The Havenport Files: Book One

Day 3

44 Coneflower Avenue, the street where flowers grow from underneath the old pavement of roads in the summer and bloom in the spring, beautifully so, to the point some people around here drive very carefully not to run over them—me included; at this season, they go back to hide themselves from the cold, hell, I would too.

When was the last time I stopped in front of my house and looked at it? I mean, really look at it.

Since I started working, forcing my frazzled feet to help me stumble my way up the small stairs that lead to the door without paying any attention to anything has become routine; not this time though, this time I pay attention to the white and blue walls of the house—blue on the up half and white in the lower one—still hanging up even when some of it clearly needs to be repainted; the garage door, with its white design marked in black paint on the sides by Pirate's paw—an idea that Mel had to decorate the 'boring design', as per her words, that ended up adding to the house aesthetic—the same garage that Yui so rapidly get to with their motorcycle; and lastly, the overgrown bushes near the door in serious need of trimming to shape it into something less wild.

Dalia stops the car beside the sidewalk and looks at the house as well; we both spend a bit of time on that before I turn my face to talk with her and find her eyes already moving to mine timely. She rests one hand on the wheel, tilting her body in the seat's direction as she rests on her side.

"You have a beautiful house, Detective; I can see a lot of care and love permeating its walls."

"Thank you; most of the 'love and care' you see was from some wild idea my sister had that she gave up last hour and I had to finish, but I guess that adds to the general 'housey' look of it." I tap my seat to indicate that I'm getting out and place my hand on the door. At the same time, Yui returns from the garage—where I can see they put the bike in front of it nicely—and opens the door to my right so they can get to the back seat. But they stop to wait for something as I step out; meanwhile, Dalia and Colette have an exchange of looks in the rearview mirror. "I'll be back soon; I'll try not to take long to change; about my dog, if you want, I can put him on the front seat and I go on the back."

"Don't mind that; just tell me this: You want some help to get change? Cause I'll tell ya, I'm very good at this technique—Ugh!" Interrupting their words, Colette pulls their flannel shirt and makes them fall back on the seat before her other hand ends on the door's handle and pulls it close.

Now I see why they exchanged gazes.

Dalia, satisfied with Colette's work, turns to me with a kind smile and shakes her head.

"Don't worry, if you find it reasonable, your dog can go on the back seat; I'm sure Yui will like to pet it on the way." As an answer to these words, Yui extends a hand up with their thumb sticking up in confirmation. "So please, change in your own time; we will be here waiting."

To her I nod my head, grab my coat from the seat I was sitting on, and the rest of my stuff that I make sure to carry all in one hug before closing the car door with my elbow and sticking my free hand into the still wet pocket of my jeans to grab my keys; one of the only things that I forgot that was with me before jumping on the waters, how cool.

I stick the key on the keyhole and twist it until I hear the lock turning. Once that happens, I use my shoulder to push the door open as I tiptoe my way inside to avoid accidentally tripping on Pirate as he comes to greet me, something that I'm glad I did, as the moment I use my feet to kick the door close, the golden retriever comes at full speed in my direction from the kitchen area before trying to stop himself, only to fail that and drift until he is flipped on his back near my feet with a happy smile plastered on his face as he breathes loudly.

"Hey buddy, you good?" A lighthearted laugh escapes me; the scene of Pirate struggling to flip back to his paws is a good one; it's just sad that I can't help with all the stuff in my hands. "Come on, you can do it; put more strength on those paws."

My words of encouragement seem to do the deed though, as the tone I use to talk to him gets him all happy and excited—visible by the way he wags his tail—granting him enough energy so he finds out that he can simply roll over to fix the situation. He does it with an enviable pride.

"Okay, Pirate; Mama is going to change upstairs, and then you and I are going on a walk with some new friends, so you better be on your best behavior, or else you'll get no biscuit."

All I say is ignored, but the two trigger words that he chooses to focus on—words that put him in another level of excitement—seeing him wagging his tail so much like he is trying to fly with it, I smile and reach down to pet his fluffy head.

"Stay; I'll be right back." While I give the order, I point for him to go to the sofa he likes so much to sleep on with Mel in the open-plan living room.

