20
S elkie’s hands shook nervously as the kitchen manager showed her how to fill and power the commercial dishwashers. I leaned against the doorframe, hoping she’d notice me but enjoying her fumbling. Everything she picked up, she almost dropped in those shaky hands, and her words caught in her throat whenever she spoke.
The creature before me was a stark difference to the vivacious mermaid in the natural water spring, but I liked her nonetheless. When I opened the door for Petra Black at college, she’d forgotten that she’d gotten the job on the back of a fake ID. Of course, the real reason was that I overrode Betty’s decision, and looking at Petra's fumble and trip, I might regret that decision.
She’s cute, though. Very cute. The more I studied her, the more I wanted to get closer to her, just for a glimmer of the selkie.
“We need your hair tied up,” the kitchen manager told her and Selkie’s cheeks burned red.
“I’m sorry. I forgot to do that before I arrived,” she stuttered and turned in my direction. As soon as she locked eyes on me, her lips parted in horror, her eyes glazed over as if she was about to cry, and those sweet cheeks burned some more.
I was obviously making her feel uncomfortable, and although part of me enjoyed intimidating her, I didn’t want the selkie’s trembling hands to drop the expensive dishes. So, I went upstairs to revise course material for the year, my last year at Gotland, thank fuck, with the intention of returning to the kitchen in an hour.
This was my favorite time of the evening when the staff rushed in and set the place up before the members arrived after 5 PM. The echoes of clinking plates and cutlery were like music to my ears.
I paused at Mikky’s office, but I could hear him talking on the phone, so I retreated to my windowless office, where a stack of folders and textbooks waited for me to go through. I had to write a ten-thousand-word thesis this year on business analytics—kill me now. My eyes were growing wary thinking about it. I won’t receive my degree without it, and since the Kaiser Estate was paying for my tuition, I better do a good job.
Between revising the workload, I checked the security surveillance on my laptop. Apart from the bathrooms, every room and hallway had security cameras, which was a good way to oversee staff and detect thefts, break-ins, or any other dubious behavior by staff or members. If a member was too handy with one of the staff, his membership was immediately revoked and banned. That was Mr. Kaiser’s rule.
I clicked on the kitchen cameras and watched live staff clean the surfaces and prepare food for the members' dinner shift. Selkie, with her hair in a ponytail, rushed about, trying to do her best. Quickly, I became mesmerized by her swinging ponytail and uneasiness, constantly second-guessing if she was doing everything correctly. It was day one of the job, and she’ll improve.
Mikky knocked at my office door, breaking the spell. I reduced the security footage so he couldn’t tell I was perving at the staff.
“Just got the phone with the PI,” he said, placing his hands on the back of the chair as his eyes glided over my course material spread across the desk.
“Yeah?” I asked hopefully. He was hired a week ago, so I wasn’t expecting anything this soon. “Has he got any juice?”
He shook his dark head and seemed distracted. “No, but he spoke to Sylvia and wants to speak to you next.”
“That’s fine. Whatever it takes to find out who killed Mr. Kaiser. Seriously, Mikky, I’d do anything,” I meant it. I owed that man my life, but something was bugging Mikky that he needed to spit out.
“Yeah, I know,” Mikky exhaled as his narrowed dark stared at a spot on the desk. He wasn’t looking at anything because I could tell his mind was elsewhere.
“Did the PI, what’s his name, say something to piss you off?” I tried to prise it out of him.
“No,” he replied assertively. “Something he said didn’t quite add up about the timing.”
“What do you mean? What are we talking about here? Timing of what?” I pressed because it wasn’t like Mikky to be so abstract with his language.
He rubbed his unshaven jaw, still staring at the spot on the desk. “I don’t know, maybe it’s me. Maybe I got it wrong.”
“Got what wrong? C’mon Mikky, just say what’s bugging you.” It was like squeezing water from a rock, but obviously, he was perturbed by whatever was discussed with the PI.
“As I said, I might be reading into it, but where was Sylvia when Uncle Lars was shot?” he fired the blow, which left me a little dumbstruck.
“Huh. I didn’t expect you to say that,” I exclaimed, wondering where he was going with this. “She was at home with…Gunner and the girl.”
“The girl, Annika,” his jaw pulsated from clenching. That girl. That name. “Sylvia said the girl and Gunner were home the night of the shooting. That story never changed.”
“Yeah, so we knew the girl was lying all along because Sylvia said she never left her room, and her bedroom was at the back of the house, so there was no way she could’ve been a witness to the murder,” I added. “What did the PI…what the fuck is his name?”
