The Chalice Thief Read online

On the way out of the Inn I spotted another of our resident ghosts leaning up against the far wall. Lachlan Halliburton is a gentleman ghost from the 1800s. He was one of the first deaths ever on these grounds. Before there was even an Inn here, in fact. He doesn’t say much, and he was a handful the first few times he and I came in contact, but he’s turned into a decent houseguest. He’s got a habit of knocking against the walls, but it keeps the tourists interested in the rumors of the Inn being haunted. Tourism equals money, so knock away, I say!

  He hadn’t been a very tall man in life, and a blocky face, unremarkable blue eyes and rust colored hair would’ve made him all but forgettable to anyone who met him back then. He still wears the crisp white shirt and leather suspenders that he had on when he died. He was a con man back then, one who specialized in using disguises to hide his identity. That carried over with him to the afterlife, too.

  When he was sure I was looking at him, he covered his face with both hands.

  Even though I knew what’s coming it still annoys me to see him whisk his hands away and reveal my face, and my hair, and even my unicorn necklace around his neck. He’d become me. Or rather, a representation of me.

  Lachlan’s a gentleman ghost, but he also reckons he’s a comedian.

  I stuck my tongue out at him, and he sticks his tongue out at me, mimicking my own expression with my face. Or his face, I mean. My face on his face. Ugh. I was used to him changing himself over to look like whoever he wanted but that didn’t make it a thing I could easily put into words. It also made me wonder how many times I’d seen him in the Inn, masquerading as someone else, and not even noticed he was there. To me ghosts look just like everyday people unless I’m focusing on them real hard. Or until they disappear through a wall.

  As I was just about to walk past him, his face changed again. This time it became an old woman’s. Long silver hair and brown skin wrinkled and creased from decades of exposure under the sun. It was handsome, in the way that old women sometimes become in their twilight years. He wasn’t mocking me by showing what I would look like when I was old and gray—although he’s done that before. Not since I gave him a good talking to, but still. Something like that stays with you.

  No, this woman’s face wasn’t mine. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever seen it before.

  Lachlan pointed to his new face and the way he did made me shiver. He was trying to tell me something. I just couldn’t figure out what.

  Sometimes it was easier to play charades with a ten year old than understand what a ghost meant to say. I’ve a friend who can do spirit communications, but that’s not my thing. Seeing ghosts is enough for me, thank you.

  Although I sure wish I knew what Lachlan was warning me about now.

  Gripping my unicorn necklace in my hand, I walked past him, and out into the afternoon sunshine of a beautifully mild Lakeshore day.

  I’ve lived in this town for the majority of my life. There was that stint in Uni, of course, learning everything I needed to know about business while Rosie and I made our dream of owning an Inn become a reality. My point is that I’ve lived here long enough to see several changes in this town. Some of it good, some of it bad, and some of it just the way of the world. Time moves on, as I like to say.

  One thing you need to know is why everything in town is white.

  My Inn’s painted a pretty shade of yellow, and I had to fight with the town council to make that happen. Everything else is white paint as far as the eye can see. White houses. White businesses. White picket fences.

  It’s a graffiti artist’s dream, and don’t think the police haven’t stopped that a time or two. Of course the upside is it’s easy to paint over when it happens. Just add more white paint.

  Here’s the reason. Back in Australia’s early history the British shipped boatfuls of their criminals here. They were used as slave labor to carve a new colony out of the landscape for the Crown. Well, as will happen, whole groups of prisoners escaped and started roaming about stealing what they needed to survive, and doing worse than that.

  Some of these Bushrangers made their way through Lakeshore, once upon a time, taking whatever they wanted and then burning most of the town to the ground before they left. Being just as hearty and stubborn back then as we are now, them early Australians rebuilt their town. They used whitewash to paint it all. It was the cheapest solution.

  Mayor Percy Brown is a stickler for tradition. To this day, we keep everything painted white as a nod to our history. We like to remember where we came from. Maybe not all of it. What happened to the indigenous population, the Palawa, for instance. Don’t know anyone who liked to remember that bit, or who thinks it was right. It’s our history good or bad. We shouldn’t forget, so it won’t ever happen again.