The moment I turn my eyes to the stairs and lean my body to walk in its direction, Pirate springs off the floor and sprites up the stairs before I can do anything about it; more and more I see that leaving Melissa to educate him was not a good idea after all. Shaking my head tiredly, I ignore that and follow right behind Pirate as we both make our way to my room.

Once in front of the door, he sits on his hindfoot and waits patiently for me to put my hand on the handle, and once I give it a little tug, he loses no time in pushing it open with his head and running to my bed; it still manages to impressive how good he can jump. Ultimately, I think the weekly walks are doing him better than I thought.

Once he finds a comfortable spot, warmed by the sun coming from the window, he lays his head on my covers and relaxes, leaving me to do my thing as he waits like a good boy.

I place all my things on the table near my bed so I can forget about them for now and focus to my right, where the wardrobe doors rest beside a standing mirror, the same one I look at myself out of practice, noticing how Yui's words are truthful; next time I jump into the ocean, I'll be using something fitter to the task, preferably a swimsuit.

Undressing from the wet clothes, they cling to my skin possessively all the way until I finally manage to pull them off me; the shirt falls to the wood plank of the floor with a wet splash sound, then the pants join in, followed by my socks, and so a pile of things to care about later forms.

I stay in my underwear as I open the wardrobe, gazing at all clothing options for this walk; all the places I could choose for it, like the park or the train tracks, will have to wait. For this time, the beach is a better option, as I'm sure it will be quiet and empty, just like I prefer. The fact that there's sun in the sky instead of the gray mass we call clouds means that at least the breeze will be nice, and the general temperature will only get better as we grow closer to midday.

Normally, I would just throw on anything that looks good enough while giving me a professional look, but now, for some reason, I feel something inside of me whisper in my ear, telling me that I should try for once to dress up casually as this is a non-work-related occasion; no reason comes to mind to go against this feeling, as it gives me an excuse to wear the clothes I own that have never seen the light of day.

From all of the possible combinations, I can see two that stand out; they look interesting enough while still managing to feel like something I would wear, rather than something someone told me to.

The first one I never used before, a white sundress, wide leg shorts, and a floral sandal pair that I can steal from my sister; or I could go with something I'm more used to, a high waist, black shorts, the white shirt I got with a pirate skull from when I was 'volunteered' by my Sergeant to clean the beach last year, and I could still use the sandals from Melissa in this one as well.

Grabbing the options and putting them against my body as I look at the mirror to check how I stay with them on without actually putting on them, I ponder the options for a good moment or two before finally giving up on trying so hard and, in the end, I choose the one I'm more used to.

With that out of the way, the only thing that remains is my hair; fortunately, that one is easy to deal with.

Five minutes pass like the wind; along that time, I manage to dress myself nicely, get my hair under control, to the point it looks actually decent for once, something that will avoid the sad fate of my curls being used by a bird to make a nest, and to complete the fit, I take the blue flower hair clip that rests in my desk and put it on, which, in the end, adds some confidence to my being.

Kicking the wardrobe door half-close, carefully enough not to use too much strength, I bend down and grab the wet clothes pile, folding it neatly and resting it on the space of my window, so at least until I get back home to put it on the washing machine, it has already had the chance to dry up and not create mold.

Spinning around, I snap my finger and grab Pirate's attention with the sound as I walk to the door and pick up his leash; he raises his head and tilts it curiously.

"You ready, buddy?" I ask, kneeling down to wait for him to come to me, something he does quickly by jumping straight down and almost head-butting me in the process; he then sits politely as I get the collar around his neck and hook the leash, adjusting just enough that he can breathe nicely. "Good boy; a shame you only do what I say when you can get what you want. A thing you have in common with your other Mama."

A happy bark leaves him, almost sounding mockingly, or at least, that's what I like to assume, as picturing him as the reincarnation of a real pirate is a lot cooler; that thought alone gives me an idea.

With a mischievous grin, I pet his head and get to my feet, grasping from my table the skull eyepatch that I bought for him some time ago, and so I place it nicely on his missing eye; now he can live up to his name.

Pirate doesn't even care about the accessory as he finally becomes impatient to leave, standing ready and willing to accompany me downstairs—or race me—by the way he sprints without waiting any longer as soon as he figures out he can open my bedroom door with his paw as I left it half open.

My gun, taser, and the rest of the things I was carrying—all that isn't my wallet and phone—stay atop the table in my room so I can pick them up when I get back.

