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Nate
“What the fuck?”
Jolting upright in bed, trying to catch my breath, it takes me a moment to remember where I am. It’s dark, but I can make out the old Victorian-style décor adorning the room. Ah, yes, I’m at The Pioneer Hotel in Port Townsend, Washington.
I don’t know what caused the loud bang that woke me up. It sounded like something hit the wall right next to my bed. It must’ve been a dream … or something. Shawna told us this place was known to be haunted, so who the fuck knows? Maybe something paranormal woke me up. God knows I’m not immune to nightmares, though, so I’m sure that’s what it was. I can’t remember what I was dreaming about, but that’s not unusual either.
Wiping my face with my hands, I get out of bed and pad to the window. I pull the curtain aside just enough to peer out, and it’s still dark. Streetlamps illuminate the street, but no one is walking, nor are there any cars driving down the main drag of town. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Kind of eerie, actually.
Across the street, I see the entrance to The Cellar, the bar Shawna works at and owns. Rob and I were thoroughly impressed with the food and want to go back again while we’re in town. Shawna was unexpected as well. I enjoyed talking with her. She seems like a kind person, and she’s beautiful. I can’t deny that.
And I can’t deny the feeling I had around her.
It was uncanny, really. I haven’t had a feeling like that around a woman in years. It was completely unexpected. After what I’ve been through the past few years, I never thought I’d get that sort of feeling again.
Not wanting to dwell on my past, I take a deep breath and head back to bed. This hotel is a trip. I’ve never stayed in a place like this before. The building is old, and there isn’t even an elevator. All the rooms are named after people—mostly women, but a few men—who presumably had something to do with this building’s history. I’ll admit that the old Victorian charm and décor also add to the haunted feeling.
Whatever. Since when do I believe in ghosts and haunted buildings? I don’t … but ever since Shawna and that old guy in the bar mentioned it earlier, it’s been in the back of my mind. I suppose if there were such things as ghosts, this hotel would be a place they’d want to haunt.
Looking at the clock on my bedside table, I see it’s only 4:30 a.m. My alarm isn’t set to go off for a couple more hours. Then I’ll get up and go on my morning run, which I’m actually looking forward to. I love running next to the water, especially when the weather is crisp and not hot like it usually is back home in San Diego. Not that I don’t still enjoy my morning runs at home, it’s just that I’d rather run in colder weather. It’d be fantastic if it rained, which I thought would be a definite possibility here in the Pacific Northwest, but there’s no rain in the forecast. Apparently, it doesn’t always rain in Washington State.
I close my eyes, hoping I can fall back asleep. As soon as my eyelids shut, though, Shawna’s face comes to mind. Her beautiful long brown hair. Her blue eyes. That smile. I can’t deny I’m attracted to her. I feel bad lying to her about what Rob and I are doing in town, but she can’t know the truth. Nothing can happen between the two of us either. Not only am I in town for just a short time, but it would also be morally wrong of me to pursue anything with her. I’m here for Cole Security. I have a job I need to do, and that’s it.
I need to keep my head focused. No matter how beautiful I think she is, the most I can do is maybe get additional information from her if we need it. I’m hoping that won’t be necessary, but it all depends on how things go later today. I don’t want to involve Shawna in Rob’s and my business for several reasons. It’ll be an absolute last resort if we do, and we’ll have to do so in a way that doesn’t give away our true intentions for being here in Port Townsend.
* * *
“Dude, that was it. You missed the turn,” Rob says as I turn my head just in time to see the hidden driveway.
“Shit. Sorry, man.” I turn on the next street to go back.
“I hope this goes well,” Rob says. “Hopefully, she gives us the information we’re looking for.”
“Me, too. I don’t want to make this job any harder than it already is.” I slow down as I approach the hidden driveway again, then turn when I see the opening in the overgrown bushes on either side of it.
“Well, we’re here,” Rob says as I drive up to a double-wide trailer that’s seen better days. The windows and siding need a good power wash, and the overgrown lawn surrounding it needs to be mowed. An older Buick, which could also use a car wash, is the only vehicle parked on the dirt pad driveway. I park next to it, then cut the engine.
Turning to Rob as I undo my seat belt, I say, “Here goes nothin’.”
We climb out of our rented Chevy Tahoe and walk toward the front door, but before we even reach the porch, a woman barges outside.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” the woman asks with a gruff voice, the screen door slamming shut behind her as she walks to the edge of the porch. She’s an older, heavier woman with gray hair. She’s wearing a muumuu and reminds me of someone, but I can’t put my finger on who it is.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Rob says. “Are you Alice Feldman?”
The woman stands with her hands on her hips, looking down at us from the porch. “What’s it to you?”
Rob chuckles in a friendly sort of way. “Well, ma’am, my partner here”—he motions toward me—“and I are hoping to talk to you about your son. We used to work with him—”
“No. No, you didn’t used to work with him. Don’t give me that bullshit!” she says angrily, waving her finger at us. “Get off my property before I call the police!”
Shit. This isn’t starting out well. I need to defuse this situation. “Hold on, Alice,” I say in a calm voice. “You’re right. We didn’t work with your son. But we are concerned about his well-being, and we’re hoping you can help us find him.”
“Are you two cops?” Alice says, retracting her finger and putting her hand back on her hip.
Suddenly, it hits me. She reminds me of Mama Fratelli from The Goonies. I loved that movie as a kid, and she looks a lot like the matriarch of the crime family who tried to steal One-Eyed Willie’s treasure from the kids. I try not to chuckle at the realization.
“No, we’re not cops,” I reply, not offering any more information than necessary.