  In this case, the thing that’s brought all that to my mind is the changes Alfonse Calico has made to the Thirsty Roo Tavern. It’s still white on the outside like everywhere else, but the soul of the place has changed for sure. Used to be just another boozer, a place for men to get drunk and be dumb. Now, with a real B-list celebrity as the owner, it’s become the go-to hangout for anyone visiting the Hartz Mountains wanting to stop and wet their whistle. Still serves every type of amber fluid known to civilized Taswegians, but it’s got a reputation for decent food and decent company as well.

  Plus, Alfonse likes to give impromptu concerts from time to time, reminding people why he was one half of the best-selling pop duo in Australia. Ten years ago, mind you, but he’s still got his voice.

  It’s a short walk from the Pine Lake Inn to the Thirsty Roo, just like it’s a short walk from the Inn to anywhere in Lakeshore. The police department’s at the far end of town and half the time I’ll walk there if I need to see Kevin, or else I’ll ride my trusty bicycle. No need for me to even own a car. We keep one on hand at the Inn for guests to borrow, or for the owner, me, to use whenever she suddenly remembered the rest of the world’s too far to get to by foot.

  Today I was walking, and when I got to the swinging saloon-style doors of the Thirsty Roo I noticed there was quite a crowd. A few of the locals were standing outside on the porch under the wooden awning with their pints in hand. One of them was Jacob Emperion our hardware store owner. Guess he closed up shop already. Not unusual for a Saturday. He lifted his coldie to me in a sort of hello that I answered with a quick nod before going inside. Considering the business my handyman gives Jacob, it’s no wonder he’s always happy to see me.

  The long polished surface of the bar dominated one side of the room, and tables were scattered around the rest. All of them were currently occupied. Most of the stools at the bar too. The whole room was a loud hum of laughter and conversation and clinking china plates. The special of the Thirsty Roo on Saturdays was a chicken stew that would make Rosie jealous. Not that we minded the competition. The Inn, the Thirsty Roo and Cathy Morris’s Milkbar were the only places in town to catch a bite. Not like one more place to eat was going to put us out of business.

  The inside of the tavern was lit brightly. Used to be dark and gloomy in here before Alfonse took over. Now the walls have been painted a light purple with murals of smiling kangaroos here and there holding up longnecks. Thirsty roos. Get it?

  The whole place was just warm and inviting. I kinda liked it. The tourist crowd seemed to feel the same way. Most of the rest of the locals, I think, just tolerated the changes. So long as the pints kept flowing that’s all that mattered. Drew Norstrom, serving over there at the bar, was doing his best to make that happen tonight.

  At the corner table, my son Kevin was waving at me.

  He’s a good looking man, my son is. A lot more of me in him than his father, including those freckles across the bridge of his nose. His bristle-short hair is a similar reddish-brown to mine, even if his green eyes are a shade darker. The muscles of his arms and chest strain the dark blue uniform shirt he’s wearing and more than one lady in the room is casting their eyes his way. Too bad for them. He’s already got a good woman in his life.
/>
  Odd that he’s in uniform on a Saturday. That senior sergeant’s badge of his does look good on him, I have to say that. Took him a long time to get that position even though he’d earned it ten times over. I’m proud of my Kevin.

  Sitting next to him, his sister offered me a weak smile. Two months after we found out their father—my husband—had been murdered, and we still weren’t sure how to reconnect with each other. Stood to reason, I suppose, considering how Carly had spent most of her adult life blaming me for her father’s leaving. That was back when we thought he’d run off. Now that we know he was murdered and taken away from us… well, I’ve been able to forgive myself. Not sure Carly’s quite there yet. How do you just give up years of anger?

