I mounted the guest house steps, trying to ignore the theme from ‘The Addams Family’ playing quietly in my head.

That was…unexpected. But not unwelcome.

The pretty bartender’s kiss had been with me all the way home; too bad I never got her name. The short walk had been enough time for twilight to set in, and by the time I got my key out for the front door, I had to squint for the lock to fit it in.

As I entered the hallway, Daisy was descending the stairs, and I blinked. The elderly lady made her way down the wide staircase at a considerable rate, holding on to the wide banister, and jumping down them two at a time. It was an alarming sight, and I found myself wondering how far away the nearest ambulance was in the event of her losing her footing and breaking something.

“Ah! Mr. Sanders! Welcome back.” Daisy waved at me cheerfully as she clattered to a halt at the bottom, making me wince. “The Paihamu Suite is ready for you. Just up the stairs, and it’s the first door on the left.”

“Thank you, Miss McNeish. It, uh, it sounds very grand.” I looked around for my cases, but she’d already taken them up. “To be honest, I would have been happy with just a standard room, but—”

“Oh, this is a standard room, dear.” Daisy was undaunted. “It’s all part of the service here.”

I looked about. “This looks like a big place for you to manage all on your own. How many rooms do you have?”

“Just one, dear.”

“The, uh…Paihamu Suite?”

Daisy nodded cheerfully. “That’s right.” She bustled past me through another door. “You take yourself up to your room, dear, and I’ll be up in a moment with a late snack.”

“Thanks, that’s really kind, but there’s no need to—” From the clanking of pots I could hear, I guessed the door led to the kitchen, and Daisy wasn’t about to hear me, or take no for an answer if she could.

She’s nice. Weird, but nice.

Smiling ruefully, I climbed the wide stairs at about half the speed of the old lady, went to my bedroom door, and peered inside. The room was pitch-black, and it took some fumbling before I could find the light switch, an old-style chain dangling from the ceiling.

I pulled the chain; the bulb blazed into life and illuminated a scene from nightmare.

“Fuck!”

* * *

All about the bedroom, on plinths, on shelves, and on every flat surface, stood stuffed animals. Not a range of animals; just one type of animal, the common opossum.

I wasn’t an animal biologist, but I knew the pointed snout, bushy tail and sharp claws of the opossum well enough. I stood in the middle of the room, mouth open, taking in the display in front of me.

There must have been eight or ten of the things, staring back at me glassily. The place looked like the lair of either a very methodical taxidermy student, who was determined to get one thing right before moving on to anything else, or someone with a major grudge against opossums.

What was worse, they weren’t displayed au naturelle, in their normal opossum-y environment. No, they were dressed up in little outfits. Some were wearing tuxedos, and clutching microphones; one, like a furry Elvis, had a sequined jumpsuit. I sat hunched on the bed, unable to tear my eyes away from them. They regarded me impassively, little jaws agape, stuck in an eternal performance.

How in hell am I going to get to sleep in here? I wasn’t a light sleeper, and I’d had to sleep in some pretty rugged conditions, but this was going to be a challenge.

As I looked around, still dumbfounded, there was a quiet knock at the door.

“Mr. Sanders? May I come in?”

“Of—of course, Miss McNeish.” To be honest, I could do with another human in here, ‘cause I’m heavily outnumbered.

The heavy door creaked open, and Daisy backed in, carrying a large metal tray. “A light supper.” She proffered the tray. “I thought you might be in need of something after your journey.”

I looked down. “Ah. Toasted cheese. How nice.” Above us, an opossum Elton John leered down from behind a tiny piano, spangled eyeglasses gleaming in the light.

“I trust the room is to your satisfaction?” Daisy looked around, her gaze somehow not taking in any of the existing inhabitants. “Plenty of space, and there’s a desk in the corner, you see.”

I blinked. There was a desk in the corner, a lovely old folding writing-desk. I just hadn’t noticed it, and the best thing was that it was blessedly free of stuffed opossum. “That’s, uh, great, Miss McNeish. Very useful. Yes.”

Daisy beamed. “Being as you’re a man of letters, I thought you’d have use of a desk for your work.”

“Well, that’s true. It will come in handy.” Especially if I stare at the wall and try not to look at anything else. “I’ll make sure to use it.” I took the tray gently from Daisy’s hands, and placed it on the bedside table.

“Mr. Sanders, if you don’t mind me asking, what is it you’re here to study?” Daisy’s wizened face was bright and inquisitive, and I found myself warming to her keen interest in everything around her.

“Well, Miss McNeish,” I began, “I’m an archaeologist. We’ve had a report of some bones discovered in one of the buildings in town, and I’m here to investigate them. If they’re of archaeological significance, it could be a pretty big find.”

Daisy clapped her hands. “Oh, how interesting! This town does have a long history of settlement, going well back before European times.” She gestured around the room. “Did you know this house was one of the first built when European settlers came here?”

“No, I didn’t, but that, uh, doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“Yes, absolutely. There are a lot of other old buildings in town, and a number of them have protected heritage status.” She nodded to herself. “Of course, it’s very important to preserve our past, but it does make it difficult for the owners. You couldn’t so much as change a window-latch in those protected heritage buildings without permission, to say nothing of knocking out a wall, or putting in another room.”

“Well, you’re right about preserving the past, Miss McNeish. In my work, I have to be very careful with everything we dig up. You never know what’s going to be important, and once we forget things, or lose them, then they’re gone forever.”

For a moment, Daisy looked suddenly sad. “Yes. Yes, that’s very true.” It was such an unexpected expression on that bright, fierce, birdlike face that I was taken aback. Before I could say anything, it was gone, replaced by cheeriness. “Anyway, I mustn’t keep you; your toasted cheese is getting cold.”

I glanced furtively at it, congealing by my pillow. “Y-yes. Thank you.”

“I’ll come past in the morning at seven-thirty. Tea or coffee?”

“Oh, there’s no need to—uh, coffee, please. Just milk, no sugar.”

After the door closed behind Daisy, and I heard her clattering back down the stairs, I shifted my suitcase and began to settle in for the evening. The bed was comfortable, if a little lumpy in parts, and the pillows were heavy, feather-filled, leaving me feeling like I was sinking slowly into the mattress.

I’d better let Mom know I’m here safely, at least. Sitting up in bed, I propped my laptop up in front of me and tapped out an email to my mother.

Hi Mom,

Made it to Cable Bay alright. Antoinette said to say hello to you and that she’d call soon. Do you remember that she used to come here on her holidays when we were kids, and I would always get jealous? I said I would go and check on her Grandad’s house when I’ve finished work; he is in a home now too. What’s the latest with Dad’s care? If you need more funds, just let me know. When I am back, we’ll go and visit together; maybe some more pictures from when I was a kid will jog his memory.

Love,

Ryan

Tomorrow, I would check out the rest of the town, start my investigation, and maybe get another kiss from the pretty bartender. Before sleep came, my last thought was of her body against me, and her breath on my neck.