“I’m just saying, what kind of bloke throws stones at someone’s window? Hasn’t he got a mobile phone or something?” Brian gazed at Lexie, looking for answers.
They sat opposite one another in the otherwise empty coffee shop. Brian had gone into town to unwind—he’d felt especially stressed upon waking and not just because he’d forgotten to buy more eggs and coffee. It had been the man who’d done it, that and the fact he hadn’t seen Yuki all morning. He should’ve texted her, but didn’t want to seem clingy, so instead had gone for a stroll. The cool air against his neck and the scent of damp grass had helped. Though not enough, evidently. As soon as he’d entered the coffee shop, Lexie had asked if everything was all right with a look that told Brian it was more than politeness. The worry must have been etched across his face. Brian told Lexie about the man and his concerns whilst she nodded along.
“Am I being silly? Overthinking it?” Brian scratched his head. “Yuki lives there all by herself, seems like keeping an eye out for her is the decent thing to do. And there was something about the bloke … something not quite right, though I couldn’t place it. Well, anyway, I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
“There are no customers here,” Lexie said. “And I’m happy to listen. It’s nice to find someone who wants to talk.”
Brian blushed, then chastised himself for doing so in front of someone who was not Her.
“Besides, what else am I gonna do? There are only so many true crime podcasts I can listen to. I’ve already blasted through most of True Crime Garage and My Favorite Murder and I’m halfway through The Campbell Files.” Lexie smiled. “So, keep talking.”
“Guess I’m being overly dramatic. Thinking about the worst-case scenario when there’s likely a perfectly innocent explanation.”
Lexie put her hand on top of Brian’s. She had the softest touch but to Brian it felt as if there was something more to it, something alive, not exactly electrical but a kind of charge, unfamiliar and energising. “You’re not overthinking anything. I think it’s sweet that you care so much.”
Sweet … A compliment or condescension? Brian looked into Lexie’s eyes, there was no malice or sarcasm. “We need more people like you here,” she said. “You’re one of the good guys—someone who’s not afraid to go out of his way to help others.”
Brian wasn’t so sure about that and yet Helen said similar—would often tell Brian he put others before himself, but unlike Lexie she seemed to think it was a weakness not a strength.
“What do I do, Lexie?” He hadn’t meant to call her by her name, it had just spilt out, and yet he sensed her warm to it. To him.
“We look after each other.”
For a moment Brian thought she was talking about the two of them then soon came to his senses.
“This is a good town, full of good people,” Lexie said. “But that doesn’t mean that bad shit doesn’t happen, you know what I’m saying?”
Brian nodded, though wondered if he was missing some wider point. The way Lexie had put it she’d described most places he’d lived. “Is there much crime here?”
Lexie removed her hand from atop his, he instantly felt as if something were missing.
They remained in silence. Brian soon filled the gap. “It could explain the strange man in the car park, is all. Burglary, car theft, things like that …”
Lexie grinned, then put her hand to her mouth, stifling laugher. “That wasn’t the kind of thing I was talking about.”
“But it does ha—”
“Of course, it happens!” Tears of laughter streamed down Lexie’s face and this time Brian felt the joke really was on him. Lexie wiped her face with the back of her hand and exhaled. “Brian, you’re so …” But instead of words she beamed.
Lexie might have been in good spirits, but Brian swore this was the last time he filled an awkward silence. If he’d turned pink at her words earlier, now he was positively vermillion.
Lexie stalled, assessing Brian—her expression turned serious—before deciding it was okay to continue. “Something happened, a few years back …”
“Go on.”
“I don’t know if I should, I mean—fuck—this is dark dark stuff and we’ve only just met.” Lexie ruffled her hair. “And yet I trust you, I really do. Is that naïve of me?”
Brian didn’t know how to answer that and luckily he didn’t have to as she soon continued. “It’s an unsolved case—there’s a person of interest we never tracked down.”
“We?”
“Sorry, bad habit, it’s just, the whole town takes what happened very personally.”
“What did—”
“This man you saw—the prick throwing stones—was there anything distinctive about him?”
“It was pretty dark and the bloke seemed fairly nondescript. Long hair and beard, black or dark brown, but it was dark so even that might not be accurate.”
“What about his build?”
“He was wearing some kind of jumper or cardigan … I mean, he wasn’t fat, but he wasn’t particularly gaunt either, so I guess average, but then again in the dark and without short sleeves you can’t really tell, can you? Might have been he worked out.” Brian sighed. “Sorry for being so useless.”
A woman with shoulder length hair, a denim jacket, and vinyl leggings practically painted on entered the café with a short squat man in a beige t-shirt and corduroy trousers. The woman waited at the counter whilst the man settled at a window seat.
Lexie smiled at her, then leant across the table towards Brian, voice low. “Did this bloke have any tattoos, scars, piercings, anything like that?”
“Not that I remember. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t.” I should have taken a photo, why didn’t I? Christ … “This case, what exactly—”
“I really should get back to work,” Lexie said, standing up and looking over at the woman. “But this conversation isn’t over. I’ll tell you more soon.”
Brian stood and Lexie took his hand once more, as if to shake it—only instead of shaking it she simply held it, and Brian felt another surge of energy fill him up. By the time the rush had normalised Lexie was back behind the counter and serving the lady.
Brian headed towards the door, glancing over at the lady, but there was something about the way she silently regarded him that left Brian uneasy.
“I’ll see you later, Brian,” Lexie said.
He rushed out of the coffee shop, more confused than ever.