The Samantha Rain Mysteries

Chapter 17

17

After the day she had, all Samantha wanted was to get home, take a scalding hot shower, and crawl into bed with a glass of whisky. The big moving van in her driveway crushed her hopes of that happening.

A full head of brown hair bopped out of the back and shot her a pearling smile. “Sam! I thought you said you wouldn’t be home.”

“I thought you said you weren’t moving until Friday,” Samantha groaned, dodging a moving man.

“It is Friday, dummy.” Melissa’s bemused smile only irritated her more.

“I forgot.” She swerved past a heap of cardboard boxes and avoided the plastic bag obstructing the entrance. “How long until everything is packed up?”

Her ex-wife scratched her head. “Maybe another hour or two?”

“Great…” Samantha ignored another man carrying trays and dishes. The house looked like it had been ransacked and burglarised. She had no idea why her ex-wife needed such a large van or this many movers, but she didn’t really care. If Melissa wanted to empty her house, then she could. Their marriage was over and she lost her. There was nothing else of value left to take.

She poured herself a good glass of whisky, desperate for the warm and numbing sting. It always helped take her mind off things, although it was hard when those things were memories from years and years of marriage. The vase they brought back from Greece that usually decorated the corner of the living room, hastily wrapped in newspaper. A painting they bought at an auction together used to compliment a set of Japanese katana swords. With the swords gone, the lonely painting looked out of place on the blank wall.

While Samantha knew this was her home, it didn’t feel like it anymore. Maybe this was for the best, she thought. A clean house, a fresh start. The bachelor life at thirty-six…

She glared at her reflection in the window, suddenly self-conscious about the imperfections on her skin and the way her shirt wrinkled over her love handles. She’d never been that insecure about her appearance and when she had a hot wife on her arm, it didn’t matter. But now her marriage was over and Melissa was no longer looking at her.

She’d never felt older.

Samantha downed her whisky in one and whirled past her ex. “Lock up when you’re done. Don’t touch my whisky.”

“I know, I know.” Melissa followed her to the front door. “Where are you going? You just got home.”

She didn’t know yet. She just wanted to get away. “Out.”

Melissa sighed. “Sam...”

She turned around hopefully. “Yes?”

“If you’re heading out, can you grab some boxes and bring them to the van?”

Rude.

Samantha balled her hands but grabbed a cardboard box anyway. From years and years of experience, she knew it was easier to do it than argue. What did it matter anyway?

“Oh, and can you do something about your new dog? It’s whining all the time,” Melissa called after her.

That was it. Sam dropped the box in the middle of the hallway and glared at her ex. “Fine!”

“What? What did I say?”

She held up her hand, silencing the other woman. “Just get your stuff out of my house, okay?”

Without waiting for her to say anything, she entered her office where her puppy jumped up against her legs. She picked the hellhound up, just so she could safely slam the door shut.

The puppy whined softly, startled by the loud noise.

“Sorry, little one.” Samantha kissed the puppy’s head affectionately. “I should really think of a good name for you. Not Demon Bite though.”

“Arf!”

“You’re so cute. Do you want to go for your first walk?” With the puppy in hand, she rummaged through the boxes on her desk. She had a bunch of dog things delivered, but hadn’t had the time to sort through them properly yet. There was a lead in there somewhere and a bunch of different treats.

“Got it.” She placed the dog back down and after discarding the plastic wrapping, she clicked the brand-new lead in place. “There. How’s that?”

The puppy looked up at her, not bothered by the lead. She hardly seemed to notice it. “Arf?”

“You’re such a good girl.” She picked the dog back up so they could get out of the house quickly. She didn’t want Melissa to get a good look at her puppy and realise there was something off about her.

After wandering around the city for hours, Samantha found herself in front of the Drunken Turnip, shivering and desperate for a drink.

“Shall we go inside?” she asked her hellhound.

The pup whined softly, her tail wagging.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Sam pushed into the inviting bar, catching a couple of stares as she made her way to the bar. She sat down on one of the barstools and placed her coat on the bar.

The young bartender swung his towel over his shoulder as he approached her. “What can I get you?”

