Janet and Doc Butler sat across from Brian in his office waiting for him to react to their information. He flushed six colours and twiddled a pen between his fingers, shaking his head and glaring at Janet.
"Jesus, I coulda done that, Janet!"
"And you should have," Doc intervened. "I don't need no molly coddlin' to apply myself to business."
"All I did was tell Doc you wanted him to help you with the Gough murder. Isn't that what you said?"
"I said, Janet, that I wanted to find a nice easy way to give Doc something to occupy his mind and not let him dwell on his- the- the-"
"Cancer." Doc sucked his teeth in disgust.
"Okay fine. Cancer then. Jesus, I just wanted to be a little subtle is all." He tossed his pen on the desk.
"All through poutin'?" Doc patted Janet on the hand and said he'd handle it from then on.
"Call me later," she grinned, waltzing out of the office.
"Why am I always the guy on the short end in these things?"
"You didn't ask me to help you with your physical shortcomings, sheriff. I believe the subject was Paynter Gough."
Brian's jaw dropped, and he gaped at the smile blossoming on the old man's face.
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November seventeenth was the Nature's Gateway annual charity auction and dance and Polly Whitehorse became the devil's own canvasser for the event. Everyone was expected to chip in and attend one or the other of the functions. In the past, the dance had always been more popular because the women of the town contributed home baking to the refreshment table.
The auction was really just a huge opportunity to foist garage sale stuff onto each other's neighbours. The Bait and Tackle Shop was donating refurbished outboards that the owner had seized or salvaged in the course of the past season and the bar was set for the other businesses to follow suit – some, like Irving Keldman, grumbling the entire evening.
Once again, Brian and Jenny Asaki were pressed into service decorating the centre and they managed to cajole a few others to pitch in and help. As usual, Polly steamed around the room dictating orders and critiquing efforts with little regard for logic or whatever might be practical. The labourers just smiled, nodded and carried on with disregard.
Jenny moved next to where Brian was taping balloons to a pillar against the wall and in her soft voice, mentioned that she wanted to talk to him. Brian shrugged and said that was fine, but she waved a finger indicating that then was not the right time. It had to be private. Brian frowned, looked at his watch and signalled ten minutes. Jenny nodded and pointed to the area behind the grand room stage where Polly kept her art supplies.
"What's with the cloak and dagger?" Brian asked, once they met behind the stage.
"I have something to tell you that I didn't want anyone else to hear." Her eyes were wide and shining in the dim light.
"You want me to marry you." Jenny jerked and her mouth fell open. "Just kidding. Jenny. What's so important it has to be a secret?"
She studied him uncertainly as if deciding whether she'd erred. "Wendy Tzajke came to school crying the other day and when I asked her what was wrong, she said that her mother and father had a terrible fight and that Mister Tzajke threatened his wife and left the house. He never came home that night."
"What night exactly?"
"Last Wednesday."
Brian rubbed his chin and held out his hands. "Look, Jenny, I can't get into people's marriages when there's been no formal complaint. I mean Wendy's just a kid, maybe she was just really upset because they fought."
"Maybe, but I don't think so. I'm with these kids every day and I can tell when things have really changed in their lives."
"So what can I do?"
"Can't you speak to Carol and ask if – if everything's okay?" She nervously pulled the hem of her sweater.
"That's being a little forward, isn't it? I mean what do I say when she asks why I'm even asking?"
Jenny laced her fingers together and brought them to her mouth. "I don't- I just thought that- what if something happens?"
"Then that's when I can act, Jenny. I'm sorry, I just can't play Domestic Man..." He bit his tongue thinking back to when he last said that. "If I hear anything or get a chance to sound her out I will, but don't expect anything, Maybe she's the one that's at fault, then what do I say, besides, they aren't even here tonight."
Jenny seemed to shrink into herself and her wide eyes turned fearful. "I just have a bad feeling about this, Brian. Anyway, I felt I had to tell you." She touched his arm briefly then quickly went back into the hall.
"You are disgusting." Janet stood with her hands on her hips confronting Brian as he returned from backstage.
"What!"
"I saw Jenny come out of there ahead of you, tugging at her sweater and her eyes watering."
"We were talking!" Brian sounded incredulous.
"Right. Like Jenny is a backroom conversationalist."
"Oh shit... no matter what I do..." He walked away slapping his hands against his hips.
Janet turned and marched across to where Jenny was hanging decorations and began helping. "You okay?"
"Yes, why?"
"I uh, saw you come out of the back there, you seemed upset... and Brian..." Jenny made a disappointed face and went on working. "Did I say something wrong?"
"You have made a very big error, Janet. Brian and I were talking business. Private business to do with one of my pupils that I didn't want anyone hearing."
"Oh."
"Yes, oh."
"Jenny I'm- I'm sorry. I thought..."
"I know what you thought. You always think things like that. Everybody knows that about you."
Janet dropped her decorations and stood stunned at the revelation. She stared at the tiny schoolteacher busily taping up signs for the refreshments and began to feel dizzy. Everybody knows that about me? She turned and walked zombie-like across the dance floor to the front lobby, pushing through the large doors out onto the steps, sucking in great gulps of fresh air.
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Pity and a Shame
Mystery / ThrillerA small bedroom community/tourist town rocked by its first homicide, the brutal murder of an unpopular recluse. An unemployed ex military policeman, hired as the only law in the town, attempts to discover the truth when all the clues point to someon...