CHAPTER FOUR
Alice
With Luka around, Alice finds it hard to leave her room. Crippled by nerves, she only moves between rooms when he's out of the way and only really goes downstairs once he's gone to sleep for the night. It's ridiculous, really, and she knows that. Still, knowing her anxiety over this is largely irrational doesn't just make it go away like with the click of a button.
A couple days after he arrives, though, Alice messes up her timing. She wanders down to the kitchen quietly at around 11 p.m., expecting him to be asleep. As soon as she turns into the kitchen, however, that's quickly disproven. Luka is unloading the dishwasher quietly, a half-finished glass of water nearby.
The man looks up at a wide-eyed Alice. "Good evening, Ms. Lenore. Can I get you anything?"
She gapes before speaking. "It-it's unusual for people to be up this late, isn't it?"
"I would think you should be asking yourself that question," Luka teases, standing up straight and closing the dishwasher as he finishes the chore. "I'm a bit of a night owl. Is that a problem?"
Yes. Alice should say yes, but if she does so when she's a night owl herself, it will make her seem like a huge jerk. In reality, she just wants to avoid him. He must have noticed that. He has to have noticed that.
"No," she says quietly, "It's alright if you want to be up late. I-I do the same." Awkwardly, Alice runs her fingers through her messy bedhead.
Luka nods, downing the rest of his glass of water and rinsing it out before placing it on the now-empty dishwasher. Alice looks to him for more expression, more communication, anything, but he just keeps that same neutral, deadpan look. Unsure what to do, Alice shifts from foot to foot.
"Was there something you needed? Am I in the way?"
She holds up her hands quickly. "No! N-not at all."
Trying to not stand there awkwardly, she gets the glass of water she came down for and smiles at the man in front of her. He wipes down the counter before raising an eyebrow at her. "If I may ask, have I done something to offend you?"
Alice feels, somehow, that it's less of a genuine question and more of a polite question. A sad pang hits her heart. "I . . . no." She sighs, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "I’m a bit jittery with everyone. I'm not very good with men, either. I'm sorry."
"Well, you’re talking to me just fine by my standards," Luka points out with a tiny smile, grabbing a book she doesn't recognize from the counter. It must be his. Looks like Philip K. Dick. "I'm sure we'll get used to each other eventually." The man smiles very softly, almost imperceptibly. It's the small spark of life in his eyes, though, that really draws Alice in. She finds a slight blush tinting her cheeks, only noticeable by the heat that rushes there. Oh, God . . . She always does this. Not again. For once in your life, Alice, can you not act like a silly high schooler who crushes on the first guy who's nice to her?
"I-I'm sure we will," she chokes out, smiling too much.
Luka, however, doesn't smile again. He just looks a little uncomfortable and waves. "Goodnight, then. I'll see you tomorrow, Ms. Lenore." Waving, he returns to his room, and Alice is left in the dark.
She can’t read him at all. Alice thought for a moment that they were interacting OK just then, but his sudden return to an empty expression has her feeling confused. Is he just blank like that all the time?
She barely sees Luka again for another couple days except in passing. Admittedly, she avoids him—it’s not much of a surprise that they’re distanced from each other. That’s exactly what she wanted in the first place: someone she can avoid who could do cleanup work while she focuses on meeting the deadlines her editor and publisher put forth.
Sitting in her room alone, though, that doesn't feel like the case. Luka's asked a few times if he could clean her room, but she's turned him down every time. Alice pulls her legs close, tapping a pen against her legs on the swivel chair. The document in front of her displays a page half-finished. She's almost done with this chapter, but her heart isn't in it, and if her heart isn't in it the writing will be bad. That's just how it works. No passion, no novel.
Giving in, she sighs and drinks the last few swigs of coffee in her mug before standing up and stretching. Alice yawns and goes to the window, pulling the blinds out of the way with the cord and staring out. The sea is sparkling in the morning light. Some of that same light glints off of the wide windows of Clara's house.
God, Alice is bored. She gives in and tiptoes out the office door to her room. There, she throws on a dress, leggings, and a shawl. Port Murmure's still affected by spring chill, but most of the snow has melted by now. She pulls a comb through her hair, turning from side to side and staring at herself. Her eye bags are just awful. Desperate to fix the problem, she grabs a mascara bottle and shakily applies makeup. That doesn't help enough, so she smears some concealer underneath her eyes and throws on lip gloss. Clara always looks nice. Alice has to at least try.
