Auntie's Hotel

Ch 3 As Good Days

As Good Days Go

A crease of sunlight appeared over the outline of the forest in Brian Jensen's back yard. The trees weren't his as in he didn't plant them there, and he didn't watch them grow from saplings, but some were a part of his property. They were always there to welcome him in the morning, whether he was sitting at his small kitchen table drinking his morning coffee or out in the yard splitting wood before he had to report to work. They were predictable and changed with the seasons just as he always expected them to. There was no guessing as to whether or not they would be there tomorrow or the next day. They simply always did what was expected.

They were dependable. He liked that about them. He needed things to be dependable. If he needed a few logs to heat the house in the winter, Brian could depend on the harvest from the previous Spring. If he needed shade in the hot summer, he could sit under their branches.

Today, like most other days, Brian simply needed them to be there so that he could watch the birds as they dove from their branches to catch their morning meals. Perhaps this calming view of the birds as they pulled at earthworms in his backyard, was the best way to relax every morning before having to report to the office.

He didn't have to think about the calls that would come in reporting suspicious activity in another person's yard. These calls were usually the result of someone digging in their flower beds or setting the foundation for a shed or burying a pet. Brian didn't have to think about the missing pet reports that would come across his desk. Rarely ever was there a missing persons report. Those would be more fun, of course. Those would require more actual field work. He would be able to talk to people about something that mattered and not some cat stuck in a tree or some dog that the owner forgot they left chained up outside.

On occasion, Chesterfield had its real problems. A fight between drunks at the local pub or a dispute between spouses might cause one to get injured enough to have to be taken to the hospital. This usually meant a long night for Brian. There hadn't been many major problems since his first night over 10 years ago, but he tried not to dwell on that. There hadn't been an arson or a murder case like that since. The visions still haunt him. Mary Clayton, his fiance, had died that night, caught in the flames of her family's farm house. The case was never solved, and the arsonist was never caught.

The event wasn't just traumatic for him. The entire Village of Chesterfield mourned the loss of Mary Clayton. Everyone in the village knew Mary Clayton. The Mayor, her father, left office and the Chief of Police stepped down from his position, and no one has seen him since. Brian Jensen sought the arsonist for several years, but there wasn't enough to pin the event on anyone and there hadn't been any repeat arsons.

Brian's cell rang, sitting on the counter near the sink. The birds took flight, startled by the vibration. He looked in the direction of the phone, but didn't want to get out of his seat to go and answer it. Letting it ring and go to voicemail wasn't going to work this time. Ten seconds after the fourth ring, the cell rang again. He had to answer it.

He set his coffee mug down on the table and stood up, scooting his chair back with the rear of his legs. He slumbered over to the counter, not wanting this to be another bad call. Brian didn't want to go in today. He didn't want to be bothered.

Without looking at the number, he picked up the phone and set it next to his ear, listening to the moment of silence.

"Brian?" Beth asked, certain she had reached the voicemail again. "Is it you? Or your bloody box?"

"Yes, Beth," he replied. "Who's cat..."

"Oh, good! Brian," she interrupted. "No cats today! You need to hurry in. Might want to bring the cruiser. We've got some excitement brewing in Chesterfield!"