Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Back at Steamy Sips, I took a seat at the empty counter. Breeze’s eyes widened. I must have looked as bad as I felt.
“What did you do to her?” she demanded, hands planted on her hips, as Dax pulled up a stool. Letting him come back with me had been the compromise we struck instead of me going down to the station to give a statement about the break-in. By "downtown" he meant five minutes down the road.
The station sat on the other side of the town square, just a few buildings away, next to the early childhood centre. Still, he’d have had to cuff me to get me there. Dax looked at me out of the corner of his eye, clearly trying to figure out what he could share. I gave him nothing.
“I’m fine, guys, really,” I said as I held a palm to each side of my forehead. They shared a look.
Breeze swung the tea towel she was dusting mugs with over her shoulder, never a day off for her it seemed.
She leaned on the counter with one hand. “What was the deal with the break-in then?”
I combed my fingers through my hair and let my gaze drift, unfocused, towards the kitchen.
“Teenagers, probably. I imagine it’s a laugh breaking into the spooky old children’s home for drinks.” I forced my mouth into something that vaguely resembled a smile.
“O-kay… coffee?” She asked, shooting Dax another deadly look before heading to the machine.
“Aren’t you closed today?”
“The coffee machine is never closed,” she replied dramatically.
“In that case, caffeine me up. And if you feel like throwing in some sugar, I won’t complain.” I offered her a more genuine smile, and her shoulders softened.
Breeze sure got attached to people quickly. She reminded me of a child who hadn’t yet been crushed by the world. The thought immediately made me feel guilty. She’d already lost both her parents, and I knew a little about that. I guessed people evolved differently around their wounds.
Dax leaned in closer. “We’ll do fingerprints this afternoon and change the locks so the place feels secure.”
I nodded. I didn’t really care. All I could think about were those videotapes. If they had still been in that wall cabinet, where were they now? What would someone do with them?
My face twisted as I imagined some creep in a dark room foaming at the mouth over kids in their pyjamas being abused.
Or worse still, I imagined having to make an in-depth statement about my experience if they were handed over to the police.
I knew I'd discovered an important reason to speak up about that place and Miss Lissy in particular, but I barely coped walking into the house today. I didn’t want to imagine what would happen if I had to identify five-year-old me on a grainy VHS.
“When’s your next date with Pissy Lissy?” Breeze had been more than willing to adopt her new name.
I groaned and rounded my forehead onto the counter. “Never. And when hell freezes over. And never?”
Sure, I knew I couldn’t actually stay away. Someone needed to monitor Ema. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t complain about it.
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you’ve got a mystery to solve, Harriet,” she replied.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Harriet the Spy,” she said, omitting the duh that was obvious in her tone.
“Oh, that Harriet,” I replied, though I was still none the wiser.
“You should have seen me back in the day. Sitting out on that bench across the road, scribbling furiously about everyone who walked past, hoping I’d witness something terrible.” She rubbed her hands together, eyes wide.
I lifted my forehead from the counter and frowned at her.
“You’d have made a skilled detective,” Dax said, his voice sarcastic. I’d nearly forgotten he was still here.
“I might have,” Breeze said, placing coffees in front of us both and waving away Dax’s neat stack of coins. “We’re closed today. And nope, it’s the Cinderella service life for me,” she sighed, leaning her back against the wall.
“Don’t be like that. We’re going to turn it around.” The “we’re,“ slipped out before I had time to think better of it. I still hadn’t figured out how.
“Are you thinking about sticking around, Riley Walls?” Breeze asked, her wide smile showing perfect teeth.
“Just long enough to solve my mystery and be that spy chick.”
She deflated a little. “Harr-i-et. You could stay though. It’s so freaking helpful having you here. Plus, Taco loves you.”
My mouth pricked up at the corners. “I love her too. But I’m out of here as soon as my business is done. And maybe a teensy bit longer to help you,” I added at the end, not being able to handle her tilting bottom lip.
“Yay!” she said, clasping her hands together. I noticed Dax smiling in my periphery, and it annoyed me although I couldn’t understand why except that most things about him annoyed me.