Exiting her room, she moves downstairs. Luka is in the main room, wiping dust off of the windowsills. Clara plans the soft smile she'll give him when he turns, but he doesn't turn. The man stays focused on his work, and Clara swallows down a tinge of disappointment as she leaves through the front door.
The walk is brisk, with cool air nipping at her skin where it's uncovered. She breathes in cool air, feeling herself relax with every step. She should get out more often. It's always good for her.
As she approaches Clara's house, though, she sees an unfamiliar man. Slowing, she bites her lip. Should I just go home? He's blocking the front door and besides, she can't exactly just pretend he's not there and walk up to the front door. What if he's a boyfriend? Oh, my God, did Clara get a boyfriend? If she did, does that mean she'll stop talking to Alice?
Gathering her self-confidence, she slowly approaches the man. Once she's behind him, she speaks in a quiet tone. "Hello . . . ?" No response. He's in his own world. She speaks a little louder. "Hello there . . . ? Have we met before?"
The man jumps, whipping around. Inadvertently, Alice cries out and takes a few steps back. He's got an angry, territorial look in his eyes that makes Alice feel nervous. She holds her arms close to her body. After just a second, though, the expression melts away and the man stands up, smiling softly. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Narrowing her eyes, she asks the question on her mind. "Who are you?"
The man is tall, with tan skin and pitch-black hair. It's messy and kind of windblown. She's never seen him before as far as she remembers, but something about him seems familiar. "I'm a friend of Clara's," he says, smiling gently. “She didn’t tell you? I thought she had reached out to let you know I was visiting. You’re Alice, right? She’s told me all about you.”
Alice wants to kick her body when she feels her face flush. He's definitely a boyfriend, and I definitely missed it. Clara must have told me when we were out for coffee. I'm such a dolt. “I must have forgotten if she did tell me. ” She shifts nervously. "Is she here?"
"Yeah, but sleeping," the man says. She still doesn't know his name, but Alice already feels uncomfortable enough contributing passively to this conversation. "Is it urgent?"
"Oh!" Alice holds her hands up quickly, shaking her head and backtracking. “No, I just wanted to come say hello and talk to her, but if she’s asleep, I’ll go.”
The man grins sheepishly. He's not unattractive. Not really Alice's type, per se—too rough in appearance. He seems like he's pretty awkward, too, and Alice has more than enough awkwardness for herself and whatever partners she has. If this is the one Clara's dating, though, Alice is sure they'll be good together. Maybe. Hopefully. Are they together?
"Yeah, maybe for now," the man says. “Come back and we can all have coffee. You can tell me about your novels. Clara says they’re very good.”
Oh, God. Another wave of heat seeps into Alice's face, and she's sure she looks just like a tomato. "Of course," she says. Unsure what else to do with the conversation, she glances back at her house. “I’ll be going, but it was nice meeting you, uh . . . ?”
"Nathan," the man says, that nice smile still on his face.
"Nathan." Alice manages a smile and nods, backing up. "Well, bye!"
Alice hightails it out of there. The conversation was stuck, and, frankly, Alice has no clue what to do in that situation. She slows down from a jog to a walk as she goes up her driveway, trying to calm down. The cool air doesn't really help—she knows she's still flushed.
With her luck, it comes as no surprise that Luka's right by the door, sweeping up. Alice walks inside and immediately regrets it, wishing she'd gone through the back. This time, though, Luka doesn't ignore her. He looks up, opening his eyes a little wider. "Good morning, Ms. Lenore."
"Morning," she murmurs out, feeling nervous. He's between her and the kitchen. She wants water. Should I just drink water from the upstairs bathroom sink? No, that's ridiculous. She's being ridiculous. Face your fears, Alice. "H-how are you doing today . . . ?"
"Just fine." The man smiles slightly, an unusual sight for him. He pauses, face falling a little. "Are you alright? You look like you've got a fever."
Oh, no. If she explains what's going on, she'll have to admit she's blushing. Panicked, she blurts out the first answer that comes to her brain. "Y-yes, I think I might be getting sick."
It's a huge surprise when Luka steps forward and presses the back of his hand to her forehead. Alice breathes in sharply, pulling her arms close as the tall man furrows his eyebrows. "Your forehead feels warm."
