Welcome to Deep Cove

Garrett hurried up the stairs of the old inn and cursed when he tripped on the step. Forcing himself to take a calming breath, he waited for a ten count before continuing down the dimly lit corridor. Coming to the third door on his right – also the last room on this side of the building - he stopped and took another deep breath. Rapping his knuckles on the door, he waited only two seconds before it was opened.

A slim woman stood before him. She was attractive, with shoulder-length brown hair. Garrett didn’t know her exact age, but he thought she was in her early thirties. She watched him, her face betraying no emotion. She stepped away from the doorway and allowed him entry into the room. “Garrett,” she acknowledged softly. She did not look angry and her tone was not sharp, but Garrett was guarded as he entered the room. He knew she would not be happy that he was late.

Inside the door rested a table with two chairs. The table contained a lamp, a notebook, and a pair of glasses. Garrett noticed she had already written something in her book.

“Coral,” he said in return and nodded as he passed by. The woman wrinkled her nose at the pungent fish smell, but she did not question him on it. Removing his jacket, Garrett tossed it on the bed and then jumped down beside it. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered us some dinner. I’m starving.”

“I have already eaten,” she said, closing the door. She seated herself in one of the chairs, her focus once more targeting him.

“I’m glad you waited.” He felt uncomfortable under her intense stare. “I mean I’m glad you waited for me, not waited to eat.” His face grew red and he stopped talking.

“I am paid for my time,” said Coral. “You have never been late before, Garrett. I wanted to give you ample opportunity to get here.”

“Thank you. Something came up at the docks and I almost forgot you asked to see me.”

“Oh?” she inquired, reaching for her glasses and pencil. “What happened at the docks?”

“You know,” said Garrett nonchalantly, “work.” He had hoped Coral wanted to meet him for reasons unrelated to his application to become a private investigator. Now he knew this was not the case.

“Were you forced to take on work as a fish monger?” she asked.

“Why would you think that?” he asked sharply and pushed himself into a sitting position. His annoyance was unmistakeable.

Coral watched him from over her glasses. “Because you smell like fish,” she said simply.

“No,” he argued, a little louder than he had intended, “It’s because you don’t think I can get work doing anything else.”

“I did not say that, Garrett. I was only asking.”

“You know damn well it’s because of you that I had to wait so long to get my papers. I could have been official a month ago if you had written your consent.”

“I do not create the policies, Garrett,” said Coral evenly. “It is my job to assess you fairly. You are correct that I held up your paperwork, but I feel you have some issues you need to work on.”

“I have no issues!” he shot back. “And who in Hell gives you the right to interfere in my life? You don’t know me at all. I find it ironic that I have served my king and country for twenty years, yet I need your say so before I can go into business for myself.”

“I have given my consent,” said Coral patiently. “I know you have expenses to cover Garrett, and it is not my intention to make this process last any longer than it has to, but I have to be sure you are sound for this position of authority.”

“Position of authority?” snorted Garrett. “People think I’m an insurance man.”

“People will trust you with their secrets and in some cases, their lives, Garrett. We cannot accept everyone who applies. The exams are only part of the process. You must be mentally able to cope with the stresses of the job. ”

“Nor would I want you to accept every Tom, Dick, or Harry that applies,” returned Garrett. He was hot under the collar and he knew he should lower his tone. He forced himself to breathe. “It’s just that…” he shook his head and stopped speaking, still trying to get a hold of himself.

“Go on,” encouraged Coral, “I am listening.”

“I think my service record should speak for itself.”

“And it does. Your service record is not in question Garrett.”

“Then what is?”

“Your state of mind.”

Garrett felt the blood pounding in his temples now, and his jaw clenched as he denied himself the outburst he so wanted to deliver. He glared at her, but dared not speak. She watched him for a few seconds and then wrote something in her book. He thought he might break a blood vessel in at least one eye if this meeting went on much longer. A knock at the door somewhat alleviated his mood, and he nearly flew from the bed to answer it.

One of the innkeeper’s young sons waited outside with their supper. Garrett thanked the boy and took the tray inside. Setting the food on the table, he pulled out the second chair and sat across from the woman. He left her plate on the tray and made no attempt to offer it to her. He knew she wouldn’t accept it, even if she was hungry.

He felt her eyes on him as he ate his chicken and gravy. He was thankful she was quiet, but more thankful her damn pencil had been set aside. The minutes trickled by and still neither of them spoke. Poking at his potatoes, he was upset that their meeting had gotten off to such a bad start. It had been an extremely long day and he was irritable to begin with. “I’m sorry,” he said at last, pushing his plate back. “I didn’t want to come here and argue with you. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I don’t take it personally.”

He bit into a piece of buttered bread before he could say something he would regret. Finishing the roll, he wiped his mouth on a napkin and looked across the table at her. She was watching him intently. “Why did you ask me here again?” he queried. “You said yourself you have given your consent.”

“Your papers are conditional, Garrett.”

“On what?”

“I need more time to make my final decision. I want you to be happy and I want you to succeed, but I also need to know you are capable of doing this work.”

“I figured as much,” he admitted. “How long must this charade go on?”

“I will meet with you once a week, until I deem you fit to be released from probation.”

“And if I decide I don’t want to cooperate with you?”

“Then I guess there is always dock duty.”

“Are you a hard ass with everyone who applies?”

“Do you really think I’m a hard ass, Garrett?”

“Yes.”

She looked at him without blinking. Flipping through the pages of her notes she stopped and read a passage to him.

“Sometimes I don’t want to go on. It’s the same thing day after day. One menial job after another in a bid to pay off the monies you owe on a place you can’t even call your own. Sometimes I think killing for a living was easier than this.”

She stopped reading and stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent. Flipping the page, she read again.

“Nobody here respects anyone else. Everyone is out for themselves. Sometimes I wonder what they would think of me if they knew the man I am and the things I have done. I’ve never been one for politics, and mind games don’t impress me. I am a man of action.”

“Do you think I’m going to go on some kind of rampage and kill the next shop owner who overcharges me?” asked Garrett. His voice was iron, and his eyes never wavered as he stared her down.

“I don’t know, are you Garrett?”

“This is ridiculous,” he snapped. “I am… was a soldier. I have killed many men. Some have deserved it, some have not. Why do you think I came to Deep Cove?”

“Tell me.”

“To get away from it.”

“You can’t run from the things you’ve done Garrett and it’s not healthy to bury them inside you.”

“I’m not running anymore, sister.” Garrett slammed his fist on the table and stood. Stomping to the bed, he pulled on his jacket and turned to face her. “I was running for a long time. I came here to start a new life for me and Merle.” He pointed a finger at her, his features livid. “Yes, I was trained by my masters to be a warrior and to kill when necessary. I was more than adequate at it.” His voice shuddered and he went to the door. “Every time I cut a man down or slipped a knife between an opponent’s ribs, it felt like a small part of me was dying with them. I pray to God every day that I never have to kill again, but if you ask me if I would kill to protect Merle or someone else close to me, then the answer is a resounding yes. So go ahead and write that in your notebook and present it to the king. If that makes me a danger to society, so be it.”

He stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. He managed two steps and then stopped. Hating himself for it, he found himself shouting through the wall. “I’ll see you next week.” Stomping down the corridor, he shook with tension. As bad as meeting with her was, dock duty was worse.