“Why do you have to see Lissy Fotherington?” Dax asked, his eyes fixed on me. It sounded weird hearing someone use her full name. I’d always assumed she was like all evil people and only needed one name. Like Voldemort, or the Joker.
“Unfinished business.”
“She’s trying to find out who left her the house,” Breeze answered for me as she filled up the coins in the till.
I would have kicked her if I could have reached. I settled for a death glare.
“What? He might be able to help. Don’t forget who he is,” she said, unaffected by my face.
I put my head in my hands. Silence filled the room, and a hand gently patted my back.
A subtle, slow vibration soothed me. Perhaps I was so exhausted from the way too public nervous breakdown to flinch like I would have, had anyone else come into my space without warning.
“Tell me, Miss Breeze, what are your plans with this place?” Dax asked, switching topics while he kept patting my back.
I ignored them both. Breeze started listing things on her fingers, which included burning the place down and steamrolling it. Dax gave my back one last pat and pulled away.
I missed it immediately.
What the hell was wrong with me?
I tried to shake it off. His cheekbones might win an award in this café, and he hadn’t freaked out over my breakdown. Still, the moment he opened his mouth, it all went downhill. Most men had that problem in my experience.
“What about all that space out the back?” Dax asked, and my head shot up.
“There’s an out the back?”
Breeze leaned her hip against the counter. “There was an out the back. I don’t know where it went,” she said, biting her bottom lip.
My mouth bobbed open. “Show me.”
As we followed her through the kitchen, Breeze pointed to a set of white double doors.
How had I not noticed them before? They would have come in handy when I was cleaning the oven and gassing myself out with chemical fumes.
Breeze hopped from foot to foot, not looking at the door. Dax and I exchanged looks.
“I can’t get it open, okay?” she blurted.
“So you just... stopped trying?” I asked, the amusement clear in my tone. I enjoyed when someone was having an equal amount of difficulty adulting as I was. Breeze dropped her head.
“How long ago?” Dax asked hesitantly.
Breeze snapped her neck up. “How long ago what?”
“Did you stop trying with the door?” he said, using my words.
Breeze chewed her bottom lip again. “A year-ish ago,” she squeaked. I turned around to cover my snort as Dax approached her quietly.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to what I hoped was going to expose Narnia. Breeze hopped from side to side again.
“No judgement,” he said, holding his palms up.
“Fine!” she groaned. “But remember that I saw you curled in the foetal position in your trash-filled townhouse after your last tour,” she said, looking at Dax and his cheeks filled red. “And you’re an emotional robot,” she shot in my direction.
Ouch, but not untrue. Breeze had a spicy side, and I was here for it.
After undoing the locks and giving the door several strong shoulder barges, it burst open.
My jaw dropped. A jungle of overgrown grass and tangled vines stretched up to the doorstep. I couldn’t see how far it went.
No one said a word.
“Needs a mow,” Breeze said casually, twirling her hair.
I burst out laughing.
We added taming the jungle to our ever-growing to-do list. Dax promised to return the following weekend to help. All that space was giving me an idea.
“Why does he have to come?” I grunted to Breeze after he’d gone.
“Because he has the mower. And all the tools. Have you seen those biceps? I can put those to good use,” she said, rolling out dough on the butcher’s block I’d oiled the night before.
“What’s your problem with him, anyway?”
“I don’t have a problem,” I muttered, rolling a dough ball between my fingers.
She rolled her eyes, unconvinced.
“He’s just so… so…”
“Hot? Helpful? Built like a Greek god?”
I scowled. “I was going to say annoying. If you think he’s so sexy, why don’t you date him?”
Breeze scrunched her nose, causing all her freckles to pull together. “He’s like ten years too old for me, and practically my brother. If someone remembers me in nappies, they’re family.”
Noted.
It was easy to forget she was only twenty-four. She’d inherited this place at nineteen. Her crash landing into adulthood had aged her in some ways. But her habit of ignoring problems and hoping they disappeared outed her age and only made her more relatable. The sort of human I liked.
“Are you still annoyed at him for talking loudly on a call in here?” She asked, brushing flour from her hands.
“No.” Yes.
She narrowed her eyes.
“You two probably have more in common than you think.”
“Doubtful. Very doubtful.”