"D-does it?" His touch is so light. Alice feels her heart quick and cheeks redden more. Luka flicks his tongue against his teeth like he's thinking. He starts to move away. "I can get a thermometer—"
"N-no—" Alice grabs his bicep, stopping him. "I'm sorry. it was just a blush. I was . . . " She trails off. "I didn't want to explain."
Luka turns back and blinks a couple times, raising an eyebrow. Realizing she's still holding his arm, Alice retracts her hand and pulls it close to her chest. Luka, however, doesn't break eye contact. She gets immediately lost in the gold of his eyes. Some part of her knows she's being awkward by not breaking eye contact, but she doesn't know how to stop.
The corner of Luka's mouth twitches, but he doesn't smile. Something lights up in his eyes and he tilts his head. "Are you alright? Is there a reason you're blushing? That doesn’t seem like something you need to be worried about explaining."
"I—" Alice doesn't know how to answer. She doesn't want to admit to being flustered by the vague comments of a stranger, especially comments a normal person wouldn't blush over. It spills out of her mouth anyway, coming out snappy. “The neighbor’s boyfriend is over. I-I told you I’m anxious around people. It’s n-not that complicated.”
Luka reaches and brushes a strand of wavy, blond hair behind one of Alice's ears. A shiver runs through her whole body and her lips part suddenly. It amazes her that he can look so neutral, so unaffected, so completely calm.
"Am I making it worse?" He asks quietly, something playful making his voice lilt.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God. He's flirting with her, isn't he? Below that knowledge is a feeling of blunt irritation that he’s taking advantage of her nervousness to tease her. Regardless, she can’t help but let herself be played. Her knees are wobbling just from his touch, making her feel like she might fall any second.
Actually, that's just what she does. Overwhelmed and in shock, her legs give out and she starts to drop. Breathing in sharply, she yelps but is caught before she hits the ground. A firm grip keeps her from falling, and she shakes into the muscular arms surrounding her as Luka pulls her back up to her feet. Feeling weak, she leans into his arms, and he tries to help her get stable.
"Oh, goodness," he murmurs in that deep, quiet voice. "Are you alright? Are you sure you aren't sick?"
He holds her out at arm’s length, keeping a grip on her just in case she falls again. Alice, however, is not an idiot. Social cues may be hard for her to read and this sort of situation may be hard for her, but she knows a flirt when she sees one and this man knows exactly what he's doing. Should I tell him off? Should I ask him to stop? Should I go back to my room? Her mind cycles quickly through all the options, leaving her unsure what to do.
"Mostly s-sure," she manages to choke out. His body is warm. Really warm. She thinks back to other boyfriends. Maybe he's just not from here? She's never seen him around town before, which means he has to be new. Port Murmure is tiny; everyone knows each other here. She could ask people. Maybe she should ask.
He pulls away carefully, making sure she's able to stand on her own. The absence of his touch is immediately felt sorely, and Alice swallows. She bites her lip. "I could get you medication, or perhaps start a bath . . . ?" he says.
Alice futzes with her hands. "I . . . no." Blushing again, but this time from embarrassment, she stares at the ground. Pushing herself away, she shakes her head. “You kn-know what you’re doing, and I don’t th-think it’s a funny joke.”
"Then I . . . what?" Luka tilts his head, some of his bronze locks falling into his eyes.
Swallowing, Alice fidgets by playing with the split ends of a long, blond strand. Slowly, she steels her expression and shakes her head. She’ll just cut him off and things will go back to normal. “You s-said yourself that you only call me by my last name to keep things impersonal. Let’s continue that, p-please.”
Nerves take hold of her again, making her already quiet voice trail off into absolutely nothing. Luka watches her for a second, waiting for her to continue. “Understood.” He doesn't move away.
Cornered, Alice finishes and steps away from him. The situation is tense, and Alice isn’t sure what else to say—she feels she’s been somewhat clear about this, but there’s still something in the air that she can’t pinpoint. The worst part about this whole situation is that Alice enjoys his flirting on some level.
It’s a miracle that she’s managed to dodge being more awkward than she already is in this sort of situation. Luka is an attractive man. Alice isn’t completely useless, though—she’s not about to start spilling all of her interest in him on the table, at least not openly. She’s sure he’s guessed by now.
He looks intrigued, but Alice gets the feeling that anyone else would look at him and see no change in expression. Being herself with her life experience as well as having lived with him gives her the ability to see those minute changes. She fixates on them, matching his curiosity with some of her own. Alice feels almost like she's been transported inside one of the romance novels she writes for work. If this were a romance, however, it'd hardly be an interesting one. Alice is no fantastic, adventurous person. Luka may be interesting to her, but she knows so little about him.
