The Blood of Amietta

IV. The Sheriff of Moonwake

Mornings have never been my strong suit. I don't know what it is– all I know is that they do not agree with me. And while I am very glad to have met someone willing to give me a place to crash for a night, I can't say that I still feel quite so thrilled when I wake up the next morning.

Apparently, Arabelle is a morning person– a rather loud morning person.

Begrudgingly, I rifle through the dresser, pulling on a pair of sweats and stumble my way into the kitchen. Arabelle stands over the sizzling stove, a greasy spatula in her hand as she sings off-key to an upbeat song I don't recognize.

"Coffee?" she asks.

"Yes, please," I grumble.

She places a steaming mug in front of me. I wrap my hands around it, letting the steam warm my face as I take a sip.

"Feel like yourself yet?" she asks after I've had a chance to down half the mug.

"Yeah," I nod. "Thanks."

Arabelle grabs two plates off of the counter and makes her way to the table, placing one plate of food in front of me. It's piled with scrambled eggs, toast, and breakfast sausage. I grab a fork, digging in despite my aversion to eating in the morning– I don't want to be rude when she's been kind enough to open up her home to me. I mean, the woman cooked for me and everything.

"I've got the day off today," Arabelle says halfway through our meal. "So if you want me to show you around or anything, just let me know."

I run a hand through my bed head and wince when my nail snags on a tangle. "Yeah, I should probably start looking for my own place, huh? And a job. Any suggestions on where to look?"

Arabelle pauses to think. "Well, there are a few empty houses on the edge of town," she admits. "But you are welcome to stay with me for as long as you want. You can even work for me at the bar. I know this town takes some getting used to. People tend to do worse if they isolate themselves."

"Oh, that's definitely asking too much, Arabelle."

She shrugs nonchalantly and smiles at me from behind her fork. "Not at all," she assures me. "I offered. Besides, I let newcomers stay with me all the time. Like I said, it helps if you have someone to talk to."

"Okay," I accept. "I guess I'll take the job and the place to stay."

Arabelle smiles again. "Great!"

Well that was easy. Who am I to turn down a place to stay when she seems so willing?

"Speaking of getting to know the town, do you know where I could go to learn more about its history?" I ask.

Arabelle studies me for a long moment. I can tell that she's curious about my strange inquiry, probably wondering what I need to know that I didn't already ask about last night. I'm not quite so sure myself, but that's not going to stop me from trying my hand at figuring out the mayor's secrets.

I'm completely convinced that Arabelle is not going to help me until, finally, she sighs and sets her fork down on the table.

"I'd try the sheriff's office," she says skeptically. "That's where they keep the town records, but I'm not sure if they'll let you look at them."

I look of understanding passes between us. One that clearly states she knows that I'm up to something but she's going to pretend that she doesn't.

I smile gratefully. "Thanks, Arabelle."

_____

An hour later I'm out the door and heading towards the town square. Arabelle kindly gives me directions to the sheriff's office. Not like I'm all that worried about getting lost– the town is tiny. Unsurprisingly, the building is easy to find, sandwiched between a pizza shop and a bakery.