🗝️Detective Ryker Viltarin must uncover dark secrets before he loses not only his heart but also his life.🗝️
You're on your own, far from home
The wind is blowing in the top of the pines
A gloomy sky where the sun never shines
Deep...
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"If you're not traveling all this way because of the cave, then why?" the driver asked after a while of silence. The older man was obviously enjoying having someone to talk to for once.
It was unsurprising, as Ryker didn't think people were often on this bus. It was simply in human beings' nature to be curious.
Some people enjoy such situations and opportunities to chat with strangers with whom they can talk without shyness, perhaps because they know they will never see them again anyway.
"I'm here for a job," Ryker replied, perhaps for this reason more easily than usual. But he kept quiet about the fact that it was a favor for an old comrade. Even if the chances of seeing this man again were close to zero or he could jeopardize his mission, it was still better not to reveal who, or rather what, he really was. Sometimes, it was better to be safe than sorry. "I'm a self-employed craftsman, and I'm supposed to do some repairs at a cottage near Silvershore," he used as his alibi.
"At Pinewood Cottage?" the driver replied. "Oh, forget the question. There's only one pension in Silvershore." The bushy eyebrows drew together as the elderly man frowned. "If I remember correctly, the old lady's niece recently took over the management." "Riona O'Brien" "Yes, exactly, that was her name."
"Do you know anything about the landlady? I'm driving into the blue and want to know who I'm dealing with." The driver looked up and scrutinized him briefly for a few moments through the rear-view mirror. "No, I'm sorry, son. Everything I know, I've only got from the passengers." Ryker realized he had been too bold when his attentive gaze returned to the road. "I see, but there must be something-"
He was interrupted by the shrill screech of the brakes. The pedals were depressed so suddenly that his body flew forward. He managed to grab the seat in front of him just in time and protected himself from a violent impact by pushing his elbows into the seat to keep himself halfway upright.
Next to him, the rucksack flew forward like a rocket. A dull thud sounded as his luggage fell against the seat and crashed to the bus floor, which skidded a little further along the graveled road and then came to a juddering halt.
