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47. No Muffins .47

Day 33 - Sunday

Two days until the flight.

"We're men! Manly men! We're men in tights. Yesss! We roam around the forest looking for fights!"

You had been overjoyed to find Robin Hood: Men in Tights in the TV directory when you'd been searching for something to occupy yourself with.

It seemed that things were finally looking up.

"We may look like pannnnsies, but don't give us scorn or else we'll put out your lights! We're men, we're men in tights! Tights! Tights!"

You stared blankly at the screen for a moment, before making a fist and pumping it in the air.

"Tights! Tights!"

Other than that, the rest of your day was pretty uneventful.

The same couldn't be said for everyone, however.

___

Janette hummed to herself mindlessly as she pulled another tray of muffins from the oven. These ones were banana-nut. A recent at her inn had claimed to adore the flavor, and she loved the feeling of watching others enjoy her baking.

Suddenly a knock at the door halted her movements. She quickly undid her apron, patting down her clothing in an effort to look presentable for a potential customer.

The door unlocked and opened with a click, Janette peering out into the night. "Hello?"

A boy stood there, smiling. "Hi! Are you Ms. Janette Lemmings?"

"That's right, Dear."

"Great! I'm Cara Bard. It's a pleasure to meet you." He outstretched his hand to the woman, who took it and shook it gently.

"Nice to meet ya', Cara Bard. What brings ya' here at such an--" she paused "oh, my! How rude of me. Come in, come in. It's awful cold out t'night."

The boy smiled widely and entered at her command.

"Come sit, come sit!" Janette led her guest to the couch in the lobby and sat him down, before sitting across from him. "Now, what exactly brings ya' here?"

Cara's expression hardened slightly, going serious. He brought a hand to his face to prop it up. "Well... I have a sister, see." His lips pulled downwards. "She's not in the best mental state, she's just very... delusional. Just some time ago, a day before we were gonna have her taken somewhere to get help, she took off with my car in the night."

Janette's eyes narrowed, the motherly warmth somewhat draining from her expression. "Go on..."

He nodded sadly. "We tracked the car to your inn; it seems to be in your possession now. We don't intend to take back the car... don't worry about that. Just, is there any information you can give us on the girl who left it here? Anything! How she was doing, what direction she left in, where she might be going...? My mother's worried sick and I'm beginning to fear for her health, and I just-- I miss my sister..." His eyes were beginning to well up, and he frantically wiped away the liquid with his sleeve.

Janette was silent now. She knew the girl he was talking about. The girl with the fancy car. The girl with those haunted eyes that told of horrors no girl her age should endure. That girl wasn't mentally unstable. Janette knew mentally unstable. She was starting to fear it was sitting right in front of her.

She had to exercise caution. Perhaps she could even help that poor girl if she played her cards right...

"Oh dear, isn't that just horrible." Janette pressed her finger to her lips in thought. "Now, yes, the girl who gave me that car... she was a bit... well, she was definitely running from somethin'. She seemed okay, though. No injuries or anythin', just horribly frightened."

Something dark was stirring in Cara's eyes. Or was that even his name? "Where was she going, do you think?"

Janette hummed, feeling sweat gather at the base of her temple. "She headed off North, maybe to--"

"You can stop."

Janette froze. "... stop what, Dearie?"

Cara smiled again, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Lying, of course."

"I don't know what you're talking ab--" She cut off, eyes widening.

He was now standing up.

And he had a gun.

It was equipped with googly eyes and a pink bow, but it was still a gun.

Cara hummed. "We tracked her to the South before she ditched the chip. Is your memory that bad or are you lying on behalf of a girl you only briefly met?" He stepped forward with the weapon, and Janette flinched.

"My--my memory isn't what it used t'be..."

Cara nodded sympathetically, absentmindedly playing with the gun. "I've heard that memory loss is truly terrifying."

"Ah... yes, I s'pose it is." Janette backed up, feeling her heels hit the couch.

His eyes glinted. "Painful, even."

"I wouldn't go that far..."

Cara cocked his head to the side. "Are you trying to get away from me?"

"Well, I... no, I just..." Janette coughed into her hand. "Well... ought to be goin' now if ya' wanna find ya' sister."

The boy perked up immediately, eyes becoming friendly and innocent once more as if a switch had been flipped. "Oh, I guess you're right!" He turned to go. "It was so nice meeting you! Thanks for your cooperation!"

What cooperation? Certainly, Cara must've known that Janette's finger would be dialling the Police the moment he left. "I... yes, happy to be of help."

He nodded and began to walk away.

Janette breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped that this frightening boy never caught up to the 'sister' he spoke of. That girl from before... Janette wished her, you, the best of luck.

Then Cara paused.

And he turned around.

Janette frowned.

"What is it, Deari--"

Bang!

Thud.

Carmen Pravol stared down at the woman's convulsing body.

She was twitching a lot.

Okay, now she was dead.

Took her a minute there.

Carmen smiled to himself and skipped out the door.

Even if he hadn't gained any new information on your whereabouts, at least he would now have a fun new story to tell you when he saw you!

___

Light shone down on a steaming tray of banana-nut muffins in the kitchen.

They were the last batch that Janette Lemmings would ever bake.