“Well, that was a bust,” Marianna said as she and Alna exited their fourth hardware store of the night.
Alna didn’t answer immediately. As she stepped away from the glass door to allow a couple entrance, she pulled the propane tank from her bag, examining it with a frown. Barring a small hammer stamped to the bottom in black ink, there was nothing about the tank that distinguished it from any other. It was small, green, with a large sticker wrapped around it showing which company it had been sold from. By rights, she shouldn’t have even been carrying it around the way she was, as the label warned of the tank’s flammable nature.
If Alna wanted to find out which store had sold it, however, she needed a point of reference, and sometimes taking a picture wasn’t sufficient. Besides, she had made sure it was empty before packing it, in the safest way she could think. When she had used the camping stove taken from Wilks’s house, she had been unable to cook the bacon she had used as her test subjects. Thus, she had concluded the tank was empty. She placed the tank in a plastic bag as an extra precaution.
“It was a long shot to begin with,” Alna said, beginning to walk down the sidewalk. She felt Marianna grip her elbow, pulling her to one side. Glancing up, Alna saw a family dressed up for Halloween walking past her, who, in her absent-mindedness, she had almost walked into. She glanced over at Marianna. “Thank you.”
As a result of a shopping trip with Marianna’s friends a few days ago, both Alna and Marianna were sporting costumes. Having taken Hikari’s idea to do a couple’s theme, Alna wore an improvised Sherlock Holmes costume. She wore a brown deerstalker with its ear flaps tied on top with a piece of string so they wouldn’t irritate her. Paired with the deerstalker, Alna had donned a light brown trench coat.
Alna felt rather ridiculous, but considering how much their coordinated costumes made Marianna happy, she couldn’t complain.
Although it made their current investigation, such as it was, much more ironic.
In the present, Alna pulled her phone out of her coat’s oversized pocket, doing a quick search. After a moment, she looked at Marianna. “There is one more hardware store three blocks from here. Would you mind checking that out before we quit for the night?”
Marianna frowned in response, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her green tweed jacket. “The party doesn’t start for another two hours, so I’m good to keep going.”
“Good,” Alna said, placing the tank back in her purse. Taking Marianna’s hand, she started to lead them to the next hardware store.
Passing by a couple dressed as salt and pepper shakers, Alna and Marianna stopped at a street corner, waiting for the light on the opposite end to indicate they could cross. A good number of people crossed anyway, cutting off someone driving a large, black truck. The trucker honked, and when Alna glanced over at him, she saw the man (a mechanic, it looked like) gesturing angrily.
The light changed, and they crossed the road, avoiding bumping into people.
“Hey, Alna?” Marianna asked. Alna turned to look at her. A good portion of Marianna’s face was cast in shadow, but even still she looked no less beautiful than she had when she first put her costume on. She had paired her tweed jacket with a brown, clip-on tie, with some lines of red added in. On top of that, she wore dark green trousers but had worn her runners, finding dress shoes uncomfortable. She’d put her hair up in a loose ponytail, a black plastic band holding the golden strands in place.
“Yes?” Alna replied, meeting Marianna’s eyes before redirecting her gaze ahead of them.
She saw Marianna look over at a couple walking past them, dressed as Cleopatra and Batman. Looking back at Alna, she inquired, with some hesitation, “I was just wondering.” She paused. “Have you ever seen a dead body?”
Alna turned her gaze to Marianna once more, frowning a bit.
“It’s just,” Marianna continued, cheeks colouring a bit underneath her foundation. “You’ve been this whole thing”––she made a vague gesture with her left hand––” for, what, two years now?”
Alna didn’t reply immediately, examining their surroundings out of habit more than anything else.
“Have I ever seen a body?” Alna clarified as if there hadn’t been a pause in their conversation. “I have, although not in the context you’re referring to. At least, not up close.” She gave Marianna a wry look. “Police are not too keen on letting the public view the bodies in their morgue. That hasn’t stopped me from viewing the pictures they take, however.”