“Danny Lam,” he reminded me.
“What did Lam say that’s got you all riled up?” I needed to know.
“Sylvia said to the PI she went out for an hour to get some food for dinner,” he stated, and his words seemed to linger in the air before crashing down.
“But she was home when Mr. Kaiser was murdered in the front yard?” I proposed since the whole night had become hazy to me.
I wasn’t there. I was working at the club in Larsson. The only people that could’ve been witnesses were Gunner, the girl, Sylvie, and neighbors. Two neighbors reported seeing a black van pull up outside their house at about 5.30 PM, and Mr. Kaiser walked to the van to talk to someone inside. That’s when he was shot. The neighbors believed whoever was in the van shot him because they took off immediately afterward. We had no idea why Mr. Kaiser spoke to the people in the van, but the neighbors assumed that Mr. Kaiser knew them. We didn’t know anyone who owned a van of that style back then, and still, to this day, that van hasn’t been discovered.
He released his grip on the back of the chair, stood over, and started making his way to the door. “I don’t know, Ronan. But if she lied about not going out, what else did she lie about?”
“Ah, c’mon, Mikky,” I groaned. “She’s your aunty. Mrs. Kaiser would never…”
“You know, I thought about that night so many times while lying in that flea-infested prison, and ah, you know, so much went around and around in my head.” He turned the handle on the door. “Just forget I said anything.”
“Like that will ever happen,” I mumbled. His accusation left me cold as if he sucked the air out of the room. I could never envision Mrs. Kaiser involved in Mr. Kaiser’s death. Never. She loved that man, and they were the perfect couple. Nah, he’s got it wrong, or maybe Danny Lam heard it wrong.
There was another knock at my door, but the knock wasn’t familiar this time. Everyone knew the rules. No one came up here unless explicitly instructed by us – Mikky and I.
“Enter,” I called bluntly to scold whoever came here without my permission. The conversation with Mikky put me in a reflective mood, and I wasn’t interested in talking with anyone.
The handle turned, followed by a scraping and bumping sound, so I propelled off my seat to see what it was. When I flung the door open, a sweet-face girl wearing glasses, cheeks flushed, tried to wrangle her way around the serving trolley.
“I’m sorry,” she stuttered and hopped from one foot to the other nervously. “Betty sent me up here with your dinner.”
“Betty? Did she now.” My frown was quickly replaced with a grin shining from within—good ol’ Betty.
Under my stare, she fumbled over the trolley and pulled out the tray with one hand because the other was wrestling with the trolley door. She lost her grip on the tray, and I stepped forward to rescue it before the plate of food slid off.
“You’re new at this,” I chuckled, totally entertained by her clumsiness.
“Um, yes,” she admitted, even though I already knew. “First day.”
“Do you want to come inside?” I suggested, opening the office door wider so she could step in.
“No,” she shook her head, looking horrified. “I’m expected downstairs.”
“They can wait,” I insisted.
“It’s my first day. I can swan about on my first day,” she argued, avoiding my eyes as those cheeks blazed in pink and the lens of her glasses fogged up.
“No, no. I’m the floor manager. I like a chat with all the new staff,” I lied to lure her in.
Her feet seemed glued to the floor, unable to move in any direction, including away from me, so I gently wrapped my hand around her small wrist and pulled her into my lair. Her skin was cool, and she reminded me of a terrified fledgling fallen from the nest, wide-eyed and vulnerable to the horrors of the outside world.
I had no intention of hurting her, but I did intend to get to know her a little better.
Selkie started when I closed the door behind her, so I moved away to let her breathe and placed the plate of food on my desk. “Are you hungry?”
“No,” she stammered, clasping her shaking hands together, refusing to move away from the door.
I sat down, gestured for her to take them to the other side of the desk, opened my drawer, and took out a clean fork. “You take that fork, and I’ll have this one.”
“I’m…not hungry,” she trembled.
“Look, if you’re worried about Betty, I can message her to say you’ll be down in ten minutes after this meeting. Ten minutes, okay. That’s all I’m asking from you.”
“Meeting?” her rosy, full lips quivered, and I found it difficult to pull my gaze away from them because the urge to snatch her in my arms and kiss those lips was profound.
But I was a man with good control, so I will not be touching her today. Tomorrow, on the other hand, might be a different story as there was only so long a man can keep his hands to himself. The motivation was to draw out Selkie because she was a force to reckon with.