A couple of stair flights later we stand in front of the door; the last thing I do before going out is that I take some money from my wallet and place it on the savings jar near the coat rack, making sure to let the lid open so my sister knows that she can use it if she needs to order some food after she gets home.

Outside, as I occupy my head with closing the door, the clear sound of the car's door being pushed open grabs both Pirate's and my attention. Looking around in its direction, I catch Yui, with a big grin, staring at the dog with loving eyes; they tap the car's seat and talk softly in encouragement, and once that happens, without a care in the world, he forgets about the leash, and me, apparently, as he starts to run to get inside the car as soon as possible, forcing the leash on my hold to pull me in with him.

"Pirate—" Calling his name does nothing, so, thinking fast, I'm quick to react and let go of the leash so he doesn't strangle himself on the careless attempt; it doesn't even manage to meet the floor as the speeding dog drags it. "There he goes..."

Just as expected, he stumbles on the leash on his way, gets his paw caught by it, then rolls over, acting like nothing happened, and when close enough to the car, easily manages to jump to his meeting with the seat, being caught by Yui's embrace soon after; the content sounds of his breathing mix with Yui's as both start to share one untroubled brain cell.

All I can do as this happens is suspire and shove the keys in my pocket, giving one tug to the door to make sure it is locked; seeing that, in fact, it is, I start making my way to the car.

For some reason, walking without a coat or hoodie on is strange, especially for someone who is used to dressing in many layers, so the lack of something covering my shirt is bothersome, to say the least.

I go around the car and reach the passenger door; opening it, I touch the seat to make sure I can sit down without getting my shorts wet. The good news is that the seat seemed to have absorbed most of the water, so there is no chance that I'll feel uncomfortable immediately as I place myself on it with the surprise.

The door closes as I pull on it; soon, my hands grasp the belt so I can put it on, and as I do it, from the edge of my vision, I catch Dalia's gaze lingering on me complimentarily, traveling from my choice of clothes to the hairpin adorning my hair.

"You can say it; you too think this is a bit too much, right?" A dry laugh escapes me as I lean the back of my head against the headrest.

"In no way is it, as you put it, too much, Detective; it just comes as a nice surprise to see you in more casual clothes, that is all. I believe you would feel the same way to see, for example, Colette out of her more, let's say, unshaped clothes." The woman comments as she twists the key on the ignition, bringing the car back from its slumber. "The flower is a nice touch; it complements you well."

"I'll take your word for it then; thank you," I say with a small smile taking over my lips; as for my hands, they instinctively move to tuck a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. It takes me a moment for me to notice what I'm doing and get a hold of myself.

"Hey, Lia; stop flirting with the detective for a moment and look here; look how cute he..." Yui taps Dalia's shoulder to get her attention; meanwhile, they wait until I nod my head, confirming that Pirate is a he before they continue. "He has a freaking eye patch! We need to get him as part of the unit; we can't miss this rare talent."

Feeling all eyes on him, Pirate barks happily and lolls his tongue out proudly; this causes Yui to hug him again and pet behind his fluffy ears. "What did you name this angel?"

I try answering, but Dalia, touching my shoulder stops me. "I'm sorry, before you two start talking more, where should we go for this walk?"

"Oh, right; so, you take the main road and get us to near the train tracks; from there, just go forward until a beach becomes visible. To avoid people stopping us to ask about the case, I thought the beach was the better option; surely it will be empty today." I watch Dalia shake her head and start driving the car out of the sidewalk's side. "Now to your question, his name is Pirate." Finally, I answer Yui, who seems overjoyed with the revelation.

The sun comes over Dalia's window and falls on me, shining its dappled light from the distant path on the horizon, where it slowly climbs its way up the sky from the trees near the train tracks. It's warm to the touch, so gentle that it serves to tell me that I was right about today being less cold than the week's beginning; the end of winter is so close, only one week away.

I look at the car's display screen, seeing the time exhibited on the far right: five to eleven; that comes as surprising considering I didn't think we had taken so much time on the harbor, but I guess when you're constantly thinking about something, time goes by without waiting for you to catch up.

Well, in any way, that is good news; I can probably grab something to eat after the walk before getting Pirate back home; that alone is another victory, as facing a day's work with an empty stomach is hell.

