I woke up with the same sunny greeting as the morning before. My clock read seven again, and I pondered whether I could chuck the machine clear across the room. That wouldn't have changed the time, however, nor the knock on my door. I sat up and swung my feet over the side. Maybe they would go away.
It didn't work. There was another knock.
I groaned, slid off the bed and glanced down at myself. My clothes were wrinkled, but otherwise presentable. I hurried to the door and opened it after the third knock. The color drained from my face when I saw Dimitri Vuk standing on the porch with a small, strange smile on his face. His eyes flitted over my attire, but he didn't lose his regal posture or smile.
Vuk bowed his head to me and spoke in a thick accent I could only place as kind of Russian. "Good morning, miss. I hope I am not disturbing you."
"O-oh, no. I was-um, I was trying to-um-" I glanced down at myself "-trying to iron my clothes."
"I see. That is good. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dimitri Vuk, miss, and I come on behalf of my employer, Mr. William Campbell. He would be very pleased if you would breakfast with him this morning," Vuk requested.
The terrified little girl inside me screamed and terrifying visions of bad horror movies flashed through my mind. I would play the part of the stupid teenage girl who goes inside the house when the audience is screaming at her not to do it. "That's-um, that's kind of him, but I don't think I could intrude on his hospitality," I argued.
"He would be very disappointed if you would not come," Vuk told me. His tone told me a 'no' wouldn't be an acceptable answer. Then again, what was I worrying about? I'd just seen them doing something in the lake, but I didn't have any proof it was even illegal, much less murderous.
"All right. Let me put on my shoes," I told him. Tennis shoes for a quick escape.
When I was ready Vuk stepped aside and swept his hand in front of him. I passed him and out into the chilly air of the early morning. A faint fog drifted from the lake and onto the lawns. Vuk led me across our joined yards and to the front door of their little cabin. He opened the door and motioned for me to enter first. I swallowed my fear and paranoia, and stepped inside.
The cabin was rustic. There was a main room to my right and a small kitchen and dining room to my left. Ahead was a narrow hall that led to the rear door, and there was a door on either side of the hall. The floor boards were hewn logs polished to a shine and the walls were a thick lay of chink built by several generations of owners. The furniture, a couch, a few chairs, and the dining set, was made of thick pieces of wood, but cushions softened the hard surface and backs. The roof was open rafters and oddities cluttered the walls. There were pairs of old snowshoes, road signs, newspaper clippings, and other such small trinkets that one could look at all day and not see everything.
Will stood by the cloth-covered dining table and strode forward when I entered. He stood in front of me and his eyes swept over me with that intense gaze. "I'm very glad you were willing to come on such short notice," he commented.
I sniffed the air and caught a whiff of eggs, toast, and coffee. "It smells like I chose wisely," I replied.
Will smiled and guided me over to the table. "Vuk is an excellent cook. I haven't found better in my travels," he revealed. I felt like a lady when he pulled out a chair for me near the head of the table, and I felt like a captive when he scooted me close to the table. He seated himself at the head on my right.
"Olivia told me you've seen a lot of places," I told him.
He set his napkin in his lap and raised an eyebrow. "Has she? I hope she didn't exaggerate too much," he joked.
"She only mentioned Africa and Eastern Europe," I answered.
"Ah. Yes, I have been there. The former more than the latter," he replied.
"For cultural studies or just to see the sights?" I wondered.
"Both, actually." Vuk came between us and set a mug in front of each of us. He poured some nice, steaming coffee into the cups. "Thank you, Vuk," Will told him. Vuk bowed his head and returned to the kitchen. He lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip.
"Find anything interesting?" I asked him.
Will paused and his eyes looked over the lip of the mug at me. He pursed his lips and set the mug on the table. "Some interesting things, and others-well, not so interesting, and I acquired some unusual habits," he admitted.
"Unusual habits? Like what?" I asked him.
He smiled. "Like taking late-night board rides with Vuk. I believe you caught us in the act last night."
Here it was. The murderer had found me out. "I-I-"
Will shook his head. "There's no need to explain. Rather, it is I who should offer you an explanation. You see, Vuk and I have a habit of feeding the fish in the lake. It's a custom I took up while in the far lakes of the Ukraine," he told me.
I blinked. "They feed the fish in the Ukraine like that?" I wondered.
He chuckled. "In a way. Think of it as chumming, but with the intention of catching the fish later once they are large and well-fed," he suggested.
I cringed. "That's a-well, interesting," I commented. It was strange as heck, and Will could see I thought it was strange as heck.
"I can see why you would think it a little odd, but don't hold my peculiarities against me," he pleaded. His tone was honestly begging me to accept him at face value.
At that moment Vuk came with two plates holding a thankfully normal breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast smothered in butter.
I eyed the food, especially the small mound of bacon on my plate, and glanced up at him with a mischievous glint in my eye. "How could I hold anything against a man who doesn't skimp on the bacon?" I teased.
Will smiled and we dug into our food talking like old friends. It was a pleasant start to an exciting day.
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