The Travelers: Book One (3 page)

“What about you? Got some poor sap waiting for you back in Tampa?”

“Not a chance. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I had a date. What’s the pool like here, anyway?”

Isabel shook her head.

“Don’t even bother. Just a waste of time out here. Everyone has so much baggage; if I didn’t know better I would think that the airlines send us all the stuff they lose the way it piles up in this town. You don’t want to get caught up in small town drama.”

No, Gemma thought, she certainly didn’t. The thought of going on a date, flirting, maybe even getting a good night kiss didn’t sound totally terrible, but she didn’t know what she would do with an actual relationship. Maybe it was for the best.

Gemma kept Izzy company through the rest of her shift and after the bar was cleaned and closed down, they headed back to Gemma’s for a cup of coffee and a bit more gossip.

They sat across from each other at her kitchen table, each taking sips of their drinks in turn. Izzy chose a dark espresso roast today and Gemma opted for a lighter breakfast blend not really wanting to be up all night.

“So how long have you worked there? It seems like everyone knows you.”

“Yeah,” Izzy answered, “I’ve been there since high school. Started off as a dishwasher. The owner’s an old drunk, but he loves me like a daughter so I get away with whatever I want and I make pretty decent money for someone actually working in town. Most people that make a living around here have to commute.”

The new information made Gemma take pause; was she going to be able to find a new job here? What were her prospects really going to be like?

Sensing her uneasiness, Izzy reached across the table and patted Gemma’s hand for reassurance.

“Hey, you’re going to be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Gemma smiled with a nod, but the smile never made it to her eyes. She couldn’t stop thinking that she may have made a terrible mistake in coming here.

Still, she met Izzy and that in and of itself was worth the move. Izzy was the long-lost best friend that Gemma didn’t even know she was missing.

“You wanna do this again tomorrow?” Izzy asked while stifling a yawn.

“Yeah, definitely,” Gemma answered, taking their empty mugs to the sink.

“All right
chica
, have a good night.”

Izzy surprised her with a quick hug before she left Gemma alone in her empty little cottage again.

Chapter 2

That was Gemma’s routine for the next couple of weeks. Every morning she went for a walk with her coffee, she said ‘hello’ to Eustis and whichever of her other neighbors were out and about. She began to like the slower pace of Hannaford Glen. In the city she’d gone three years without ever meeting a single one of her neighbors. The sense of community here astounded her and everyone went above and beyond to make her feel welcomed.

Her friendship with Isabel blossomed, too. Nearly every night that Izzy worked, Gemma went up to Santorini’s to chat, gossip and keep her friend company during the lulls. On Izzy’s days off, they spent the afternoon inside, watching soap operas and drinking wine coolers.

“Can you believe Henrietta impersonated her twin sister to sleep with her husband?” Izzy asked after a particularly thrilling episode of
Days of Young and Beautiful Liars
.

“So crazy! And Genevieve in that train accident! Do you think she’ll live?”

“I don’t know, I heard they were in negotiations with her contract.”

“Oh man,” Gemma frowned, “that would suck, she’s one of my favorites!”

“She’s such a twisted bitch though!”

“That’s why I love her!” Gemma answered brightly.

Izzy laughed, polishing off her drink just as her phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket and frowned at the screen.

“What’s up?”

She didn’t look up from the screen and Gemma couldn’t help but worry about the concerned look on her friend’s face.

“Oh… nothing. Hey, sorry to dip like this, but I have to go take care of something, okay?”

Gemma really didn’t like the sound of Izzy’s excuse.

“Are you sure everything’s all right?”

“Cross my heart,” Izzy said distractedly as she slipped back into her shoes, frantically typing a response on her phone.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, leaving without giving Gemma their now-customary hug.

The next day came and went and there was no word from Izzy. Gemma wondered if she should be worried. It didn’t seem like Izzy to ignore her texts, but they really hadn’t known each other long enough for Gemma to be a great judge of that.

By the second day, Gemma decided to go up to Santorini’s. Whether Izzy was answering her text messages or not, Gemma wanted to make sure her friend was okay.

Part of her was actually disappointed to see Izzy’s familiar face behind the bar; she was relieved her friend was okay, but hurt that she’d been ignoring her for a couple of days.

Gemma slid into her normal seat and Izzy made her a drink without saying anything. A strange sensation prickled the back of Gemma’s neck and she couldn’t stop thinking that something was wrong.

“Hey,” she said, trying to get Izzy’s attention, “I haven’t heard from you in a couple of days. Is everything okay?”

