Who Kissed Charlie Fine?

Chapter 14

 "Mary!" Charlie said, nearly choking on her name. He remained crouched with both hands held up beside his head while behind him Martin cheered with ecstatic relief.

She stared down at him, down that pretty, unusual nose of hers, her hair a mess, smudged remnants of mascara underscoring eyes which warned him familiarity was no free pass.

"Charlie," she said, giving him a cool opening as she lowered her gun completely.

"We were just coming from...Kiftsgate. The inn. Back there."

It was Charlie's turn to stammer.

"Obviously, but why?"

She wore a sheenless, rose-coloured kimono open over a loose black tank, longer than a shirt but shorter than a dress, magnificent, Charlie thought, in her fearlessness. Trying to compose himself, he found a split second to wonder whether she thought him attractive at all. The mind was ever a mystery.

"May we come in?"

"I suppose," she said, stepping somewhat out of the way.

Martin had a leg over Charlie's shoulder in no time, pushing past Mary into the furnished sitting room of her basement.

Charlie got to his feet and stepped just inside. "You knew this tunnel was here?"

"Of course," she said with a shrug. "This used to be a governor's home. It's full of secret dumbwaiters and doors. I always assumed it was to sneak mistresses around, but you'd have to ask 1910."

"Why haven't you boarded it up? Anyone could just come waltzing in."

"Anyone just has," she said, checking his scolding tone. "Was it to tell me how to protect myself in my own home?"

"No. No, I'm sorry," Charlie said sheepishly.

"Good."

She leaned into him, sliding her arm along his in a way that made him think she was going to pat him down. She merely rested her shotgun in a standing position against the wall behind him before straightening back up with her hands on her hips. Somehow, Charlie had never felt less inspected.

"My parents always said it would add historical value to the house," she sighed, continuing about the passage. "I just like to think of all the money I've saved not having to build a panic room. Given my circumstances, it's a comfort to have an escape route."

"Still," said Charlie, wanting to argue her logic.

Mary's long blink and slow, closed smile stopped him in time. "There's a door behind the fridge upstairs that leads to a neighbour's greenhouse. I can show you out right now, if you like."

Her sleepy lilt made it impossible for Charlie to tell whether she was truly annoyed with him or just teasing. It was probably both, but anything was better than anger.

He apologized earnestly. "Sorry for this. We must have scared you. Were you sleeping?"

"We couldn't sleep because I had a nightmare," Imogene said, looking anything but frightened. "We're having tea and toast. Want some?"

"I could use something a little stiffer," Martin hinted.

"You look a little scared yourselves," said Mary. "Run into any ghosts at the inn?"

"I'll say!" said Martin, trying to decide whether or not to take a seat on either the burgundy couch or matching loveseat which faced each other over a small area rug in front of a dormant fireplace.

"Was it that maid who got stuck in the laundry chute or was it the Captain?" Mary asked. "It's usually him."

"It, uh, may have been his parrot," Charlie said uncomfortably.