. “Of course you wouldn’t. Now, let’s assume that the only way to keep Australia from being set on this particular road to World War Three, was to kill the man responsible. This Jackson fellow. Would killing him be the right choice?”

  Was killing ever the right choice? He was setting up the same hypothetical question that any number of people had puzzled over for generations. If you could go back in time to kill Hitler and stop World War Two, the holocaust, and all of that… would you do it?

  “You’re saying,” I pause for a breath, trying to wrap my mind around this, “that Jackson Fillmore was going to create new policy that would have led to a devastating war, and you helped Harry Kewell murder him to stop all that?”

  He claps his hands together slowly, clap, clap, clap. “Bravo. That is the nature of my work. That is the sort of thing I have done, from behind the scenes, for more years than you would believe.”

  “But… but you can’t possibly know any of that would happen!”

  His silvery eyes sparkle. “People don’t know these things, Dell. I do. That’s the way we like it. I, and the others like me. We know more things about Heaven and Earth than are dreamt about in modern philosophy. Or something like that. You get the gist.”

  He stands up, shouldering his satchel, and starts toward the door. I know I should stop him. I know I should delay him with more questions, stand between him and the hallway, and make him wait until Kevin can get here, but my traitorous feet still aren’t working and no
w I’m suddenly rooted to the floor. “But you can’t… you can’t just go around killing people because you think they’re going to make a bad decision!”

  “Of course I can,” he says with a grin. “In fact, I have to stop men like that. I simply have to. You see, starting wars that devastate half the planet and decimate the human race… that is my job. Can’t let anyone else take away my fun, now can I?”

  As I stand there, unable to move and not understanding why, the light around me goes slowly dim. It’s like I’m going to sleep, but I’m still awake. So many questions I want to ask, and yet all I can do is stand here, and watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him.

  When he’s gone, I hear his voice whispering in my ear.

  “Goodbye, Dell. You won’t remember me, but I will never forget you.”

  In the blink of an eye, the lights are on again, and my Kevin is standing there with me. “Mom?”

  I blink, and look around, and wonder why I’m standing here in this empty room. Wasn’t I doing something? I was supposed to be talking to someone about… something important. Just can’t remember what.

  “Hey, Kevin.” I try to cover for my momentary lapse of memory—what was I doing here?—by smiling at him and fussing with the already perfect corner of the bedspread. “What’re you doing here?”

  “I came up to get ya,” he says. “Had to ask at the front desk where to find ya. We’re going out to dinner to celebrate a great end to a sticky mystery, remember? Just got off the phone with the Governor’s office, and he couldn’t be happier with things. Wanted to pass on his personal thanks to everyone who worked so hard to get this done so quick, and I figure that includes the great Dell Powers. Good news, right? Come on now, Carly’s waiting for us. Ben Isling, too.”

  That surprises me a little. “He’s coming to dinner with us?”

  “Yeah, guess he and Carly are a little further along their relationship than any of us knew. Ellie’s coming too and bringing our wonderful son so you can have some time with your grandbaby. Come on, we’ll be late.”

  Late? What time was it? I checked my watch and sucked in a breath to realize I’d somehow lost several hours out of my day. Well. Guess I was more tired than I realized. Wish I could remember what I’d come into this room for. Everything’s fine here, although the place could use a good dusting. Have to get my housekeepers on it. Later. Right now, I was going out to dinner with my children, and we were going to have a great time. Best of all, we weren’t going to mention anything about murder, or anything of the sort.

  Out in the hallway, I find Jess’s spirit waiting to give me a high-five. She’s happy that things have worked out, and even though my hand passes right through hers, I return the gesture with enthusiasm. Kevin just gives me a look. He knows about the ghosts in the Inn. Maybe he can’t see them, but he likes this part of who I am.

  “Haven’t seen Dad recently, have ya?” he asks, knowing that his father’s spirit is around and about as well.

  “He’s been quiet for a while,” I tell him. “Maybe I’ll get a call from him tonight or hear a whisper. Anything you want me to tell him if I do?”

  He chews on his lip as we start down the stairs to the main floor. “Maybe just hello. And that his grandson looks a lot like him. Think he’d like to know that?”

  I put my hand on my son’s shoulder. “Yes. I think he’d like that very much.”

  At the bottom of the stairs I stop, and look back up, feeling for a moment like I’ve forgotten something. Really don’t know what it would be. It feels like there should be someone standing there, someone I know really well but who I can’t put a name to. Maybe I was expecting to see Jackson Fillmore’s ghost up there, telling me good job for finding his killer. Doesn’t always work that way, though. If there was a ghost on Earth for everyone who died, even for everyone who died violently, there wouldn’t be any room left for the living. I figure Fillmore’s at peace now. He did good work for the people of Tasmania and he was killed because he loved a woman. Those will be the things he’s remembered for.

  I figure that’s the way it should be.