Izzy looked surprised to see her there and shook her head like she was trying to clear it of unwanted thoughts.

“Yeah. I lost my phone, sorry I didn’t come over yesterday. I was… busy.”

Gemma nodded, sipping her drink, pretending to believe the story.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right, you know?”

Izzy smiled and patted Gemma’s hand softly, “Thanks, you’re a good friend.”

Before Gemma had a chance to respond, someone on the other side of the bar caught Izzy’s attention. Gemma couldn’t make the man out in the dimly-lit restaurant, but Isabel did not seem happy to see him.

Her jaw instantly clenched into a firm line and her eyebrows drew together in annoyance.

“Give me a sec,” she said to Gemma, holding up a finger to her friend without ever making eye contact. She never took her eyes off of the man at the other end of the bar.

It was difficult to hear what they were talking about over the blaring jukebox in the corner, but Izzy was so animated when she spoke that Gemma could easily read what she was saying by hand gestures alone. She didn’t know why it made her so nervous that Izzy was cursing this guy out. The way he stood there and took the abuse without a response made her almost feel bad for the shadowy stranger.

Finally after a long whispered tirade from Izzy, he tried to speak and she held her hand up to his face, interrupting him.

“No. I don’t want to hear it,” Gemma heard Izzy say.

“Get the hell out…”

She folded her arms across her chest after pointing him toward the door, she didn’t even look at him as he sulked out. Gemma only caught a glimpse of the tall dark-haired stranger as he left.

“
Cabron
,” Izzy hissed as she returned to Gemma, still glaring through the door though her target was long gone.

Gemma just raised her eyebrows in question.

“Oh, don’t even get me started. He’s not worth the breath,” Izzy answered Gemma’s unspoken words.

Gemma nodded, not wanting to provoke Izzy any more. She already felt like she was treading on thin ice and she didn’t even know why.

She finished her drink much more quickly than usual and made her way home without saying much else to Izzy. She couldn’t explain the feeling even to herself, but something just felt
off.
Izzy didn’t quite seem like herself, but Gemma couldn’t put her finger on the problem.

She eventually chalked her reservations up to her own paranoia. There was nothing
off
about Izzy. She was just over-thinking things as usual, she reminded herself. There was no use in getting all worked up over nothing. Izzy wasn’t mad at her, she hadn’t done anything to offend her, there was no reason for her to be freaking out like this.

It was a fitful night of sleep; Gemma tossed and turned, unable to shake the feeling that something just wasn’t right. She’d never really had much in the way of intuition, but right now her instincts were screaming at her. She tried to push them aside. She tried to go about her normal routine.

But nothing was normal.

The sky was clouded over, the sun shone still behind the dense blanket, the reflected rays making the sky a nearly blinding white despite the faint drizzle.

Sunshowers. She was used to them being a Floridian, but they typically were an afternoon occurrence. In Tampa you could damn near set your watch by the 4 o’clock thunderstorm, but she’d yet to see one in Hannaford Glen.

The rain was off and on during her walk, leaving her exhausted and the tiniest bit cranky by the end of it. Eustis ran up to the fence as usual as she approached, but instead of his cheerful wagging tail and lolling tongue, he greeted her with an aggressive bark and a low snarl. Gemma took a step back from the fence, surprised by the sudden change in the dog’s demeanor.

“What’s up, buddy?” Gemma asked, still keeping her distance from to snarling dog.

Eustis stuck his muzzle through the fence, snapping and growling at Gemma.

“Mrs. Kruft?” Gemma called, “Is everything okay with Eustis?” It was out of character for the always happy pup to be so vicious.

The old lady looked out at her from behind a screen door.

“He’s protecting my property! Why are you hanging around out there? Scoping the place out? Trying to rip off a little old lady? Well, not while Eustis is around. He’ll protect me,” she raved before slamming the door closed.

Gemma heard the distinct sound of the door’s tumblers locking into place and she just stood dumbfounded in the middle of the sidewalk for a moment not knowing how to respond.

Maybe everyone was just having an off day. Maybe it was a full moon or Friday the 13th or someone broke a mirror — there had to be an explanation for the strange behavior of everyone around her.

But if there was an explanation, she certainly couldn’t find it.

A few more days passed, each one more cloudy and miserable than the last. By the end of the week, Gemma didn’t even want to leave her house any more. Eustis wasn’t the only animal effected by whatever was going around, either; the past few nights Gemma had failed to get any sleep at all because of the howling and caterwauling of brawling animals in the streets. It was enough to drive her insane, but she tried to keep her cool.

