It Takes a Killer (2 page)

Jonathan nodded once, a habit he’d always had since he was in the Navy.  Mariana’s lips pursed and she gave a small, “Mm-hm.”

As Hannah moved towards the kitchen Mariana spoke louder.  “How about we go out?  It’s just sort of…small in here.”

Hannah furrowed her brow in exactly the same way as Jonathan.  Too deeply for a woman, according to her mother.  It gave Hannah’s dark eyes too serious a gaze…too judging.  Too predatory.  Hannah let out a little gasp at that thought and nodded her agreement; one nod was all she could manage.  She checked the rose-gold watch around her right wrist.  “You’re right.  How about Stormi’s?”

Mariana let out a long breath.  “I could really go for one of her chocolate scone’s.”

Stormi’s was a quaint little ice cream shop that served just about whatever was ordered.  While their logo was a white cloud atop an ice cream cone, they would give you a pasta plate with breadsticks if you asked.  And because of that fact it was always bustling with people trying to trip up the staff—though it hadn’t happened since the hot-sauce fiasco of 1948.  It was always loud, with kids and adults alike making as complicated an order as they could.  Hannah had never given the noise much thought, because she liked it.  It was nice to hear some noise after living in such a silent household.

So when she walked through the front doors of Stormi’s and the only thing she heard was the echo of the little bell over her head her heart nearly stopped.  She felt it skip a beat, a temporary lapse in judgment at the presence of perceived danger.

All eyes were on her.  Every single person in the cafe, customer and staff alike were watching her, Mariana, and her father walk inside.  But while she could smell Mariana’s flowery perfume, and even taste the cigarette her father and snuck in on the way over, no eyes were on them.

Hannah’s shadow was cast across the counter in the evening sun.  It seemed to take up more space than anything else in the room, and she felt as if being there she was darkening the happy parlour at its busiest time of day.  But when no children burst into tears at the sight of her, and nobody ordered her out while holding a cross to her forehead, she moved forward.

Hannah flicked her ponytail back and made sure her head was held high.  Her parents didn’t raise her to shy away from a challenge, but they didn’t raise her to challenge others either.  It felt like the town was challenging her, and in response, she challenged back.

“Are you coming Mariana?  Dad?” she asked when she noticed there was no sound of footsteps behind her.  She didn’t face them; it felt like she would lose a staring contest if she did.  And Hannah had never lost one of those to anyone but her father.

Hannah all but marched past the long row of ice cream flavours and small, eager children.  She marched past the parents and their not so subtle gawking, as well as the elderly patrons that looked either pitying or oblivious.  She marched to the tables reserved for veterans on the opposite end of the diner, taking the same seat she had always taken as a child.  Jonathan and Mariana were only a few feet behind, more disturbed than she was by the stares.  But when they each sat down across from her, picked up a menu, and began to read, whispers began to rush through the crowd.  Before Hannah knew it the parlour was back to it’s usual decibel, and her heart finally gave her ribcage a chance to heal.  Hannah let out a breath.

“That was dramatic,” Jonathan stated.  There was a little smirk on his lips, the one he only got when he was reminded of something from his time serving his country.  Hannah had only ever seen it when he had his navy buddies over or when they visited the cemetery.  It had never been directed at her, and she thought he might have been proud of the way she didn’t shy away and hide.  Hannah knew she had nothing to hide, but as much pleasure as she had gotten by winning whatever had just happened, she didn’t like how it had affected Mariana.

“Do you need to use the washroom?” Hannah suggested over the table.  Mariana was even paler than before.  She’d never been one to love attention, unless it was from a boy telling her she was pretty.  Hannah hated what she had just made her friend go through.

Mariana nodded and stood.  Hannah could practically hear the woman’s knees knocking together.  When Hannah went to join her, or simply make sure she didn’t pass out on the way to the washroom, Mariana held up one hand.  “I’ll be fine…I just…need to splash some water on my face.”  Her eyes went over the crowd, as did Hannah’s.  A few of the people were glancing in their direction, or hissing hushed orders to their kids to stop asking questions.  “Excuse me.”

