Lily stood at the counter of the rental car company where she worked at the Victoria airport, her lower lip starting to tremble.
“Where. Is. Landsend?” A large brute of a man stood on the other side of the partition, getting more and more angry with each passing second.
The map that Lily had placed on the counter between them was not shedding much light on the situation because the small town of Landsend could not be found on it anywhere.
“Are you sure the town is called Landsend?” she asked timidly.
“Oh, for crying out loud.” The man reached into the breast pocket of his shiny grey suit and pulled out a piece of paper, holding it out for Lily to see.
Meg Spencer
Hibiscus Hotel
Landsend, B.C.
“See,” the man said.
But Lily was finding it hard to concentrate on the piece of paper. She was too busy looking at the letters KILL tattooed on each of the man’s beefy fingers.
“Can I be of help?” A woman with shoulder length, curly red hair, stepped up next to Lily, focussing her steely gaze on the customer in front of her.
“Oh, Ms. Harris,” Lily said, with obvious relief in her voice, at the sight of the older woman joining her. “This man wants to go to Landsend but I’ve never heard of it, have you?”
“Yes, I have. Lily can you go and help another customer on the phone, please. I’ll help … Mr. Smith, is it?” The red haired woman looked at the paperwork on the counter while Lily took off, back to her desk.
“Yeah, that’s me. Mr. Smith. Can you help me or not?” The man placed both hands on the counter, drumming his KILL tattooed fingers with agitation. Lily cringed away from that sound at her desk, way over in the corner.
Rose Harris, on the other hand, tossed her red curls over her shoulder and stared icily up at the behemoth looming over her, a scar running from the corner of his right eye all the way down to his mouth.
Pointing at the map of Vancouver Island laid out on the counter in front of her, Ms. Harris indicated Victoria way down at the south end of the island and said, “We’re here.”
The mobster leaned a little closer, trying to appear nonchalant but clearly wanting to make sure he got the instructions right. So when Rose dragged her index finger all the way up to the northern tip of the island, he followed it every inch of the way.
“Landsend is close to Port Hardy, up here at the top of the island,” Rose said. “So just head north towards Nanaimo then just a little further past it, to Port Hardy. Won’t take you any time at all.”
“Really? It looks like a long way.”
“No, it’s just the scale of the map. Makes it look bigger than it is.”
“Can I take this,” the mobster asked, jabbing his meaty finger at the map.
“Of course.”
Rose watched the mobster walk away as he tried to fold the map up again but then giving up, he just crushed it in one meaty hand. She waited until he went out the sliding doors to the parking lot before she pulled out her cell phone. Looking up a number, she punched a button and waited.
When someone answered, she said, “Hi Flo, it’s Rose. Let me talk to Grant Peterson. There’s something he needs to know.”