1.
Aira took a deep breath of the fresh Maine air as she exited her dark grey Mini Countryman. The air was nothing like the air in Long Beach, California. It took her three and a half days to get to Haven, Maine and all she wanted to do was sleep in a hotel somewhere. She pulled her long Sisterlocks into a ponytail and stretched. It was chillier than she expected and the light sweater and high waist shorts she was wearing was not cutting it. She read the sign of the Grey Gull. The food smelled nice and she actually needed a stiff drink. She walked up the creaky boards that gave her a nostalgic feeling. The inside was almost full and heads turned as she walked in. It's just cuz I'm new. Aira felt her shyness creep over her as eyes scanned over her like she was a trespasser. People began whispering close together. Small town I guess, she hated people staring longer than they should. She sat down at the bar and grabbed the small bowl of pretzels. She popped one in her mouth and savored the salty treat. She grabbed the closes menu and scanned for something to satisfying appetite. She had her nose so deep into the menu she hadn't noticed a tall olive skinned man appear in front of her.
"What can I get for you?" he said, his voice playful.
She jolted her head up and smiled, slightly startled. "Oh! Hi!" she said cheerfully.
He stared into her light brown eyes with a look of surprise. She continued to smile nervously. "Excuse me for staring. I've seen many a pretty girl in here, but none that compares to you." He smiled.
She popped another pretzel in her mouth and grinned. "I bet you say that to all the girls from out of town." She laughed. His mouth turned into a playful grin that was cute and sexy at the same time.
"I'm Duke Crocker, owner here." Duke said. He extended his arm to her.
Aira reached to shake his large hand. "Aira Dawson, new here." She said.
"I see that. What can I get for ya?"
"How are the burgers here?"
"Outstanding." He beamed.
"I'll have to see for myself. I'll try the blackened bacon burger, with fries, tartar sauce and ketchup, please." Aira said, placing the menu down. She smiled at him.
"Anything to drink?"
"Lime margarita please."
"I'll get your order in." He winked at her and walked away. She pulled her tablet from her shoulder bag and typed in Haven Herald.
She typed in troubles into the search bar. When she got nothing, she typed in Stanford's in Haven, her mother's maiden name. She got black and white photos of both women and men with microphones in their hands performing right here in the Grey Gull, but it wasn't called that yet. There were bizarre articles saying that a member in her family had been brutally murdered by fans. Just like my mother…. She sighed and then smiled when she saw Duke coming with her rather large margarita.
"Upgraded it for ya," Duke said as he leaned over on the counter. His eyes glanced down to her tablet and noticed she was looking up happenings in Haven. His smile faltered only a little. "So what brings you to Haven?"
She took a sip of her margarita and moaned her delight. "This is great! Just as good as California's," She placed her glass down then looked up at him. "Well, Duke, I am here to find out what the 'troubles' are and why my mother had to die because of it." Aira deadpanned.
Duke looked stunned. Aira wanted to test his reaction, and she could tell that he knew something about these 'troubles'. He leaned in close to her and smirked, cocking his head to the side. "You know, you really shouldn't say something like that out loud like that." He whispered.
Aira raised an eyebrow. "Will someone try to murder me?" she whispered back, humor dancing over her words.
"They might." Duke answered. He was smiling but his brown eyes were telling her that he wasn't lying. "I might be able to help you out." He said. "Just a second,"
Aira watched Duke walk away towards the telephone. She took a slow sip from her margarita, wondering if she should throw cash on the table and leave, or wait to see if he was getting legitimate help. She didn't want to put herself in a bad situation but she just had to use her gun that she had in her bag if anything got to dicey. Thank God for my concealed carry license, and for military training. She thought nervously. She had never actually had to use her weapon when she deployed. She was only a diesel mechanic in the Air Force for ten years. That job didn't actually require you to shoot people, only to not get blown up while trying to go out and fix a vehicle. Duke appeared ten minutes later with her burger. She felt her mouth salivate at the generous helping of bacon they put on it. She scanned her plate for her condiments and found two sauce cups filled to the brim with tartar sauce and ketchup. She smiled at him, thanking him with her eyes, momentarily stunning him. He went to say something then turned and left abruptly, like he had somehow embarrassed himself. She shrugged it off then took a sinful bite of the juicy burger. She hadn't eaten all day, and the burger was fantastic.
