Ethan ignored the pang of wrongness that took up residence in his stomach as he left Cassidy to the quiet and dark. Maybe they hadn’t known each other very long yet, or very well, but from what he had seen so far Ethan liked Cassidy. Honestly, he was surprised at the people who had tried to warn him off when he first requested the assignment to be her partner. Sure, she might have been half a beat off from what most called normal (never in a million years did Ethan expect to play truth or dare again when he left middle school) but she was funny, and thoughtful, and had proved to be a good detective if her recovery of the girl’s diary was anything to go by. After all, Ethan wasn’t in the habit of looking down on local investigation agencies, and he got the impression that they had combed the house pretty well. Although, Ethan mused, maybe he could make an exception in this case and look down on local law enforcement a little bit, given how rude the sheriff had been.
When he reached the lobby, he hovered for a moment. There was a metaphorical stack of files on his phone, but he didn’t have a lot of work to do with them. He and Cassidy had spent the full day before their train ride going through files, and then part of the train ride itself reviewing files. He tugged on the hair at the back of his head and glanced back at the stairs. Maybe he should’ve asked Cassidy for the diary, but he hadn’t really been thinking about the case when he’d brought her upstairs. He couldn’t imagine going back up to disturb her and get the book. Anyway, he’d only really left to give her the space to recover in the dark and quiet without worrying about having another person around. They wouldn’t be able to get any more information until the morning. For the moment, Ethan supposed there was no real reason not to settle in with his book. He would give it a couple of hours, grab them something to eat, and hopefully by the time he came back Cassidy would be feeling better. If not, he would worry then.
Despite his intentions, Ethan couldn’t seem to get his eyes to stick on the words holographically projected before him. His mind was clouded, his inner vision disrupted by images from the crime scene earlier that day. Given his time as an emergency medical responder, Ethan wasn’t exactly squeamish about gore, but there was something different about looking at the remains of a family and knowing exactly what happened. Of course, part of the problem was that everyone assumed they knew exactly what happened. A little girl who, as far as anyone could tell based on the information they’d gotten their hands on, showed no previous indications something may be wrong had killed her family. It was understandable why no one truly wanted to understand, but ultimately unacceptable.
Dwelling on it would get him nowhere for the evening. Ethan clicked off his book and put his phone back in his pocket. The attempt at a mental distraction clearly wasn’t working. A physical one might do the trick, or so he told himself. Ethan stood slowly, paying attention to the roll of his muscles under his skin as he did so. Just as slowly, he reached his arms above his head as high as he could, and raised himself on his toes. He took a slow, deep breath and appreciated the way the evening sunlight filtered through the window and dusted his cheeks, even as the sun itself started to dip below the horizon. He lacked the effortless grace he’d noticed in his new partner, but physical careers had lead him to cultivate an intentional awareness of his own body to make up for his natural lack of coordination.
As he fell back down onto his heels, the spell was broken, but Ethan felt a little more present and a little more sure of himself. Of course, with his mind clear, it couldn’t help but find other places to wander. Being a Special Investigator may have been a diversion from Ethan’s original career path, but scientists and investigators shared the key trait of a busy and inquisitive mind. He wouldn’t have found much success on either path without one, and his brain decided to skip over Cassidy’s lukewarm response when Ethan had asked about her interest in their shared profession. Once again though, Ethan mused, her business was none of his business, for all that he wanted to change that.
The only way to achieve that goal, Ethan scolded himself firmly, was to stop obsessing and start giving Cassidy reasons to consider Ethan a friend. He didn’t think he’d done a bad job of that so far, having her back with the jerk of a sheriff and helping with her migraine. Still, his mother would tell him there was always something more he could do to be friendly to those he wanted to call his friends. Cassidy was supposed to buy them dinner that night, but there was always tomorrow, and with her under the weather, Ethan wanted to take care of it. He made his way over to the desk, intent on asking the innkeeper about what dining options she would recommend.
It was a cozy place they were staying at. In his haste to get the lights turned off and get Cassidy settled in, he hadn’t taken the time to notice anything about the place. Now, though, Ethan wasn’t in a rush. The longer he took, the more time Cassidy had to recover in peace. So far, Ethan had noted that the inn, The Pinedrive Inn as it was called, was a cozy little place with two floors. He had counted five doors when he was upstairs, and knew at least one of them was a bathroom. Their room had an attached bathroom, but the shower was a shared amenity. Ethan hoped the bathroom situation wasn’t going to be too difficult, knowing the inn was at full capacity.
The majority of the inn was exposed wood. Overall, it had a log cabin feel, with a large fireplace in the lounge surrounded by large, squishy couches. The woman behind the checkin desk waved at him enthusiastically the moment Ethan came into sight. It was a different woman than the one who had checked him in in the first place. That woman, who had introduced herself as Robin, had been a bit taller than his partner, and about as broad. Her medium brown hair, just beginning to streak with grey, had been slashed at her chin. She’d been dressed in a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up, medium blue jeans, and sensible boots. Her manner had been brisk and businesslike, but not unkind.
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The woman behind the counter now was not particularly short, but had a petit stature overall. Her limbs were willowy, long and thin. Her large, toothy smile lit up the room so thoroughly Ethan suddenly wondered if he was experiencing light sensitivity issues. Long wavy hair that was either white, or so blonde it nearly appeared white, spiraled down to her elbows in loose curls. She wore sunny yellow overalls over a cream colored t-shirt. Her blue eyes sparkled like the ocean at noon on a summer’s day. She looked more like she belonged in a kindergarten classroom, or maybe a high school art classroom, than behind the desk she currently occupied.