  She inherited her looks from her father, truth be told. Hair black as night, recently cut into a pixie style. The way her jaw slanted just so. Eyes that were that special mix of hazel filtering to golden brown near the center. It was her father I saw looking back at me whenever we were together, shadowed there in the face of this beautiful young woman. I’ve wanted to tell her that so many times, and I’ve just never found the courage.

  She’d taken to wearing copper jewelry in the time she was away from me. Several bracelets on both wrists chimed with every move she made. The necklace around her neck was made of hand-beaten square links. She had a unique sense of style, Carly did. It worked for her.

  So here’re my two children, together again with me. Carly was staying in a room at the Inn for now, although that seemed to be turning into a more permanent thing than either of us had expected.

  I was hoping it would give us time to work our way through all the emotion we’d been buried under for years, because I desperately wanted to heal our relationship. I wanted things between me and Carly to be as easy as they were between me and Kevin. They were two different people, and I know that, but a mother’s got to hope for something better for her kids.

  I slipped into one of the empty seats at the table and immediately there was a waitress at my elbow to ask if I wanted something to drink and to see a menu. I said yes to both, and asked for a longneck to start. “Are you guys eating?”

  Kevin raised his own bottle. “Starting with drinks. Didn’t want to order until you were here.”

  “Ellie’s not joining us?”

  He smiled at the mention of his fiancé. Which is just as it should be. “Not tonight. She has homework, of a sorts. Her company put some new policies in place and they need her approval.”

  “Good for her. She’s really moving up, eh? Well, let’s have a look, then.” I knew most of the dishes on the menu. I’d tried more than a few of them, actually, in a comparison test with what we serve at the Inn. Truth be told Alfonse Calico puts on a nice spread, but ours is better.

  “Maybe,” Carly said, “you’d like someone else to make the choice for you.”

  Oh, snap. The comment was so innocent on the surface that no one around us would hear the acid in those words. Delivered in her sweet tenor, I might have missed it myself. That is, if I didn’t know my daughter so well.

  “Carly…” I start to delve into the past, and then stop myself. No. Now wasn’t the time. So much left to say between us and no common ground to start from other than both of us losing someone we loved. Her father, my husband.

  “Leave off, Sis,” Kevin said in that gentle way of his. “This family’s been through enough already. We’re back together now. Isn’t that enough?”

  Carly took a breath like she wanted to say something, but then she just nodded her head and took a sip of her water. Not much of a drinker, that one. I tried to catch her gaze but she kept her eyes on the red tablecloth. Not much of a talker, either.

  Kevin cleared his throat. “All right, you two. Enough of that.”

  “What?” Carly and I said, at the exact same time, in the exact same tone of voice.

  She managed a smile, and so did I. There were moments when the gap between us didn’t seem to exist. When we were just mother and daughter. Like it should be.

  Then there was every other minute of the day.

  “Now there’s a picture of a happy family!” a booming voice said, and Alfonse Calico came sweeping over to our corner table. His smile was the brightest thing in the room. He’s a tall man with a wiry body and a shaved head glistening with tonic oils, the very image of a stage performer. His skin was the deep, dark brown of hot cocoa, a vast contrast against the white silk shirt that he had open to the fourth button down his chest. He’d added more gold chains around his neck since last week, and the diamonds flashing on those rings were definitely real.

  “Hey, Senior Sergeant,” he said to Kevin, extending his hand. They shook, and exchanged a few words. Then he turned to Carly with a wink. “How’s it today, beautiful?”

  Carly leaned back in her chair, folding her hands into her lap. “I’m fine, Alfonse. Does that husband of yours know that you’re out here flirting with the customers?”

  “Hey now, flirting’s just an ugly word for being friendly.”

  I laughed at his usual bravado, but Carly didn’t seem to know whether to take Alfonse seriously or not. I could understand why. It took me a while to get used to him when he first got to Lakeshore. “So what’s new, Alfonse?”

  “Oh, I got me some brand new songs to try out. Co-wrote them with my husband, really psyched about it. Me and Dan are just great together.”

  “I’ve always said so,” I told him, putting the menu aside. “Those were great photos from your wedding in the papers, by the way. It was nice publicity for our town, too.”