“Yeah, meeting. I normally have a short meeting with new staff to make sure we’re on the same page and you’re in the right job,” I was so convincing that I almost fooled myself.
She swallowed as her thumb began scratching the palm of her other hand. The nerves were getting to her.
“Take a seat,” I urged her, using a more officious tone so she’d move away from the door.
Finally, she stepped forward and dragged out the chair opposite, and parked her sweet ass down. I took the cover off the plate to find mushroom risotto underneath and gestured to Selkie. “You like risotto?”
“Um, I haven’t tried it,” she replied as her fingers twitched toward the fork. Her nostrils flared, and I suspected that she was genuinely hungry.
I beckoned her to pick up the fork and take a scoop while I messaged Betty to thank her for the little surprise and tell her she’d be down in ten minutes after I chatted with her.
Betty: Be gentle. She’s a sweetie.
Me: I promise.
“So, how’s your schooling going?” I asked her as she took tiny, polite bites of rice, then bashfully pressed her fingers against her lips as if she were worried that an escaped grain of rice would land on her chin.
Under my stare, she fiddled with her glasses nervously before answering, “I just started, and it’s good…hmm.” A slight hum exuded from her lips, and my heart stirred.
“What are you studying?” I pressed, eager to know what her interests and career plans were.
“Um,” hummed again, “Marine biology.”
“Oh, okay, that’s interesting.” That was very interesting. My selkie seemed comfortable in the water because she studied it while I studied her. “Are you a good swimmer?”
She nodded and hummed again. That cute little noise caused havoc in my chest and pants. She’s trouble, oh, yes, she was trouble.
“Do you like wild swimming, like in the ocean, lake, or whatever?” I kept pressing, getting closer to the crux of my cause.
“Um, I only just moved here, but we’ll be going on ocean trips as part of the school curriculum to study sea organisms,” she smiled for the first time since she walked in, and a skyrocket exploded against my ribcage. What a pretty smile.
When she glanced up under those glasses, she noticed me watching her closely, and that smile vanished, replaced with fear. I thought she didn’t have much experience with men, but then she was probably only nineteen or twenty. Some girls took longer to feel comfortable in their own skin to allow them to touch them.
“Sounds interesting,” I replied.
“You mean, it sounds boring,” she argued, revealing a touch of a fiery nature, which was welcomed.
“Not at all. I like to head out to the forest and get lost sometimes to forget all my problems,” I explained. She stopped midstream, holding her rice-loaded fork in the air, entranced by every word I spoke.
“Do you have problems?” she asked a peculiar question, but I guess she looked at my surroundings and assumed I came from money.
“Yeah, I got problems,” I told her.
“Like what?” she asked.
I paused for a second. “Let's play a game. I’ll tell you one problem I have, and you tell me one problem you have,” I suggested.
She hesitated as fear drained the color from her cheeks, as those eyes suspiciously searched the room for something. Perhaps she was looking for a scythe or a Glock to use against her. She had been hurt a lot, this one. “Um, okay,” she replied with doubt, swallowing nervously.
I faltered for a few seconds, deciphering what to tell her and how open I should be with my personal life at this early stage of the meeting. But she’d relax a little if I was frank with her.
“Okay, so my mom is an addict,” I went straight for the complex, emotional stuff, hoping to convince her that I was trustworthy.
She fell quiet and played with the rice with her fork as if churning on a thought. “Same,” she finally answered, then made a strange face as if she instantly regretted confessing it.
“Really? So…where is she now?” I gently pushed, hoping her armor would drop.
“Um, I don’t know…It’s hard to talk about,” an abstract, confusing answer. “What about you? Do you still speak to your mom?” Those bright green eyes twinkled in curiosity. I’d never seen that color before.
That heavy burden landed in my chest when the topic of my family arose. Mikky and Gunner knew not to mention that topic much because it got me down, but not talking about my mom didn’t stop me from thinking about her. Every time I spoke to her, I’d need to retreat somewhere alone, usually in the forest, to assimilate the disgust that came with it.
“Sometimes.” My phone buzzed and flashed Betty’s name. Gritting my teeth, I opened her message, knowing she wouldn’t contact me unless necessary. Damn. “Betty said they need you down in the kitchen.”
“Oh,” she swiftly pushed the chair back as if she couldn't get out of there fast enough. “Um, thank you.”
“Sure,” I replied, watching her go and liking how she moved. Four minutes with her was long enough to know that I wanted more. More of Petra Black and more of Selkie.