As she mixed her tartar sauce and ketchup together, a man sat down next to her. When she looked over to check who he was, she noticed he was a cop. Her mind blanked. Why would a cop so obviously sit next to her after Duke making a call? "Hi, I'm Detective Wuornos, you can call me Nathan." said Nathan cheerfully. She wiped her hands and reached for his hand.
"Hi, I'm Aira." She said. "Do all newbies get a cop to greet them?"
"I guess only if you're asking the hard questions."
"And you know about these hard questions?"
"I might. What do you want to ask?"
Aira took a deep breath. "So these, troubles, they are real? I'm not crazy?" Aira locked eyes with him. She was hoping beyond hope that he knew what she wanted to know.
"Yes, they are real. As for the crazy part, well, I don't know you very well to make any assumptions." Nathan said.
"What are they?"
"I think we should have this conversation in a better location." He reached for a napkin and grabbed a pen from his pocket. "Meet me and my partner, Parker, tomorrow morning, anytime, so we can see if we can help you with your questions." He pushed over the napkin. It had the police station address and number, but below was a warning. 'Keep quiet, stay low.' She told him goodbye, but now she wasn't feeling all that hungry. She was beginning to worry that she might actually be killed. What were these troubles and why was everyone so hushed about them. Furthermore, why did she feel like she opened a giant can of worms? If they were such a big deal, they shouldn't have made it so easy to hack into their computers. Aira downed the rest of her drink, and flagged a female bartender with pretty green eyes.
She was glad she didn't have to pull out her gun. It would be kind of messy showing up in a new town then immediately killing someone, and she always aimed to kill. She got a doggy bag for her food and left a twenty-five percent tip. The food was good, what could she say. She was a little disappointed not to see Duke again, he was the first guy she thought was eye candy with his honey brown eyes and dark skin and shaggy hair. It always gave her the creeps when she noticed a guy was attractive. He seemed like the type of guy to play the field and she was not into that, with men. Now that female bartender, she wouldn't mind a roll in the sheets with.
She unlocked her car and drove towards the Haven Marriott. She could practically hear the bed calling her name, and it sounded so sweet. As she drove down the streets, she loved how quaint the buildings looked and how beautiful the ocean view was. She could see her living here in a place like this. Maybe there is some prime real estate near the ocean, a house boat maybe. Aira thought as she thought of possibly living off the water finally. Her mother was no longer around to try to keep her close to her as possible. The thought sent a pang of guilty regret. She loved her mother, she had been overbearing, but it was her mother.
She was glad to see the lights at the Marriott. She parked and ran to get a trolley to carry her many suitcases. She liked to be sure she had everything she needed, including the suitcase that had nothing but weed products in it. With her back the way it was, she needed every pre-roll, and oil products. She loaded the cart with her four suitcases and hauled her things to the counter. A skinny male smiled as she rolled up.
"Checking in?" he said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat nervously.
"Yes, Aira Dawson."
"Oh, you've prepaid for a month in the King Suite." His eyes widened, obviously impressed. "Do you need any help?"
"Yes please. I don't think I want to keep the cart." She beamed; unaware that she momentarily stunned him.
"Yes…I'll call someone immediately, ma'am." His cheeks turned a slight pink. He grabbed the phone and called for help.
Aira only had to wait a few seconds for a bellhop to come out to help her. He stuttered stepped when he saw her then plastered on a large smile, like he didn't know how to control his face. The bellhop followed her stiffly to her room on the top floor. She tipped him with a fifty dollar bill then admired the furnishings of her room. She first began in the bedrooms closet, putting up her clothes and her many shoes and accessories. Next, she put her bongs and rigs in the safe provided, she never trusted any staff when it came to having weed paraphernalia. After she finished setting everything up, she decided to take a huge hit from her rig and finish her burger. Tomorrow I get answers…hopefully.