Endangered by Kate Jaimet

Author:Kate Jaimet
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2015-06-23T00:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

A twenty-minute walk took me to the Midtown Tavern. It felt good to be back in the city, with its houses and cars and shops and concrete sidewalks, and people who bathed and shaved regularly—most of them, anyways.

The Midtown had a reputation as the last blue-collar dive in downtown Halifax and the moment I stepped inside, I could see why.

There wasn’t a brass tap or an oak beam in the place. No lighthouses, no puffins, no model sailing ships. No guitarist belting out “Farewell to Nova Scotia.” Not a German tourist in sight. The decor consisted of dim lighting, wobbly Formica tables on a warped linoleum floor, beer signs advertising Propeller Bitter, and deep window-ledges crammed with dusty sports trophies and dead flies. A bunch of men my dad’s age glanced up from their beers when I opened the door. They looked friendly but puzzled, like I must have wandered into the wrong establishment. Oh, no, dear, you want the Liquor Dome; it’s just down the way.

“Hayley!” Constable Turpin waved to me from the back. He and the Coast Guard guy were sitting at a table covered with heaping plates of fried pepperoni and a nearly empty pitcher of beer. I went over to join them. The guys my dad’s age followed me with their eyes. I was the only thing with two x-chromosomes in the place.

Constable Turpin had changed out of his uniform and into a gray t-shirt with a logo from an RCMP charity hockey tournament. It was hard not to stare at the way his t-shirt fit over his broad, athletic shoulders. The fringe of hair over his forehead was damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower.

“Hayley, this is Constable Trevor O’Blenis,” Alex said, finally giving me a proper introduction to his buddy. Constable O’Blenis had jet-black hair, a square jaw, arms that went beyond brawny into serious iron-pumping territory, and a tan that was way too deep to be natural in Nova Scotia in June. He’d changed from his uniform into a t-shirt, jeans, and Teva sandals. He looked like he belonged in one of those Hunks of the Twelfth Precinct calendars. Sexy, if you liked brute force and a badge. It was a combination I didn’t trust.

Constable O’Blenis grabbed my hand and crushed it, just to show me he was the kind of guy who didn’t know his own strength.

“Call me Trevor. Rhymes with ‘forever,’” he said. He gave me a little twinkly look, like maybe we could get to know each other better later on. I sat down out of arm’s reach.

The waiter came up and I ordered an End Wrench. That’s orange juice mixed with tonic water. The name makes it sound alcoholic, but it’s not, and that’s why I ordered it. I don’t drink a lot, especially not in a bar with two guys I don’t know, but I don’t like to advertise the fact that I’m not drinking, either. Weird, the way guys think that if you don’t drink, you’re not tough.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.