Celia nods.“Sure enough.But every soul must be indoors before twilight each day, too.And we’re only allowed out again once the cock crows.”
I just can’t imagine an island full of doomsday preppers and homesteaders agreeing to abide by the laws laid down by a gang of hairy bikers!
“Why must there be a curfew?Surely that can’t be good for business at the inn.”
Shrugging, Celia pushes the map over to me.“The system works.You won’t complain so much once you’ve got a crowd of summer hikers locked inside the inn doors with only beer drinking to amuse them.We’ve had a few rule breakers through the years, but every visitor has to sign a waiver before they are allowed on the jetty, so no one gets into trouble.”
I’m dying to know more, but I can see Celia glancing sideways at her teapot with a longing look.
“One more question, please, Celia.How long have the Riders been here—in Landslide?”
I’m about to tell her that I’ve met Dante already, but something stops me.
“They have been on the island as far back as I can remember.I am Linda Farmer’s great aunt on her grandmother’s side.Harry came to pitch woo to me over forty years ago, God bless him.I moved here from Canada and haven’t set foot off the island since.The Riders have been here all that time.They were young fellas then, but my, oh my, haven’t those men aged well?!”
Yes, Celia, I can agree, at least as far as my brief acquaintance with Dante goes!There is no way he’s upwards of fifty plus!I can’t believe it.
I’m just going to come right out and say what I’m thinking.
“Do they have girlfriends?Wives?”
“They keep their partners in Canada and the States.At least, that’s what they tell us.The MC President, Dante Sylva—that’s S-Y-L-V-A—told me he has a son.I’m happy for him.Well, someone has to be.The man always seems to be in a permanent bear-head state!”
That scans.I think Dante could be a total grump if he wanted to be.But there is a realye oldeworldecharm about the man, too.
Thanking Celia, I pick up the cardboard box of groceries and take them out to my car.I’m starting to see Landslide in a whole new light.
Is the chalet inn situated next to the Landslide equivalent of a police station?Is that what Tempest was trying to warn me about in her notebook?Something about the MC keeping the peace here, even though they might be as bad as the criminals.
Pressing the hatchback gas pedal to the floor, the vehicle kicks up a dust as it grinds uphill.Parking as close to the porch stairs as I can, I stagger to the front door with the groceries in my arms.
I’m about to put the box down so I can turn the doorknob when I notice it’s already open.
All my old fears flood back.Maybe the Midnight Riders haven’t got Landslide as securely locked down as they think?
And then I remember what Celia told me about boundaries.Something tells me the consequences of ignoring them might be severe.
Scoffing, I kick the door open and limp to the kitchen.My ankle’s healing nice enough for me to put a fair bit of weight on it.
Worrying about crime is what the locals would call “city thinking.”But the city slicker part of me finds it hard to suppress my natural survival instincts no matter how paranoid they seem.
“If anyone is in here, I just want you to know that I’m an expert at karate and I’m standing by the kitchen drawer with the knives in it!”
If I’m honest, I’ve been coasting off those after-school martial arts lessons I had in seventh grade for the last twenty years.The bulk of my self-defense I learned from my dad.
Packing away the groceries, I notice a bundle of letters in the cardboard box.Flicking on the kettle, I move to the couch while frowning at the thick bundle.Has Tallie gotten back to me already?That was quick.Maybe communicating via mail isn’t so bad after all.
The string comes away easily when I pull at the knot.About twenty different kinds of sealed envelopes fall onto my lap.
T.Aherne
Innkeeper
Chalet Inn
Landslide
? Angle Inlet Postal Service