Alna could hear the amusement in Marianna’s voice as she said, “Of course not.”
Choosing not to respond to that last comment, Alna continued, “If you wish to know if I’ve ever seen a body up close, then yes, I have.” They stopped at yet another crosswalk. To Alna’s left, a cluster of teenage girls stood together, leaning on each other and giggling drunkenly. “My great-grandfather,” she continued. “It was an open-casket funeral.”
“I’m sorry,” Marianna said, voice sincere.
Alna glanced off to the side. “It’s been a while.”
A white glowing sign appeared up ahead as they crossed the street. Alna said, “We’re here,” ending the conversation.
Mick’s Hardware wasn’t what one would call classy. As she entered behind Marianna, Alna surveyed it. This store was cleaner than some of the other stores she and Marianna had visited tonight. The maroon floor looked to have been polished recently, as it reflected the bright lights hanging from the ceiling. To encourage people to buy as many things as possible, a display of hammers, wrenches, and drills were positioned five feet away from the entrance.
Conveniently, the shelves to Alna’s right contained exactly what she and Marianna were looking for: propane tanks, alongside roasting sticks and various other items a camper may require.
Alna tugged on Marianna’s hand, leading her towards the shelves in question. She extracted the plastic-wrapped propane tank from her bag, holding it out to Marianna, who accepted it with no small amount of confusion. Down the aisle, a man dressed as Frankenstein’s monster browsed the shelves.
“Use this as a reference while I look at the tanks,” Alna said in a low voice. And then, catching herself, added, “You don’t mind, do you?”
The sunny smile Marianna gave her showed she didn’t. Quite the opposite. Her willingness to help made something in Alna ache a bit––she dare not say her heart. That was ridiculous.
“I don’t mind at all.” Marianna turned to examine the ones on the shelf with a puckered brow. Alna thought she looked cute.
She turned away, picking up a tank.
It didn’t take her long to figure out that, after all their walking around, they had finally found the right store. The propane tank in Alna’s hand was identical to the one taken from Wilks’s in every way. From the size of the tank, to the shade of green, there was no doubt the same manufacturer made this one as the tank used to end Wilks’s life. Alna peered at the bottom of the tank. There. A stamp of a hammer in black ink.
“Looks like we're in the right place,” Marianna said, just as Alna was about to voice the same thought.
Alna nodded. “I believe we are.”
Setting down the tank, Alna captured Marianna’s hand. Tangling their fingers together, Alna led her to a shelf opposite the one they were standing next to. Peering at the end of the aisle, Alna concluded that she and Marianna were about as alone as they could get. It was rather convenient that the store wasn’t too busy this time of night. And that, according to a sign Alna had seen on the glass door, it stayed open later on certain holidays.
She turned to Marinna, ducking her head so she could talk to her more quietly. “If you don’t mind, I would like to do this interview by myself.”
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Marianna’s brows drew together, displaying her dissatisfaction. “You couldn’t have said this earlier?”
Before Alna could say anything more, a woman entered the aisle, picking up a small shovel to examine it. Alna stepped away from Marianna, guiding her away from the woman. They stopped next to a birdcage with a canary in it, which appeared to be the store’s pet.
“I’m sorry,” Alna apologized. “I intended for us to do this together.” Spotting a camera mounted above them on the wall, Alna angled her body so it wouldn’t see what she was saying. One could never be too careful. “But there are not that many people here right now. One person asking strange questions is one thing, but two––”
“That’s weirder,” Marianna finished for her. She pursed her lips, not looking particularly satisfied. Alna watched her carefully. When Marianna blew out a frustrated breath, Alna felt a twinge of guilt.
“Fine,” Marianna said. “Do what you have to.” As the canary chittered, its white feathers puffing, Marianna gave Alna the tank and made a jerky motion with her hands, miming something Alna didn’t understand. “I’ll take notes on whatever you learn later.”
That’s what the gesture meant. Alna squeezed Marianna’s hand in another, silent apology. She wanted to kiss her, but didn’t dare bring that attention to themselves. Not now.