“A Wisp Hopper, please.” She rummaged through the pockets of her coat for cash and held out a wrinkled bill when the bartender returned with a pearling glass of ice-cold beer. “Here.”

“It’s on the house.”

Sam frowned. “What? Why?”

“You’re one of Lilith’s, aren’t you?”

One of?

Despite herself, a tightness curled through her chest. If she didn’t know any better, she’d have recognised it as jealousy, but that couldn’t possibly be it.

“One of Lilith’s…” she trailed off, prompting the young man.

“Wardens,” he finished. He gestured to her. “Right? You were here not that long ago. I’m Brendan.”

Samantha clicked her tongue. “Yes, of course. Brendan. I appreciate Lilith’s generosity, but I’d rather pay for my drinks.”

“Oh, I possibly couldn’t. We take care of our own in here.”

She pushed the bill towards him. “I’m not officially part of your clan yet, so take this. Put it in the till or consider it a tip.”

“That’s far too generous,” Brendan protested as he put his hand on the bill.

“Then just keep the drinks coming.”

The bartender nodded. “Certainly, Miss…”

“Samantha.”

“Miss Samantha.”

“Just Samantha,” she corrected him. “Oh, and something for my hellhound, please.”

“Coming right up,” he grinned. He waltzed away, serving someone at the opposite side of the circular bar and returning with a dried sausage and a bowl of nuts. “Enjoy.”

She shot him a grateful smile. It didn’t matter how nice a bar was, it was only as good as the service. She dropped the sausage for her hellhound and took a big swig from her beer, welcoming the refreshing feel.

“Hmmm,” she hummed, taking another sip. And then another.

The bottom of the glass didn’t touch the coaster again until it was empty. She accepted a couple of refills from Brendan in a futile attempt to block out what was happening at her house, but when it became clear she couldn’t shake her thoughts, she gestured for the bartender again.

“Whisky.” She placed another bill down. “Keep them coming.”

“Certainly. Any preference?”

She slapped another bill down. “Your best.”

“Well…” he pulled a bottle from the illuminated cabinet behind him. “A blended Red Ocarina, aged two years.”

Samantha pulled up her nose. She wanted to get drunk, but she still had standards. “I might as well just take a shot of pure alcohol. Do you have anything better, Branden?”

“Ummm…” He hesitated for a moment before diving under the bar for an unopened bottle and a tulip-shaped glass. “Single origin, Flying Deer, aged for fifteen years.”

“That’s better.”

“It’s… It’s from Miss Lillith’s personal collection though.”

Samantha sighed. “Didn’t she say I could have anything I wanted?”

“I suppose she did, yes.”

“Good.” She held out the glass for him. “I didn’t realise Lilith liked whisky.”

“She doesn’t. Boss is a lover, but she never got the taste for it.” He broke the seal and poured a good glass of whisky, the amber stream pooling in the crystal glass where it released the aroma.

“Hmmm… That smells lovely. What brand was this again?”

“Flying Deer.”

“I’ll remember that.” She allowed some of the aroma to bloom, enjoying the complicated notes. This whisky was almost too good to drink for the sake of drinking. Almost. In one go, she threw the whisky back. A cardinal sin, but at this moment, Samantha didn’t care. She just enjoyed the tingle on her tongue and how it burned the back of her throat pleasantly on its way down. Smooth, but layered. Complex, but easy to drink.

She pushed the glass back to Brendan. “Another, please.”

“I…” He sighed. “Okay, sure.”

“Is it money?” She reached into her pocket for her credit card and put it down on the bar. “I’ll buy the bottle.”

“Miss…”

“Samantha.”

“Miss Samantha. It’s an expensive bottle.”

“That never stopped me before.” She nudged the card. “Please. Oh, and another snack for my dog.”

Brendan looked torn for a moment, before accepting Sam’s card and swiping it through his portable card machine. He held it out for the PIN code and nodded as the screen lit up green. With a polite smile, he placed the bottle down in front of Samantha and handed her another dried sausage. “Sorry to be a pain. Enjoy the Flying Deer.”

“No worries.” She poured herself a generous glass and brought it up to her lips. “I will.”