  “Well, thank you so much, Miss Dell. That’s not what I meant, though. I mean he’s as good a songwriter as I am a singer. Here. Take a listen.”

  He brought his hand up to his throat, humming a few notes to warm up his voice, and then started out soft and low with words that flowed smoothly together. It was a song about finding love in the streets of a lonely city, and I found my mind picturing the story he was weaving as I listened.

  The entire room fell silent and listened, in fact. Alfonse knew how to play to a crowd. Through the entire bridge and refrain he turned about in a circle, lifting his arms out high as he finished with one long, ringing note. It was a thing of beauty.

  Applause rang through the Thirsty Roo as Alfonse bowed. It was a long moment before everyone went back to their dinners. This was a very different place than what it used to be before Alfonse arrived in town.

  “Oh,” he said, turning back from the admiration of the room to our table. “That’s not all I’m unveiling tonight. Sure, the song’s important with the new album coming out, but I got a certain something special to show everyone. Wanted to do the big reveal tonight when I knew my place would be packed. Supposed to be some reporters here, too…”

  He cast his gaze around the room, obviously disappointed that there weren’t any members of the press around. Then he shrugged. “Ah, well. Thought that man of yours would be here at least, Dell.”

  I cleared my throat, sharing a glance with Kevin. “James and I aren’t together anymore, Alfonse.”

  “No?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting at the very thought. “Shame. Two of you were real good together. James is a fine reporter, too. Oh, well. Hope things work out for the two of you. I really do. Well. How ‘bout this. Come on with me for a minute. I’ll let you have a sneak peek at what I’m going to show everyone. Got it in the back room, won’t let it out until later, but I suppose I could let you all have a sneak peek if you like. It’ll make you feel better, Dell. Promise. Come on.”

  “I’m not upset, Calico, me and James are just…” Broken up, was the end of that sentence, but he was already off. The way he waved his hand left little room for us to say no.

  Besides, I had to admit I was curious about what he thought would top the unveiling of a new song by Alfonse Calico. The radio still played some of the songs that he had made as one half of the singing duo Commonwealth. The idea of him producing new music? That would be epic.
r />   “I’m game,” Kevin said. “I’ve got some things going on at the station tonight but I’d love to have me a look see. Lead on, Alfonse.”

  “Um,” Carly said, her eyes darting away. “I think I’ll just stay out here. Thanks.”

  I wanted to tell her to come with us, that it would be fun, but I’ve already come to the realization that pushing her is not the way to get her to open up. She needs time. I’m willing to give it to her.

  Because hey, that’s what mothers do.

  Alfonse led us across the room. As we went past the bar, Drew caught my eye and waved. He was pouring out a shot of whisky for someone so all he had time to do was wave hi. He moved here to Lakeshore a couple of years back and I really don’t know that much about him. Not much older than Carly, if I remember. He’s got this blonde hair cut in a choppy style that even hair gel wouldn’t set right. Deep blue eyes. Cleft chin. Kind of cute, I’d say, if I wasn’t already old enough to be his mother. I waved back, wondering why he’d gone out of his way recently to be nice to me. Not that I minded. Just odd, is all.

  We went to the door off to the side of the bar, the one that led into the storage area that I remembered so well from the time someone had tried to kill Alfonse. Long story, that one. The keypad lock on the door had been installed after all that. Thankfully things have quieted down in Lakeshore again and now we can—

  My mobile rang in my pocket, the special ringtone I’d programmed in for my best friend, and I just knew I was going to have to eat the words I’d been about to say.

  Quiet isn’t a word that fits well in Lakeshore.

  From my phone the Happy Birthday song played until I connected the call.

  “Hello?” I said, holding up a finger to stall the question on my son’s face.

  “Dell! Oh, Dell, it’s time!”

  “Mom?” Kevin asks when I quickly stuff the phone back in my pocket. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go,” I told him. “Sorry, Alfonse. I’ll come back soon as I can, I promise.”