Marianna’s eyes softened, although she continued to look annoyed.
With one last shared look, Alna approached the cashier’s desk, located at the back of the store.
She had to wait in line, which was to be expected. That didn’t stop Alna from being annoyed. However, Alna reasoned with herself, it wasn’t as though she and Marianna were in much of a hurry. If Alna could wrap up the conversation in ten minutes, there would still be enough time to get Marianna to her party.
For a moment, Alna considered going to the party with Marianna. It might make up for irritating her. She discarded the idea. Large groups of people were rarely Alna’s idea of fun, and if this party was anything like the dance club she’d met Marianna at, Alna would either be irritated by the loud noises and smothering body heat or “bored out of her skull,” as the saying went.
If Marianna continued to be unhappy, Alna would find another way to make it up to her.
Thankfully, the boy in front of her (no older than seventeen, responsible for his age, going by his watch and neat hair) finished with his purchase. Alna stepped forward, coming to stand in front of the girl manning her cash register. She arranged her face into a polite expression, watching as the girl tried to mask her obvious boredom with a cheerful facade meant to trick patrons into thinking she loved working here.
“Hi!” the girl greeted Alna. Her bicoloured eyes (blue-brown) darted to Alna’s hands as Alna placed the tank in front of her. She reached for it. “Is that everything for you?”
She was already scanning the propane tank before Alna could get a word in. Alna resisted the urge to sigh.
“Actually,” Alna cut in, reaching out a hand to stop her from saying anything more. “I have some questions if you don’t mind.”
The salesgirl (Bridgit, according to her nametag) gave her a cheerful nod that looked painfully fake. “Of course. Do you need help finding anything?”
This hadn’t been her first choice for a job, Alna observed.
“In a sense.” Alna gestured to the propane tank, which Bridgit still grasped between hands adorned with two rings each. Those must go against the dress code. Considering it was Halloween, she could probably get away with it without facing too many repercussions.
“Someone else bought this tank not too long ago, you see.” This gained a frown from Bridgit, who began to inspect the tank. She lifted it, realizing for the first time how empty it was. Her eyebrows drew together in obvious confusion. “I wanted to ask,” Alna continued, bringing Bridgit’s bicoloured eyes back to her, “if you have any idea who bought this one.”
Bridgit’s purple eyebrows rose at that. She looked rather like a punk teenager, with a black skull and crossbones shirt, and spiked choker with bracelets to match.
And she was looking at Alna as if she had the single most outrageous question she had ever heard. To be fair, it was a rather stupid question, and in truth, Alna doubted her chances of getting a satisfactory answer. Still, the girl could at least attempt professional courtesy, could she not?
Although, given that Bridgit likely had some kind of criminal history, such a thing may be difficult for her.
With an ironic twist of her lips that told Alna this girl was mocking her, Bridgit said, with barely restrained humor, “I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that.” And then, with a jerk of her head toward the other salesperson: “Jian’s here more than I am, though.”
Alna didn’t doubt that; the scars on Bridgit’s hands showed she’d been in a knife fight at one point or another. She was no expert, but she would guess the scars were about a year old. Perhaps this job had been set up by her parents or probation officer to teach her responsibility.
“Hey, Jian,” Bridgit tossed over her shoulder before Alna could approach the boy himself. “Someone needs you.”
“One sec.” The boy in question handed a man his change. Two other people were waiting in line on Jian’s side of the till, so Alna moved out of the way, allowing the people lined behind her to pay for their items.
Seeing as she now had a moment, Alna tossed her gaze around the store in search of Marianna. The girl in question wasn’t far at all. She was standing at the end of one shelf, examining the tea displayed there. Interesting how tea, of all things, was right next to electric drills.
The boy, Jian, approached her, bringing her attention to him. Unlike his coworker, Jian was dressed in a more professional manner, even wearing a light blue apron with the store’s logo stitched into the upper left-hand corner. He was Chinese with inky black hair that brushed his forehead, not one strand out of place. His Halloween costume consisted of some simple black eyeliner and scarlet contacts that gave him a demonic look. Apart from that, Jian wore a simple, striped t-shirt under his apron.
