Page 16 of Axel
The compliment had her beaming in pleasure.
“Come back any time.”
“Oh, I will. The kitchen and I have a hate-hate relationship, so I tend to stay away.” With a wave of one hand, she made her way out, feeling the stares of the customers in the small of her back.
Making her way towards the park, she made note of the quaint stores, the wrought iron chairs and tables outside a restaurantthat had yet to open its doors, the Irish bar with the four-leaf clovers blinking on the sign.
It was all so tidy and neat and so damned quiet. So quiet that it was unnerving. The air was cool enough for her not to turn on her AC.
She had been going for ten minutes, with just a few cars passing her, driving at a pace she was not accustomed to. The speed limit sign warned her to stick to twenty-five miles an hour, which to her was unheard of. Slowing down, she found herself wondering if she pressed towards twenty-seven, she was going to hear sirens behind her.
Deciding not to take the chance, she eased her foot off the accelerator until she turned into the deserted park. Major work was going on here and the remnants of work tools, work vehicles could be seen.
Everything had been heaped to one side, she supposed it was to accommodate the people who wanted to make use of the park. Alighting from the vehicle, Ellie was glad she had opted for casual clothing.
The faded denims, thin blue sweater and tennis shoes were comfortable enough to make the trek. The towering trees were swaying in the breeze that had sprung up and sent her back to the vehicle to retrieve her denim jacket.
It was already a lovely space, with the usual rides and swings to accommodate adults as well as kids. The trails were of particular attraction to her, and she set off, curious to find where one leads to.
“Hi.”
She was so absorbed in staring at the trickle of water on her left, she failed to notice the young man jogging up to her.
“Hi.”
“I scared you. I am sorry. I thought you heard me coming.”
“No.” She shook her head and felt the uneasiness pricking her. This was a small town, and it was supposed to be safe, but serial killers were known to move into areas where there were easy preys, and she was as easy as they come.
“My name is Tom McCleary.” He stretched out a hand and she took it hesitantly.
“You have an accent.” She retrieved her hand almost instantly.
“You have a very good ear.” His blue eyes twinkled. “I own the Irish pub up the street.”
Relief swept through her. “The one I just passed.”
“And you are Ellie Logan, the journalist here to do a write up on our most famous resident.”
“I suppose you could call me a journalist. Have you lived here long?”
He shook his thick reddish blonde head. He was tall and thin, with an interesting poet’s face and lopsided smile. “I was living in Chicago working at an investment company when I was robbed and almost beaten to death one night while going home from work.
spent three months in the hospital and afterwards, had an epiphany. No more big cities for me. I wandered around for a while until I came here to just cool out. Like the place and decided to set up shop so to speak and never left.”
“Sounds like an interesting story.”
He grinned at that. “Not as interesting as the one you are about to write. Axel Lakeside is a phenomenon.”
“Have you met him?”
“Several times. He is not above coming into the pub for a pint. He is not standoffish but does not talk much. He likes to be left alone.” He eyed her for a minute, his gaze frankly admiring.
What are your plans for this evening?”
“I have no idea. I have some interviews to do and then…, who knows?”
“Why don’t you come and have a pint or two? I promise to keep you entertained with stories of my life.”