Luka looks about to speak, but she cuts him off out of curiosity, breaking up the atmosphere. "Where are you from?"
He furrows his brow and takes a few steps back. "Yukon," he answers curtly, grabbing his broom from a chair and getting back to sweeping.
With Luka refusing to elaborate any more, Alice finds herself forced to lead the conversation in a way she rarely does. "I haven't seen you in town. You must be new. Did you just move from Yukon?"
"No," he comments quietly. "I was going to college in Toronto."
"Was?" she inquires.
At this, Luka cuts her off and holds a hand up. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lenore. I don't share personal information with clients."
Alice laughs for once, a quiet and nervous thing. "I-I'd hardly consider that personal information."
Irritation shows in the man's face. He doesn't answer immediately, and Alice finds herself drawn to him, stepping forward. She rests a hand on his arm and squeezes it. "Luka? Is there something I've done wrong?"
"No," he shakes his head. "Actually, yes. You were the one who just indicated that I should be impersonal, and now you demand that I talk about myself. It strikes me as strange, to be quite frank."
For once, he doesn't sound completely in control of himself. That awkwardness, the same awkwardness that Alice sees in herself, draws her in. He keeps going. "You are my employer. I believe in maintaining personal distance in a work situation, and you just indicated that you’d prefer the same. "
"Oh." Alice tries her best to avoid looking disappointed, but she knows he's right. She said she wanted to keep things impersonal because he was flirting. Isn’t that different? Luka has to know that that’s different.
Frustration grabs hold of her, but she bites it town. Flicking her tongue against her lips, she smiles awkwardly. "If that's the case, why have you been flirting with me?"
Luka looks caught in the act, but he certainly isn’t flustered. He smiles, unbothered. "I wasn’t flirting," he lies. After a pause too short to give Alice any time to answer, he moves away toward the kitchen.
She stands there for a moment, shell-shocked. What just happened? He flirted with her, and he can pretend he didn’t, but Alice isn’t that much of an idiot. She rubs her arm through the shawl, unsure what to do. The whole situation has her feeling kind of dizzy.
Alice walks toward the stairs but pauses at the bottom, hand on the railing. She can hear Luka in the kitchen washing dishes. Upstairs, her computer calls with the promise of a romance world she can fall into. Alice knows she could just go up and disappear that way. It’s why she’s a writer: fiction has always been her only escape.
Something makes her stop, however, and pull back. She moves toward the kitchen and pauses in the doorway, feeling weird. The faucet is off now, and he’s starting up the dishwasher. He looks to Alice, narrowing his eyes at the woman hanging nervously around the doorframe. “Did you need something?”
She gathers courage and steps fully into the doorway. Leaning into the kitchen counter, she stares Luka down. “I just want to know more about you.”
“That’s not part of the contract, is it?” He looks up from wiping down the counter, a playful smile on his face.
“See,” Alice points out. “You’re doing it again. Y-you know what you’re doing.”
He frowns, light dying from his eyes as he stares down. “My life is of no concern to you.”
“It is,” she says. “You live in my home. I have a right t-to know what sort of person I-I’m paying. That’s not unreasonable.”
After a moment, she makes eye contact with him again. “Either let me get to know you and admit to your own b-behavior o-or stop it entirely. I don’t appreciate being trifled with.”
Irritation splits across the man’s face for a moment. It’s sudden and sort of shocking to see, but it fades in an instant. Alice almost takes a step back but holds her ground instead. She watches as Luka runs a hand through her hair and sighs.
“My apologies, Ms. Lenore.” He opens his mouth as if he’s going to open up, but Alice is soon met with disappointment. “My behavior was inappropriate, and I will cease and desist.”
Fuck. She was hoping he’d tell her about himself. Nodding, Alice smiles gently. “Alright, thank you very much.”
Luka soon returns to his room, and Alice is left standing in the kitchen, wondering what to do. God, I’m so frustrated. Obviously, she should just let it go. She’s anxious. For once, though, it’s not just anxiety she feels. It’s been so long since she felt this exhilarated while talking to a man.
Alice returns to her study, but she just can’t stop thinking about the look on his face when he flirts or the warmth of his skin. Clearly, logically, it’s just a stupid crush. She knows this much. Still . . .