Jonathan and Hannah watched her go.  As the door swung back and forth Hannah caught a glimpse of the figure-eight rope that was hung on it.  The blue background matched the paneling on the floor and the cushions everyone sat on, as well as each and every frame in the place.  In Hannah’s opinion it was too much blue, but the citizens of Garnet’s Lake loved it.  Anything nautical was loved in Garnet’s Lake, it seemed, even though they were five hundred miles from the ocean.

“Your mother wanted me to give you this,” Jonathan said, sliding something towards Hannah.  She faced him, finding a small package made of brown paper in front of her.

“What’s this?” she asked, smiling.  “A present?”

“It was your mother’s idea,” Jonathan replied.  “She’s worried about you.”

Hannah had a feeling she knew what was in the package, but she was still a little surprised.  “A crucifix.  I already have one.”

“She’s worried about you,” Jonathan repeated.  “About your soul.”

Hannah didn’t know what to say.  Her mother had been on her case since she first stopped going to church, and using the excuse of work wasn’t cutting it anymore.  And while Jonathan didn’t question her about it, she knew he was just as disappointed in her decision.

“
You ask too many questions
,” he’d always said.  Ever since she was a child Hannah had questioned why they went to church.  For a while she accepted that it was just what people did—everyone went to church in Garnet’s Lake.  The entire town practically shut down every Sunday morning.  But as Hannah grew up the questions just piled one on top of the other, and one day they broke her.  She started taking every Sunday shift she could at the hotel, and before she knew it it had been five years since she stepped foot in a church.  Suffice to say, Jessica Best had been trying to save her daughter’s soul for a very long time.

Today, though, that didn’t bother Hannah.  She was suddenly extremely touched by her mother’s care, even though Jessica wasn’t there.  She could picture her mother sitting on the back porch at home, a bible in hand and praying for Hannah to find the light.  “I’ll go over soon.  Maybe for dinner?”

Hannah hung the small silver crucifix around her neck.  It weighed on her collarbone with a heaviness that burned her but it was a good kind of burn, she thought.  Jonathan arched one brow.  “She’d like that.”

Hannah grinned.  “You don’t have to look so shocked.”

Mariana gingerly sat down beside Jonathan.

Hannah looked over her friend, spotting the beads of water on the edges of her dark hair.  She really had splashed water on her face, Hannah realized.  It was a serious move for Mariana, since she always wore makeup, but that was when Hannah noticed Mariana wasn’t wearing makeup.  Her nails were still pristine, her hair in a perfectly placed messy bun, blue dress immaculate on her thick frame.  But no makeup.

As the waiter came to take their order Hannah felt the urge to hold the menu in front of her so she wouldn’t have to face Mariana.  Here she was thinking of her own victories—of herself as some kind of hero—when her friend was a wreck.  The very thought of eating made her sick so all she ordered was chamomile tea.  It seemed Jonathan and Mariana felt the same, and the chocolate scone was a long forgotten dream.

Hannah wondered how long it would take them to return to normal.  She couldn’t remember what her normal was anymore, and all it had taken was a split-second decision to make to make the entire town crumble around her.  And Hannah wasn’t sure if she wanted to be there when it was built back up.

No matter how many times Hannah called her mother that week there was no answer.  And while it would be simple enough to walk the five blocks to her childhood home, she couldn’t find the energy or the will to do it.  Instead she called into work to check when her next shift was, and ignored her boss when he said she should take some time for herself.  She thought she heard someone in the background suggesting she return to work sooner rather than later because that would help her adjust.  She thought it was Dane, the chef that had looked at her with such…something.  Hannah still wasn’t sure what the look he’d given her was about.

It took some convincing, but eventually she was added back to the schedule.  She was set up as an extra, and while they didn’t say it she knew it was because her boss feared she would have a breakdown mid shift.  She was insulted, but she didn’t want to argue in fear of being forced to stay home.

