So that’s what it was, she thought to herself. They were intense. Like predators. She wasn’t prey in this instance but hoped to God she never found herself on the other end of that intensity. “Interesting,” she said. “That will be a first at the bed-and-breakfast.”
“What’s the clientele normally like?” asked the guy sitting beside her.
Although he smiled, there was something uneasy about it. She glanced at him nervously, then moved her gaze back to the road. The traffic was on the mild side now, but it was still almost noon, so it would grow busier getting through the normal shopping and lunch hour. “Normally tourists wanting to spend a week or so,” she finally answered.
“Hmm.”
And again, nothing. She shook her head, checked both ways, and darted through an intersection. “The roads can be a little crazy,” she admitted. “And the drivers are definitely not the most mild-mannered, easy people around.”
“Interesting,” said the man behind her. “We’re used to crazy drivers though.”
“Where are you from?”
“Lately the US.”
“Oh,” she said. “Your flight came from Switzerland, out of Geneva though, right?”
“Yes.”
Again he didn’t elaborate. She frowned. “Well, you’ll like the breakfast offered at the B&B, and, after that, you can get lunch and dinner from plenty of little places around the village,” she said. “A couple grocery stores are within walking distance, if you just want a sandwich or something too.”
“Good,” he said. “Not sure how long we’ll be staying.”
“You’ve booked two rooms for two nights, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” he said.
She nodded and kept driving carefully through the area. People were well-known for jaywalking, as they crisscrossed the road, usually talking with their friends or with their arms full of fresh bread. She slowed her speed, as she watched several people step off the curb up ahead. But she was ready, and, before they ever made it partway through the street, she slowed down for them.
“I see that vehicles don’t get much respect either,” the guy up front said humorously.
“Small towns,” she said, “people get distracted.”
“And yet you stop, so that’s good,” the guy in the back said.
“What else would I do?” she asked in exasperation. “Hit them?”
“In the US, that might have happened,” he said with a laugh.
That made her smile. “Not here,” she said, as she pulled ahead, turned right, then left, and kept driving another seven blocks. Finally she pulled into a long driveway with access to the house at the back of the property. She pulled up to the front, which was a roundabout, then shut off the engine.
“This is our destination, gentlemen.” She hopped out and opened the trunk. Both men had their bags with them, but she took out her sign with their names on it.
Just as she closed the trunk, the front door of the house opened, and her aunt and uncle came out. Immediately they came to meet their visitors. She looked at her father, who sat in a rocking chair on the veranda. She dashed up the steps and said, “Hey, Papa. How are you doing?”
As usual, she got the same vacant look and lack of response, which broke her heart. She bent down, kissed him gently on the cheek, and tenderly gripped his hand. “It’s good to see you, Papa.”
She heard the chatter of voices behind her, as her aunt and uncle greeted the visitors and ushered them inside. Petra sat on the front porch in a rocker beside her father. He’d been like this for the last year and a half. He’d had a car accident and had initially appeared to recover, but then he took a terrible turn, nearly dying, and hadn’t emerged from this state of senility ever since. He ate, if the food was given to him, and drank, if a glass was put in his hand. Most of the time he would sit here and stare out at the scenery. If her uncle took her dad into the bathroom, he would go. If put into the shower, he would have a shower. But going from action to action was almost beyond him. It broke her heart to see him this way.
Her uncle looked after his physical needs; her aunt took care of his food and room. For Petra, well, she paid the bill. Sure, it was at a family rate, but somebody still had to come up with the money to keep her father. He had money of his own, but she hadn’t even pursued using it, hoping he would recover and need it himself—or, as a fallback, someday he may need a higher level of care, and she’d need his money then. He was a relatively young man and could live quite a long time, though he didn’t have much of a life at the moment. But Petra did what she could for him.
She also helped out her aunt and uncle whenever they needed it. Today was her day off, and, as soon as they found that out, they’d asked her to make the trip into town. It’s not that she minded so much; it’s just that going into the city was not what she wanted to do on her day off. With her free time, she pursued her personal medical research. Still, one didn’t always get the luxury of choices. And who knew that better than she did.
A chatty voice called out to her. She shifted her gaze from her father to her aunt, calling her.
“Come in, Petra. Come in,” she said. “You must come in.”
Groaning, Petra stood.
Chapter 2
Inside the kitchen, Petra walked over and put on the coffee. Her aunt seemed to think that, when Petra was here, she should play hostess, which was the last thing Petra wanted to do. She’d already been about as nice as she could possibly manage. Just something about these two new arrivals disturbed her in some way. Not necessarily in a bad way. In an unknown way. She shook her head. She would be very happy to take her leave sooner rather than later today.
Even the one who had spoken to her from the back seat had such a magnetic quality that it bothered her as much as the other one, who seemed more standoffish. They were both men she wouldn’t want to see in a dark alley. But almost immediately her rational mind corrected her. You don’t want to see them in a dark alley—unless of course they were on your side. And God help anybody else who was in that alley.
That’s really what it was all about. It was just that sense of men who do right.
As she waited on the coffee, she opened up the breadbox, which her aunt always kept full of pound cake. Petra brought one out, sliced several pieces, and put them on a plate. Then she loaded up the cake and coffee on a serving platter and took it in to the two men. They sat there, in the front sitting room, having what passed for a social conversation, but they obviously made her aunt and uncle feel uncomfortable.
Taking pity on them, once she saw the beseeching look in her aunt’s gaze, Petra sat down with her own cup of coffee. “These guys work in security,” she announced. “They’re just here for a couple days.”
Almost instantly her uncle relaxed. Whether it was the fact that they were only here for a couple days, or that they were in security, Petra didn’t know. “Are you working for a company then?”
The man who had sat in her front seat smiled. “More or less,” he said. “We’re just here to check out a few things.”
Maybe not lies but definitely evasive, yet it came across smooth and completely in control and seemed quite normal for him. That made her a little more wary. She smiled at her aunt and uncle and said, “I already introduced myself. Did you two?”