To get to the beach proves to be a difficult task. My memories failed to remind me why I do walks on Fridays like today without taking the car from the station's parking lot; the main road is flooded with people, driving their cars hurriedly from the big city below us on the map to the one atop, people who want to spend their weekend with their families, away from their jobs for a little while before returning to their normal lives.

Looking at the road, I see the sign standing on the sidewalk, signaling that we are near 'Pirate Bay', the beach where half the year stays untouched by a single soul, and in the other half—the summer half—becomes the most visited place to escape the heat. Interestingly, I'm not the only one whose eyes fall on the sign; those same eyes turn to me seconds later with curiosity shining on the gray irises.

"My knowledge on the matter regarding naming a beach is not advanced; yet, I know that they are normally named after an important figure or an event that marked history; Pirate Bay is a new one to me, I have to admit." She rests her hand on the wheel weakly as she turns to face me completely, using the time we are stuck in traffic, which, by the look of the road, seems to be a minimum of ten minutes until we get to where we want to. "Do you know the story behind it, Detective?"

If this is an attempt to rid the car of the constant sound of Yui playing with Pirate in the backseat, clearly leaving the poor woman stuck with them to deal with it against her own choice, or if this comes from her really wanting to know about the city, nonetheless, I nod my head and look at my hands, which stay placed on my lap.

"Yeah, everyone in this city knows the story behind it; you can say it was something that truly marked our history books. A warning, though: the story is not a happy one, so I'll ask, are you sure you want to know?"

"I would, yes; unless it is something hard for you to talk about, so don't feel pressured to tell me if you don't want to."

I shake my head and look at her with a smile, one that I have to force upon my lips to push the disgust it brings away from my head.

"Well, a long, long time ago, when pirates lived their days of glory on the sea—the golden age of piracy—sailing away from home to steal treasure and live adventures, most of the places worked on laws to stop them, for once tagging them as criminals for the havoc they created in every location they stopped by; but like I said, most cities, not all. Our city—Havenport, or whatever name it was back then—was a very famous harbor to those same pirates who sought cities to hide their treasures from other pirates and the law, and too, it was famous for being a good place for them to lay low after a heist. The pirates drank all day, and by night, they rapped any woman who was unlucky enough to walk the streets while they were around; because of that, many women were impregnated and left by the pirates alone as they sailed away after a while; that led to the creation of the oldest orphanage in the city, one that used to be functional until some years ago: The Red Roses Garden. It is said that the orphans back then used to sit on the beach to wait, watching the waves come and go, dreaming awake of one day seeing the pirates return so they could meet their fathers; the name was actually given by those same kids and adopted as official a while after."

Telling the story, I even forget to hold that same smile I was trying to use as a mask; the expression on my face I can't see or feel, but by the woman's face looking at me, attentively listening, I can tell it isn't a good one.

"That is, indeed, a sad story; I'm sorry for letting my curiosity get the best of me, detective."

"Oh, no, please don't say that; it's fine, really; it is just something hard to swallow sometimes. Everyone in the city shares the same sentiment of wanting to forget it; even so, it is part of our story; it's sad to say, but if it wasn't for that, the orphanage would have never come to be, and they did more than enough good to compensate for a wrongdoing that wasn't even theirs to begin with. "

"Did you..." On Dalia's face, she keeps an expression that tells me she is fighting herself not to ask more; even so, the part of her who wants to ask something seems to win by the way her hands come to strengthen their hold on the wheel. "Did you know the orphanage well before it was closed? Once more, please don't feel obliged to answer my question."

Of all the things I could do to answer it, ranging from staying quiet, sharing some more with her, or smiling and nodding my head to divert her attention from it, my instinct to be truthful, like with her to ask, takes the better hand.

"Yes, you can say I do." Even with an honest answer, I make sure to present myself as less open to diving deeper into this topic.

Out of nowhere, a kick on Dalia's seat steals both our attention, and when I look at Yui, the person who kicked it, I notice they start gesturing something for Dalia that I can't quite grasp; I assume they ask for them to stop or control herself before they just go back to petting the golden.

To our luck—but mostly mine—the road ahead starts to come to life again, and soon enough we can move forward again; the conversation is forgotten like a cigarette butt thrown out of the window.