Books line every shelf on the walls and the three freestanding bookcases. Tables are covered with laid-flat books displaying eye-catching covers. On the right-hand wall a narrow stairway leads up to the mezzanine floor.
While they busy themselves with chores they clearly knew were waiting, I wind down into a strange ennui where I realize I am lost. What am I doing here? I chose to stay in town to find out about Father’s murder, despite the threats I seem to face.
Yet I still don’t quite know what the vanished man was doing at my door. Sure, he had a weapon but maybe he wasvisiting me in the dead of night to sell me stamps, or something? Making light of that doesn’t help.
And Kail? He said he was sent to find me. That and the note from Dad is the sum of my knowledge. I need to dig up more.
Idly, I lean over a table and open a fantasy on vampires, assassins, and lost kingdoms, but I’m not really reading the words. I’m merely pretending and thinking.
Frankenstructs are real. I’ll need to say that a few more times before it sinks in. The how-can-that-be-possible, the science—that’s beyond me. Dad would’ve explained it.
Yeah. If I could wish him back into existence I would. I hold the book a little tighter, turn the page I do not see.
I may learn more if I discover where Dad’s cache is located. My neighbors want to help me. The danger, though. No matter that Ron and Molly agreed to let me stick around, if I get them killed, I will not forgive myself.
And I’ve no real plan as to what to do about that man-thing that calls himself Kail.
Man, my subconscious corrects. He is a man.
He thinks. He feels. If he’s made of human parts, he’s surely still a man. Would it be sacrilege, or something, to deny him humanity? Feels wrong to think otherwise.
He sure felt like one when he handled me.
I inhale shakily. That was some awesome handling.
Sounds reawaken me to where I am. I close the book, arrange it so it’s perfectly aligned to the books beside it.
“What would you like me to do?” I ask Molly. She’s unlocking the front door. A customer waits, a woman with two children in tow.
“Well.” She pauses with her hand on the lock. “We brought you here as it seemed wise. Safer. You can unpacksome books out the back, but also, I feel we need to get you involved in a club we have going. Ron?”
He looks up, cocks his head, twirling a pen in the fingers of one hand. “The Weirdos Club? We do meet at the Maelstrom bar, tonight. It’s a book club with other secret aims, like figuring out all the weird things in Revenant.” He seems to expect an answer from me. They both do.
“Sure.” I don’t know what else to say, and it can’t hurt. Secret aims, when they’re just blurting that out to anyone? It will be some amateur get-together, though I’m an amateur at this myself.
“Good.” Molly turns the lock and pulls at the door. “And we are milking you for all the tea later.”
The tea? Customers spill inside, kids toddling about. One of them finds a hidden box of toys that must be there to amuse the children while Mom finds a good read. The mother smiles at Molly and me but not Ron, as he’s ducked low and is tap-tapping away already.
She wants the tea, as in the scandalous gossip. I’m not entirely sure if Kail is anything that tame.
Amateur sleuth club meet killer. He does look like one. In my mind, I’ve been cataloguing the scars on his fine body, endlessly, ever since he departed. I may fear him, but he fascinates me, same as a bright burning fire would attract a damn stupid moth.
That missing man has not been found, there’s no local news of him, and Kail was utterly unconcerned by any thoughts of him turning up. Why? He’s dead. That makes two deaths in total.
I’m out of my depth. I know this.
I don’t care.
Unpacking books requires merely an hour of work. Whenlunch comes around, I’ve been huddled in a corner upstairs reading through one of the latest, greatest fantasies,Swords of Love. The title is shockingly suggestive and within a half a chapter a lot of swords of love have been sheathed and unsheathed, mostly inside the heroine. She’s on board with this, squirming in joy one might say. I’m pretty sure wishing I had a vibe with me is inappropriate, and I’ve done zero planning on my investigation.
My stomach and head are much improved.
I’ve not barfed over a single page.
I’ve also seen no signs ofhimin the crowd passing the shop. I’m torn between thinking that is good and imagining the bad things he might do to me. Bad, but good…things.
The salad, then the coffee and cake I get at the bakery-cross-curbside café across the road are welcome. TheCLOSEDsign Molly and Ron left hanging on their door must be normal for them at lunch. A few people have shouted greetings.