Sitting down at her desk, Alice cracks her knuckles and gets to work. That night, she lies in bed with insomnia, wondering what kind of person Luka Oxendine is.
The next day, he avoids her like the plague. Every time she goes into a room she thought he was cleaning, he’s already moved somewhere else. It’s a relief, in some ways. Alice knows he was flirting with her, and that it made her uncomfortable and irritated her, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s drawn to him.
The mystery of what he’s like plagues her. She focuses on her writing, throwing herself into it and pounding out word count like no tomorrow. When she gets a small sample back from her editor, the feedback is better than usual. She wouldn’t be surprised if the sexual tension from this in-person situation was impacting her writing in a positive way.
It certainly doesn’t impact her life in a positive way, though. She tries to call Clara to get advice, but Clara’s busy. It’s got to be the new boyfriend. Alice is a good friend and tries not to be jealous, but she is anyway.
It’s a couple days before she runs into him in close quarters again. Coming home from the store, she runs into him in her bedroom. Stopping in her tracks, she watches from the doorway as he makes her bed.
Luka doesn't notice her at first. When he does, he stops and looks up. His eyes widen a little. "Sorry, Ms. Lenore. I'll get out of your way."
"No, don't." She holds her arm out in front of the door before stepping forward and closing it.
He gets a tired, distant expression on his face. He looks for a moment like he's going to start to speak but opts not to. Luka continues tidying her bed before making sure he has all the laundry collected.
Alice doesn't know what to say. She didn't really plan this far. She's not even sure why she's doing this—normally, speaking to other people or men at all is so stress-inducing that she runs away from it at every opportunity. Luka, though: he's quiet and introverted, like her. Most of the time, talking to him feels comfortable and fine, even if their conversations are usually tense attempts at Alice trying to get him to open up.
"If you won't open up at all, I m-might have to stop employing you," Alice says after a moment honestly. "There are some bad episodes of crime in Nova Scotia recently, along w-with the murder on Prince Edward Island. You have t-to understand where I'm coming from." She speaks slowly, trying to keep herself steady. She's proud of herself when she's able to talk without stuttering all over the whole time.
Luka looks up, recognition on his face. He seems slightly incredulous. "Ma'am, I understand your caution, but I'm not a murderer."
"I wasn't t-trying to suggest that." There's the anxiety. Her tone quiets and she's not sure how to speak up at all. "I just want us t-to be comfortable with each other if you're going to work here."
Luka caves a little. Sighing, he finishes folding some of the clean laundry he had brought out and was swapping for the old. After that, he stands up and looks at her. "Fine." He sighs. "I'm from Yukon, but I've been in Toronto for the past few years getting my degree in architecture. I graduated last year and have been doing odd jobs since then."
"A-architecture?" Alice's eyes light up. "Do you think you'll get a job in th-that field?"
"Maybe." A small smile plays across his face. "Maybe not. I don't like to be tied down, so jobs that don't require me to stay in one specific place are really nice."
Alice pauses before nodding. "OK." She smiles. "I've got a bachelor's degree in biology, but I never t-t-took it very far. I-I write romance books."
Something bright flashes across Luka's eyes, and he smiles a little sheepishly. "I know. Your face is on the back cover of a number of popular titles."
"Do you read th-that genre? Surprising." Alice gives him an amused look. "I wouldn't h-have placed that." She finds her nerves melting away, somehow. Talking to Luka is refreshing and easy in a way she's not used to. At least, it's refreshing and easy like this.
"Maybe a little," he admits, a smirk on his face. "But only occasionally. It's good for reading on long road trips."
"I'm n-not quite s-sure," Alice admits, smiling, "whether or not that's a compliment."
He shrugs, returning to work. Alice tries to think of more questions. "Why did you c-come to Port Murmure?"
Luka pauses longer than usual, thinking about his answer. "I heard it was nice. I wanted some peace and quiet."
Deep in her heart, Alice can tell that's a lie. She's not sure what kind of lie or what level of one, but it's obvious. Luka is distant and quiet and mostly closed off, but he doesn't seem to be aware that his body language when lying makes the lie obvious. That same frustration she's been feeling for days buries itself in her stomach and won't leave. Her stomach lurches a little. She's not sure what to do.
Luka looks to her for an answer. Suddenly, Alice finds herself experiencing some form of fear. If he's lying, why is he here? Trying to appear normal, she nods in her usual anxious way. He turns back to his work, and Alice tries to work this over in his head.