“How can I help you?” Jian asked, his tone both polite and distant. Unlike Bridgit, he didn’t appear bored. Rather, he seemed content with his job.
Alna pasted a sheepish look on her face, sliding the propane tank over the counter. “Bit of a stupid question,” she began, “but would you have any idea who bought this tank? I’m doing this scavenger hunt, you see. Some idiot thought it would be a great idea to get us tracking stuff all over the place.”
Jian was professional enough not to look too sceptical. Still, Alna could tell from the quick twitch in his cheek that he thought her ridiculous. He didn’t comment, though, and instead took the tank from her. He walked back to his side of the counter, making a vague gesture that told Alna to follow him.
Alna did. Much like Bridgit had done, he scanned the tank and then did some research on the rather bulky computer. Alna resisted the urge to tap her fingers, not wanting to show how impatient she was becoming.
It took less than a minute for Jian to answer her, although Alna’s impatience insisted that it must have taken longer than that.
“You have to understand,” Jian began, looking back at her, “we have tons of customers in here every day, and we don’t exactly ask for all of their names.”
Alna forced herself to nod in acknowledgment, keeping her face devoid of any emotion. This clearly unnerved Jian because returned his eyes to the computer, chapped lips pressed together.
“But I am here almost every day, so I might be able to help you.” He pulled out a small pile of pink sticky notes and a pen. Bending down, Jian wrote some brief descriptions. Alna tried to read the notes without being too obvious about it; the ability to read upside down came in handy sometimes.
Middle-aged man, maybe forty. Brown hair.
Woman, thirty-something. Red hair.
Woman. Black hair.
Jian wrote a few more brief descriptions before handing the paper to Alna. He looked bewildered. Alna didn’t blame him. This was rather unconventional.
“You’re lucky this isn’t a big-name store, otherwise I doubt anyone would have been able to help with your hunt.” There was an edge of disbelief in Jian’s voice. He didn’t believe her story. In truth, a scavenger hunt was far from Alna’s best cover story, but in this situation, there was a limited amount of stories she could use to convince someone to give her the information she wanted. At least it had appeared to pay off. She hadn’t been expecting to get names; and this was a start.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Alna agreed, accepting the paper. She picked up the propane tank as well, placing it in her bag. “Thank you so much. You’ve been very helpful.”
“Just doing my job, miss,” Jian told her with the barest hint of sarcasm. “Happy Halloween.”
“To you as well.”
That said, Alna folded the pink piece of paper and slipped it into the pocket of her jacket, turning on her heel to search for Marianna. Her girlfriend hadn’t gone far. She was now standing much closer to the checkout, next to a rack of miniature statues designed to be Halloween decorations. She held one in her hands, examining it with what seemed to be genuine interest.
Alna crept up behind her, wrapping her arms around Marianna’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. Marianna tensed for a moment before relaxing when she realized it was Alna. She held up the statue so that Alna could see it better. It was a figure of a vampire sitting on a rock, wearing a black dress that covered the rock almost completely, exposing her legs. Her back was arched, mouth wide open to expose bloody fangs as she seemed to shriek at the sky, dark hair wild and untamed as it tumbled down her back.
“I think this is supposed to be Carmilla,” Marianna explained. Either she had gotten over her earlier ire, or was choosing not to voice it at the moment. “You know, from that lesbian horror book. Have you ever read it?”
“I have not.” Alna tightened her hold on Marianna. “Although I have heard of it.”
Marianna set the statue down next to a replica of the Statue of Liberty with its features twisted into a snarl. “I have. I used to enjoy reading gay and lesbian books. Still do. I think it made me feel less repressed.”
Marianna fell silent. Alna tried to think of something comforting to say. She came up with many phrases meant to soothe, but none that did not sound fake or cliché.
She settled for, “Let’s get you to your party, shall we?”
Marianna leaned back against her. “I’d like that.”