  “Are you driving?” I ask Kevin.

  “Sure. This is going to make quite the story for James, don’t ya think?”

  “Oh, we like James again, do we?” I tease.

  “Sure. He didn’t abandon my Mom after all, and he came back just in time to help us solve this murder. Can’t hate a guy like that, now can I?”

  That was true. The ups and downs James and I have experienced in our life together have all led us here, to where the man literally fought his way across a continent to get back to me. He’s got quite the story to tell me, in his own time, and Kevin’s right. This is going to make a great news story once James has it written up. He’s a good man, and I’m glad he’s mine.

  I’m going to miss him at dinner tonight, but afterward I’ll be heading up to see him in hospital. That will be the best ending to a crazy day that any woman could ask for.

  “Hey Kevin,” I say as we get into his car. “Have you ever seen a penguin in Lakeshore…?”

  Epilogue

  In James’s hospital room, I sit in the uncomfortable chair with the wooden arms and the leather back, and I watch him take copious notes on everything I’ve told him. He’s writing it by hand in a notebook that I brought him, and he looks just like a little kid who’s been given the best gift ever.

  It’s late in the day now, after ten o’clock, and technically visiting hours are over but the nurses here all know me. They won’t mind forgetting I’m here for another hour or two. So long as I don’t push it.

  “This is incredible,” James tells me as he slaps a period on the sentence he just finished. “I can’t believe all the things I miss when I’m not around Lakeshore.”

  “Like me?” I dare to ask.

  The smile he gives me is genuine. “Definitely. I was serious before. I don’t plan on leaving Lakeshore again.”

  “You sure that’s because of me? Or is it because of what happened to you over in East Timor?”

  A shadow eclipses his smile. He’s sitting in bed with the head raised up and pillows stacked behind him, and even so he looks suddenly uncomfortable. “It wasn’t pleasant, Dell. I can tell ya that. Things in that country have been getting progressively worse of late. Violence against foreigners. Civil unrest. That sort of thing. Hard to believe there’s still places in the world that fix their problems with violence.”

  I nod my agreement with that. “I can believe it, actually, considering we just had another murder here that was fueled by violence and jealousy. There’s still plenty of people around who think violence solves everything.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I ran into.” He takes a breath, and then starts to open up. “A street gang found out I was a reporter and decided that holding me for ransom was a great way to make money. There’s so much unemployment over there now, that the young people find it easier to use violence to make a buck than chase jobs that don’t pay a living wage.”

  I reach out and took his hand, careful of the bandages around his ribs. “That’s the James I know and love. Always looking for the good in people even when they’re beating him up.”

  “Yeah, well, these guys have it rough.” He shrugged, and then winced at the pain it caused him. “Tell ya what, though. There’s plenty of stories there to be told.”

  “I’m not really interested in helping them out after what they did to you.” My fingers caress his, and I take a couple of breaths to calm down. “They took you right off the street? And then they just kept you there? What did they want?”

  “Ransom, like I said. They kept demanding the name and number of the people I work for. Well, couldn’t very well do that, so I stalled them, and pretended to be too hurt to talk, then I kept giving them the wrong contact information until I found a way to get out. Then I had to work my contacts to get a flight out of the country on a cargo plane. I had to stay in hiding for three days before the plane could leave. I tell
ya, Dell. It gives a guy a lot to think about.”

  “Like what?” I ask, my voice quiet.

  “Like, how I might never see you again. I had to get back. I just had to. That was all that mattered. Not the story, not the assignment, none of it. Just you.”

  Wow. Just… wow. “Sounds like you’ve got a story of your own to tell the papers.”

  “Yeah, I do. Got interviews with my editor set up for tomorrow, actually. For tonight, I’m thinking about something else.”

  “Oh yeah… what?”

  “The things that are the most important,” he says.

  “And what’s that?”

  His smile is back in full force now, and it makes his face absolutely gorgeous, even under the bruises. “Take a look in the drawer for me. That one right there.”

  He untangles his hand from mine, and points at the nightstand next to his bed. It’s only got one drawer, and when I open it up there’s a bunch of papers and a plastic bag that has a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste inside. Normal things you might see in a hospital room. Then I see the other thing, which is what he must want me to see.

  It’s a little blue felt box, no bigger than the palm of my hand. I reach for it, and pick it up, curious to know what James could possibly have in this…

  Oh, snap.

  Could it be? Could it really be?

  “Had a buddy of mine pick it up,” James explains. “I’ve had my eye on it for a while now but just haven’t had… you know, the time. No, that’s a lie. I didn’t realize how much Dell Powers meant to me, until now. I can’t let another day slip by without ya, Dell. Not anymore. Every time I think of me, I think of us. The two of us, together. So, if ya could do me just one more favor, and open that box up?”

  I can feel my mouth dropping open. He’s really doing this. He’s really here, promising to be with me forever, and when I open this box, I’m going to find…