He said he's not a criminal, but he's lying to her about why he's here. It's true that Alice is pretty wealthy because of her writing. Could he be here to try to steal her money? If he is, it won't work. She keeps it all in a savings account. Alice doesn't use much of her money—she plans to use it to retire, eventually. That, and help pad her parents’ comfortable retirement, though she’s not sure they’ll need it. They don't talk to her much. Alice hasn't had good contact with her family in years. It's depressing, and sometimes she's not sure how to process it, but they're all very professional people and have always been disappointed that she didn't go into the sciences like them. She can't help it: it just isn't her area of passion.
Realizing her brain had wandered off, Alice looks up. She's not sure how long she's been zoned out, but Luka doesn't seem to have noticed. "Th-there's a nice beach next door to me," she says. "It's on National Park lands, and the p-parking is closed h-half of the days of the week, but since I live here I can just hop th-the fence and walk to it."
She's just making small talk to continue the appearance of normalcy, but Luka looks up anyway and smiles. "Really? You didn't seem that type of person to me."
"Without a l-little b-b-bit of rule breaking, life is p-pretty boring." Alice laughs. It doesn't come out sounding as forced as she thought it would, which is a huge relief. She wants to wipe her forehead in relief.
When Luka leaves to go clean her study, she stays in her room and tells him she's going down for a nap. In reality, she just lies down and stares at the bed canopy. Stress feels like a knot in her body. Why is Luka here?
It could just be that he didn't want her to fire him so he made up whatever he wanted to, but what past and motives does he have that he would desperately need or want to hide his motives for being in this town? Port Murmure is tiny—no one really comes here on a whim. If he wanted solitude, there are other, more interesting towns for that.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, she'll ask around town for information about him. If she doesn't find any, she'll look it up. If she can't find that, she'll demand it. Logic tells Alice that she should just fire him, but curiosity eggs her on more, pushing her to find the answers that she so desperately wants.
Alice rests her hand on the counter to steady herself. "But you're sure you haven't heard of him?"
The barista frowns and shakes his head. "No. Maybe he just hasn't ever come into the shop, but I find it unlikely that a man like the one you describe wouldn't be noticeable if you saw him on the street. Perhaps he's new in town."
She bites the inside of her lip and nods. Even talking to this man is giving her anxious shivers, but she can't think of any other solutions or people to ask.
"I thought as much. I-I-It just throws me off h-having someone in my house who no one really knows anything about." She pauses, breathing out heavily and taking a sip of the coffee she paid for. "He won't e-even answer any questions I ask him about what he's like outside of work."
"That seems odd," the barista, a man named Paul, agrees. He's an older gentleman with a concerned look on his face—one Alice isn't a stranger to. People in town always look at her like that. She knows she's the town homebody. "Not to scare you, but could he be some sort of criminal in hiding?"
"I-I'd considered that," she says shakily. "I just don't really want to think about it. He's so polite and quiet it doesn't seem to fit him, but . . . "
Her brain flashes back to that one scary look that flashed in his eyes when they were talking a few days prior. She pales a little and trails off before smiling awkwardly at the barista. "I'm s-sure it's fine."
Paul doesn't look convinced. "I don't know about that. What about that murder in Charlottetown? That's not all that far from here if they took a boat, is it?"
Laughing nervously, Alice tucks hair behind her ear. "D-don't scare me like that."
"My apologies," he quickly corrects, holding up his hands. "I'm sure that's not the case, especially since your description of him doesn't seem to match the specs for the Charlottetown murderer."
Alice wonders for a moment why the police are making such a dramatic deal over this murder, to the point of travelling to a different Canadian province. She's glad they're chasing the killer, but . . . well, maybe Nova Scotia and Prince Edward Island just doesn't have this sort of occurrence much. She isn’t used to cops being around.
Throwing a five dollar bill in the tip jar, she waves and moves back toward the door. Once outside, the fresh air feels like a much-needed friend. She breathes in slowly. Paul had advised her to go ask other shops in the area, but she's already been to them and no one really recognized him. After this much social interaction, she's anxious.
She takes a big swig of her coffee and scratches the back of her neck, staring at the sky. Paul speaks up. “You be careful, Alice, alright?”
She turns and gives him a quizzical look. “Wh-what?”
“I know how hard it hit you when Craig left. He’s a jerk and you deserve better than a man who leaves you on the slightest whim, but don’t go falling for some mystery man.” His eyebrows soften.