As much as Hannah wanted to get back to work, standing behind the front desk of the Lux Hotel was a rude awakening.  Guests lined up on either side of her, choosing to deal with the long lines at her coworkers desks rather than exchange pleasantries for even a moment with her.  Still, she stood with her back straight, hands folded in front of her, and slight glower on her lips.  She couldn’t seem to get that professional smile to show tonight.

“Hannah,” her manager said.  Mr. Cavan was a short man with thick hair and thin glasses and a penchant for anything pinstripe.  “Why don’t you take a break and let Melissa take over, hm?”

Normally his hand was always placed on the centre of someone’s back.  It wasn’t harassment in any way, but his own way of pushing a person somewhere else.  Hannah anticipated it the second she heard his voice but as she turned to face him before he could touch her she saw a wide five foot gap between them.  Mr. Cavan’s professional smile was there, but it didn’t reach his eyes as it normally did.

Forced
, Hannah thought.  It was the very same kind of smile he’d said she had when she first started working for him.  Melissa stood beside him, a happy blank grin on her lips.  She was never allowed to work the front computers because when she did she somehow managed to overbook twenty rooms.  Mr. Cavan swore to never let her use the phone again, and yet…

“All right,” Hannah agreed.  “I could use a coffee.”  Her feet were starting to ache anyway from standing still for so long.  From having nothing to think about for three hours other than the fact that everyone in the hotel was avoiding meeting her gaze.  Hannah hurried towards the back offices in hopes of drowning some of her frustration in a large cup of coffee but before she made it Dane stopped her.

He smiled at her, meeting her eyes with ease.  “You know if you’re looking for coffee what we have in the kitchen is better.”

Hannah flinched.  She hadn’t meant to, but it was too unexpected that Dane would talk to her.  He was on another level than her, and he’d barely even glanced in her direction since he started at the hotel last year.  He rarely paid attention to any woman that wasn’t a guest or married.  Hannah was struck by the blinding radiance that surrounded him.

“I thought you didn’t like anyone in the kitchen that wasn’t part of the kitchen staff,” Hannah said.  She gave herself credit for how coolly it came out.

Dane tilted his head back and forth.  “I’ve noticed that you’re sort of on your own today; I thought you might want someone to talk to.  Someone that was…there.”  His smile faded a bit, but nothing about it seemed malicious.  Hannah wanted to pat him down and check for some kind of recording device, anything that would prove he was a jerk.  Everyone in the hotel
loved
Dane, no matter how many married women he slept with; Hannah kind of loved him too, even though she’d seen him go into countless rooms.  She wanted to know how he did it.

“I would like that,” Hannah said.  She smiled, professional and polite.  Mr. Cavan would be proud if he wasn’t so busy pretending to be busy.

Dane led Hannah into the kitchen where he poured two cups of coffee.  The machine was closest to the door leading outside, the very one Hannah and Mariana had snuck through in an attempt to avoid the guests out front; Hannah could never leave through the front door without being asked at least five questions even though she was clearly leaving with her coat on and bag in hand.

Hannah took a sip of coffee and moaned.  “Oh my
God
.”

Dane chuckled.  “I love that sound.”

Hannah took another drink of the soft liquid, letting it flow over her tongue and down her throat.  It was a dark roast, one she normally hated, and she was drinking it black.  No sugar, no cream, just the original coffee.  Her toes curled in her shoes, something she’d never done before.  “This is amazing.”

“Now you know how I made this place go from a two star to a five star,” Dane replied with a grin.

Nobody in the kitchen was paying any attention to them, and Hannah thought that might have to do with Dane’s status.  While he was a well-loved man he wasn’t someone anybody messed with.  If he chose to have coffee with the woman that just killed someone, not five feet away from where they stood, it wasn’t going to be questioned.  As long as he was around nobody would look twice in their direction.  Hannah thought that might be why he chose to talk to her tonight.