“Good evening,” she greeted in a high but smooth voice when Ethan responded to her summons. “Robin got you all checked in and settled earlier, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan agreed readily.
“Oh, good!” she praised before Ethan had a chance to even consider continuing to speak. “My Robin can come off a little gruff to some folks, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders and an even better heart.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan agreed again.
“My name is Stella, by the way. Robin told me the woman you came in with wasn’t feeling too great. Migraine, was it? Is she feeling any better now?”
“Yes, ma’am, it was,” Ethan confirmed. Stella’s relentless stream of questions allowed Ethan to keep talking this time. “I think she’s doing a bit better, I’m glad to say. I’ve left her alone to rest for now. I’m sure she’ll get better with quiet.”
“Of course, that’s very sensible,” Stella praised, “and she can expect plenty of quiet here. We do have a full house right now, but no one here at the moment is particularly loud. The Stevensons come up every year around this time for their anniversary. They like to bird watch together; apparently they met on some bird watching tour early in their retirements, both grieving widows. Such a sad but sweet story, the two of them finding solace in each other. Then there’s Mr. Ravenwood. A bit tight-lipped, that one, but perfectly respectable. I get the impression he comes here mostly for the solitude. I assume he’s a creative of some sort, and this is a place he comes to make a final push on his projects. Rather exciting when you think of it! And then there’s Laura and Bradley. He’s the college boyfriend, up with her visiting her parents at the moment. My understanding is that Laura had some big tiff with her mother over whether or not her and her boyfriend could sleep in the same bed under her parents’ roof, and the kids ended up staying here rather than with the parents. I doubt that’s a hill Mom will choose to die on in the future, but who’s to say? And then, of course, there’s the two of you. I apologize we couldn’t get you a room with one bed. The other two couples snapped those up first. You and your partner are welcome to move things around so you can push the beds together, if you like. Robin and I don’t mind.”
Ethan went uncomfortably hot, from his chest up to the tips of his ears. “We’re not partners! I mean… I guess we are partners. Work partners! We’re work partners. Nothing romantic happening there. Nothing at all. We would’ve taken to rooms if we could.”
Stella leaned forward on the desk, braced against her forearms. There was an almost predatory glint in her eye, even as the rest of her demeanor remained friendly and inviting. “Nothing romantic is happening there at the moment. But you’d like something to happen?”
“Of course not,” Ethan denied immediately, without giving the question any consideration. It wasn’t a question that deserved consideration. “She’s good at what we do. I’m lucky to be her partner. I hope I’ll be lucky to be her friend.”
“Then why are you as red as our skyline in autumn?” Stella asked, the corner of her mouth pulling up with a teasing air.
Ethan just stared at the woman, fairly gobsmacked.
Apparently taking some form of pity on him, Stella waved Ethan off. “Just something for you to think about. So, what is it you and your partner do that you think she’s so good at?”
Despite mild relief at the change in the conversation, Ethan stayed frozen. He supposed there was no real reason not to tell Stella they were federal investigators. It wasn’t a secret, and there was no suspect at large they needed to try to catch. Still, the torrent of information Stella had freely shared about the other guests made Ethan feel reluctant to share anything about himself or Cassidy.
“Are you bothering him, Els?” Ethan was relieved to see Robin standing in the doorway, holding a bundle of firewood.
“Of course not!” Stella answered cheerfully. “We were just having a little chat, weren’t we, hon?”
“Of course, no bother at all,” Ethan agreed, despite the stress their “little chat” had caused him. After all, now that he was off the hook, there was no reason to stir up trouble.
“Mmmhmm, sure,” Robin answered, but her tone was skeptical. She made a brief detour into the lounge to drop the firewood in its place, but she returned in short order. “A likely story.”
“Miss Stella was just giving me the lay of the land,” Ethan defended diplomatically. “I was actually hoping to get a recommendation for dinner?”
Robin came around the desk and stood next to Stella, leaning into the other woman’s space. Stella gravitated toward Robin, and they ended up with their arms pressed together, Stella’s head resting on Robin’s shoulder. Robin was the one who answered. “What kind of grub are you in the mood for?”
“Something simple,” Ethan decided. At this point he didn’t really know what Cassidy preferred, so it was probably a good idea to stick to the basics. “A pizza place or a burger joint would be great.”
“I’d recommend the pizza,” Stella told him decisively. “There’s two pizza places in driving distance, in opposite directions. They’re both alright, I suppose. Tony’s is to the left. They’ve got a lot of interesting topping choices, but their crust is thinner and they go a little light on the sauce for my tastes. Giovanni’s, to the right, gives you a good bite of dough and plenty of sauce. They’ve got all the classic toppings, but they’re willing to work with you if you know what you want and you’re nice about it. When Robin was pregnant with our oldest, she had all sorts of cravings, Giovanni’s-“
“Alright, Els, I’m sure our guest doesn’t need to hear about all that.” The arm Robin wrapped around her wife and the kiss placed on Stella’s temple took any real bite out of the mild scolding. “Is there anything else we can do for you tonight, sir?”
“No, you’ve both been more than helpful. Thank you for your time.”
The women nodded, and Ethan headed out the door as they began closing down the desk for the day. As he got in the car, he couldn’t resist the urge to check the label on Cassidy’s drink. There wasn’t any caffein in it.