Alice feels herself flush. “I-I’m not falling for him. I’m just curious.”
An ugly ache burrows itself in her stomach at the mention of Craig. After a moment, she just gives up and goes back to her car. Clicking the key in the ignition, she starts the ten-minute drive from town to her house.
No one seems to have heard anything about him. No one even seems to have seen him aside from the times he's gone into town for groceries or supplies during the last few weeks. He probably just moved here from another town, but it's frustrating anyway.
She drives home. When she gets there, the door is unlocked, which is unusual given that Luka is home. Once she walks in, though, there's no sight of him. "Luka?" She calls out hesitantly. Nothing.
Biting her lip, she wanders around. There's no sign of him. Everything is impeccably clean, as usual. He's not in his room, either.
Returning to the main room and the front door, however, reveals some insight. His boots are gone, a faint ring of dirt around where they'd usually be. Alice furrows her brow and plays with some of her hair. "Huh," she murmurs out loud. Maybe he's outside? Alice doesn't have much of a garden though, just some plants on the porch.
Grabbing her coat and pulling it on again, she walks across the inside of the house to the porch door and creaks it open. This door is unlocked, which is also unusual. When she goes outside, the area around the plants is damp, and the hose is slowly leaking water. He watered the plants recently, but he's not here now.
Alice furrows her eyebrows and bites her lip. Walking to the edge, she scans the forest area below, just before the beach. That's when she sees him. He's walking a deeper into the forest, toward the area of the neighborhood with no housing. She knows she could call out, but curiosity pushes her to keep her mouth shut. Carefully, she closes the deck door and hops over the railing of the deck to the side of the house. Trying to be as quiet as she can, she slides down the hill to the woods and follows him.
They walk for probably a half a mile into the woods. At some point, he stops and Alice ducks behind a tree. Footsteps from the other side of Luka point out that someone else is here. She's at a safe enough distance that she feels she won't be seen, so Alice peeks out from between branches of a short tree.
There's a woman there. She's got straight, black hair that's pulled into a ponytail behind her head. Her skin is a soft, tan brown, and she's wearing a button-up flannel shirt. Alice holds her breath as they start talking.
"Have you talked to him yet?" Luka crosses his arms, his tone serious.
"No," the woman starts. "I'm keeping a distance for now. I'm trying to deal with the investigator before we drag him back, but I don't know if it'll work. If it comes down to it, I’ll just erase his memory. I just don't want him to shift and draw even more attention to us."
Luka pauses, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He looks skeptical. After a second, he nods and sighs. "Alright. Just hurry up. Don’t let yourself fall in too deep."
"Mind your own business. I don’t just fall for every guy I see. You know how I feel about human men. I'm trying, Luka," she says, irritated. Alice wants to shrink back just while looking at her. The woman's got an energy that makes Alice nervous, the sort of person who exudes confidence. "But it's not my fault you're pent up."
"I know it's not," Luka snaps quietly. "I'm just stressed."
"Obviously." The woman acts like it's obvious. "It'll be like that until you shift. What are you afraid of? It's not like you have any problems controlling yourself."
Shift? Alice shivers. He's a shifter? She thinks back to what Paul said. Could he be the murderer from Charlottetown?
Alice holds herself back, trying not to jump to conclusions. Shifters aren't all like that. She knows that. Alice has a half-sibling back in Vancouver who's a housecat shifter, and she's seen how shifters are treated. Just because her maid is one doesn't mean that she's a murderer.
"Why don't you go for a run with me?" The woman suggests. "It'd make you feel less pent up."
Luka sighs again, looking exhausted. "I suppose so. I have to be back quickly, though, alright? As long as we're here, this is my job."
She waves him off. "Fine, fine. I get it."
It all happens so fast. Alice is watching them stand there calmly when out of nowhere Luka steps back and breathes into his hands, bending over. It's almost instantaneous. She watches white hair erupt from his skin and his whole body structure change. Gaping, she clenches her hands around the tree bark. It's only a moment before the other woman shifts as well.
Polar bears. The two of them turn toward her, starting to move in her direction. Alice stumbles back, panicked and out of breath. She holds her hands out in front of her. When she trips backwards over a log, she doesn't even know what's happening. Panic overrides logic, and she screams, heart stopping in place.
One of the bears looks directly at her. She watched it happen, but shock had left her stopped in her tracks. Seeing that his eyes are that same gold she remembers from human form seems to solidify what’s just happened in her consciousness.
She faints.