Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Is that blueberry cobbler from Avalon?” Kyle asked us. I knew it was Kyle because of his spiffy lobster nametag.
“It is,” Ash told the twentysomething young man. “And normally I would share, but—”
“Oh no, dude, I get it. Kiyomi’s cobbler is legendary. But I will have to run over there and get some.”
“Could we ask you to grab our umbrella while you’re there? It belongs to the inn, and we forgot it.”
“I’ll get it ’cause you’ll need it, but folks leave those all over town every day, and they always get returned. I think they made them that horrible neon yellow just for that reason. Hard to indefinitely borrow something you can see all the way down the street.”
Ash agreed, gave Kyle twenty bucks, and told him to please bring it back. The young man thanked him and then asked us to watch the place while he was gone.
“We don’t have a public bathroom, but for you guys, there’s a key under the counter back there. All the pamphlets are free, and the walking ghost tour information is on the table with the black tablecloth, and the historical tour is on the table with the blue one.”
“Got it,” I assured him as he walked out the front door. After a moment, I turned to Ash. “Why do I feel like even if we weren’t here, Kyle was leaving for cobbler?”
“Because he was,” Ash agreed, glancing around. “Now I feel like he should have paid us to babysit the place.”
I was chuckling as I passed him his container of cobbler.
“Though, I mean, as jobs go, it seems pretty easy.”
“Awfully judgmental of you,” I commented.
“In what way? What could possibly happen? Do you think he has visitor-center emergencies? What would that even entail?”
“Brochure tampering,” I offered, tipping my head at the counter. “Pen and keychain theft, along with whatever else is up there.”
Ash surveyed the various items. “There are blanks of Kyle’s lobster nametag, so I guess they make those while you wait, and also can cozies, you know, the ones you put around your beer on the golf course.”
This was news. “Do you golf?”
“No, but I’ve seen them in movies,” he said, glancing around. “This must be what fish feel like in a bowl.”
“It is a lot of glass,” I agreed.
We had our tea and dessert, and it was amazing.
“That might be the best cobbler I’ve ever had,” Ash commented, throwing everything away behind the counter. “And it was very interesting that we both only added milk to our tea. Yet another thing we have in common.”
“Oh? What other things do we have in common?” I asked him as an older couple walked in with three boys of various ages.
The father, I was guessing—he already looked tired, and it wasn’t even two yet—walked over to Ash—he was behind the counter, after all—and asked him for information on the ghost tours he’d been hearing about.
“Right over there,” Ash directed him. “Black tablecloth.”
They all walked over, and the father picked up the brochure, looked it over, glanced at me, then Ash, spoke to his family, and then the five of them went out the door.
“I think we look shady,” I told him.
“Or…” He chuckled as the youngest came running back, opened the door, and asked Ash if he was in White Rabbit. “I am. I played Jericho with the knives.”
“I knew it! I told them, but they didn’t believe me.” The little boy, who I was thinking was maybe eight, squealed and gestured for his family.
The five of them rushed the counter to talk to Ash. Mom gushed, Dad was very serious and respectful, and the boys just wanted to tell him how awesome he was in the movie where he was a superhero who used his brain, a lot of gadgets, and of course, the twin katanas. The tagline was: No suit, just brains.
Of course the parents had seen many of his movies, and told him so as they all took lots of pictures together. Once they left, I was smiling at him.
“What?”
“I just thought it was interesting when they said that a lot of your other movies, the kids weren’t old enough to see, but White Rabbit, that was rated R for…what was it?”
“Bloody violence, language, probably crude humor. The list goes on.”
“That kid was how old?”
“Don’t be that guy. There are video games more bloody than that movie.”
“Speaking of movies, come sit by me so I can tell you about the talk I had with my buddy Rais.”
“Oh no,” he said with a groan.
I held out my hand to him, and he came and sat down beside me, taking mine in both of his, meeting my gaze.
“The body in the car has been officially identified as Kit Riggs. I’m so sorry.”
He exhaled slowly. “We figured it was him, right?”
“We did.”
“Okay,” he said, and pulled out his phone.