Izzy’s lack of presence weighed heavily on her mind, too. On more than one occasion, Gemma walked or drove by Izzy’s house, debating whether she should check on her friend or not. Each time she told herself that she would be over-stepping some kind of boundary. She tried to call Izzy every day, not knowing if she’d ever gotten a new phone or not, but there was never any answer.

She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t worth panicking over. Izzy said she was busy the last time they saw each other. Maybe she was just too busy for Gemma. It wouldn’t be the first time that she’d heard that excuse.

Finally, after a week of clouds and rain, the sun started to break through for the first time. It seemed like the perfect day for sunbathing with a cold drink and a good book to take her mind off of all the recent unpleasantness.

With a blanket, a Kindle and a hard lemonade in hand, she spread herself out on the grass in her yard before slathering on sunscreen to protect her fair complexion. She didn’t know why she thought she might be able to have a moment of privacy, but Mr. Garaldi quickly proved her wrong.

“Good morning, young lady!” The old man called over the picket fence that separated her front yard from his.

“Hello, Mr. Garaldi,” she replied, a polite smile curving her lips but never quite making it all the way to her eyes.

Maybe she’d underestimated how much she enjoyed her privacy. At first she liked the community feel, but she didn’t exactly feel comfortable with her elderly neighbor peeking over her fence while she was in a bikini. Her sunglasses let her focus her attention on something other than the old man without looking rude. She wished that Izzy would come to her rescue with Mr. Garaldi like she had so many times in the past, but Izzy was no where to be seen.

“How does this fine day find you, Miss?” He asked with a slight tremble in his raspy voice.

“Same as usual. You?” Gemma answered, laying her head back, hoping he would take the hint.

The octogenarian remained oblivious and continued to prattle on about various goings-on in the area. Gemma tried to maintain the image of being politely interested; though instead of listening to what he said, she spaced out, trying to find patterns in the liver spots covering his shiny bald head, like looking for constellations in the night sky. Whatever hair was missing from his head migrated to his eyebrows and — to Gemma’s amusement — his nose. She tried to ignore the long hairs that curled from his nostrils and the faint wheezing that came from them with every heavy exhale.

He was a harmless old man; the least she could do was humor him for a little while. He was probably just lonely, she thought to herself, realizing she may have been a bit harsh on some of her solitary neighbors. Feeling a sudden burst of empathy, she tuned her attention back to what he was saying.

“The Drewers, the Fulmonts, the Browns, the Lius…”

She had to stop him, her brain scrambling for comprehension.

“What about all of them?”

His eyebrows raised and he took a deep breath, ready to give his practiced speech again, this time to an attentive audience.

“They’ve all reported a pet missing in the last week. The animal shelter is overrun with reports, but none of the critters are turning up. If you ask me… Well, if you think about it, when was the last time you saw a stray out here? If you think about it, it was probably a while ago. Pretty spooky if you think about it, don’t you think?”

Gemma frowned; what exactly was Mr. Garaldi suggesting?

“I try not to think about it,” she replied honestly.

It struck Gemma as odd that so many people were reporting missing pets when every night she saw the creeping shadows and heard the keening wails of animals on the prowl. It was bad enough that they were keeping her up at night, but two nights ago the animals ripped Emily Drewers’ car cover to shreds. The last thing she wanted was a yard full of debris after someone’s beloved pet decided to ransack her garbage can or even worse property destruction; she was on the verge of calling the animal shelter herself, but what Mr. Garaldi was saying didn’t match up with her experiences.

Was he senile or was she going insane?

With her sunny mood doused for the day, Gemma retreated into her home after a polite goodbye. She wiled the day away, flipping through channels, trying not to think about how badly she wanted to talk to Izzy about everything going on.

She felt that Izzy’s disappearance was completely out of character, but she hadn’t even known her for a month; could she really make that kind of judgment call?

“That’s it. I’ve had enough of this moping around feeling sorry for myself,” she announced, turning the TV off before slipping into a pair of flip flops and grabbing her keys on the way out of the door.

It wasn’t a long walk to Izzy’s house, but a strange tingle on the back of Gemma’s neck told her she should drive there just to be safe.

The street lamp near her car flickered and she could just hear Albert’s voice in the back of her head: “See? It’s a safety concern and only when the community members make their voices heard can we address issues like this.” She noticed that his flier on the telephone pole about the neighborhood speeder was now covered by a multitude of ‘Lost Pet’ posters stapled all over. She frowned and thought back to the Neighborhood Watch leader.