that are best not vibrated.
― Charles Dickens
I decided to come out of retirement to help my uncle Cyril crack a cold case.
Cyril is superintendent of the local RCMP detachment and knew I was familiar with the case—it was more than that though—I was obsessed with catching my partner’s killer and my obsession was killing me.
I took a leave and realized how distorted my life had become and decided for the sake of my mental health, I had better permanently retire.
So much for that resolution…
It took me ten minutes of sitting at my new desk to realize what I had gotten into. I committed to working on the case at my old salary but brought nothing with me by way of provisions and didn't even have a place to stay.
Was I intending to sleep on the couch in the back room of the detachment?
I came to the conclusion I'd have to drive back to the city and stuff what clothes I could find into a suitcase and pack a separate valise with personal care items, enough to last a month. Hopefully, that'd be all it'd take to put this perp away for good, but maybe I was dreaming in technicolour.
I didn't even have a blurry photo of his face. This could drag on forever.
"How do you do it?" a female voice asked. I glanced up to see Clare's lovely face bemused by my intense concentration.
"Simple," I said. "I just put everything else out of my head."
"No, not that—I mean make a decision on the spur of the moment to work in a town two hours away from your home?"
I found myself colouring again, and not with crayons. This blushing was getting to be annoying.
"Uh yeah, I tend to jump right in when I see a need and take stock afterward."
She leaned back against her desk and shook her head sadly. "Where are you planning to stay?"
"I don't know. Is there a Holiday Inn?"
"I can fix you up with a place to stay. My friend, Lea, owns a commercial property downtown—it’s a beauty salon with a loft apartment upstairs. There's parking in the back and it's furnished. It's quite nice actually and it's vacant."
"That would be great—thank you."
"I'll give her a call and set things up. Maybe you should drive back to the city today and bring enough gear to last you a couple of months. Just call my cell when you get back and I'll meet you and give you the key."
"I owe you for this one," I smiled.
"You can buy me dinner at Yin's in town—I like Chinese. Oh, and coffees for a week—that should just about do it."
And with a mischievous smile and a wave she was out the door.
I like this girl, I grinned and grabbed my keys and headed out to my SUV.
As I drove to the highway, I caught a glimpse of the town and it was salt stinging my wound. I had put the sights and sounds out of my thoughts but now it all came rushing back and overwhelmed me.
This is why I left, I winced and grasped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. I had to pull over and stop by the side of the road. I felt I was going to puke but ended up heaving and crying instead.
Sorry Sarah, I mutter and stare at the road, avoiding looking at familiar sights. She deserved someone stronger, but she got me. Unlucky her.
I see her sunny face smiling at me and then a rose blossoming on her forehead and her falling as the report reaches my ears.
I retch and push open the driver's door and puke on the roadway. Yeah, I don't know if I can do this...so weak.
Whatever was I thinking when I agreed to this?
I hate myself.
It crosses my mind to phone Cyril and call the whole thing off and I would except for one thing. Sarah won’t let me.
It’s not memories that haunt me. It’s her. She won’t let me.
I shut the car door, and shut my eyes and take deep breaths. I can’t go on… I will go on.
I let her down once, I won’t do it again.
I drive back to the city.