Gwen made her way down the dim hallway of an old one-story mall to her office. Malls have been slowly dying over the last few years due to online purchases being cheaper. While this was overall hard on the mall owners, it was a great deal for her. As of late her, only neighbors in this hollowed out building was a Chinese Food Restaurant, E-Gui owned by Mr. Jing. Sweet old man. He would often bring leftovers down to Gwen's office to make sure she had eaten, he was a tiny man, and Gwen loved his company. He often talked how difficult he found it to work in his own restaurant; it made him hungry all the time. He even joked saying God cursed with a small mouth to make sure he could not eat his own cooking.
GNC, managed by a young man named Paul. They had passed each other often in the halls. Paul like most people in his generation was always glued to his phone. So other than a friendly smile neither ever spoke a word to the other.
The Perthshire Gazette. A small book and magazine shop. Owned by William Cornwall. Another older gentleman, his shop was the closest to her office space so they interacted often. Mr. Cornwall swears social media and digital media are all just a phase and print will make a comeback, he also seems to think a red baseball cap goes with every outfit he owns. She asked him about it once; he just smiled and admitted to wearing it to hide his thinning hair. He was a gentleman, very old-fashioned in a way that showcased manners above all else. Gwen would intentionally stop by to buy a cup of coffee and a magazine that she would never read but they made good waiting room material in her own place of business.
Lastly, there was the Cinema. It was Called Gardner Center, a little run down now: but it still drew a crowd. It was an arcade, inflatable jungle gym, and movie theater. You could go to watch a movie, or buy a day pass at 75$ a pop, but that allowed you to game and play in the other rooms all day, and one movie with food. So overall, it was a popular place. Gwen moved pass closed shop fronts; some still had naked mannequins on display. All of a sudden, she felt a chill run up her spine.
{What was that?} Gwen spun around; a strange feeling of déjà vu washed over her.
{Odd, could have sworn I saw something.}
This was the same feeling she had earlier this morning when leaving the police station.
"Hello Gwen!" a cheerful shout came from the Gazette storefront. Standing there was Mr. Cornwall. He was just a few inches shorter than Gwen, and she only stood at 5'2". He wore a green and red plaid shirt with black slacks, and of course his red ball cap. He had a very pleasant demeanor.
Gwen smiled warmly. Like one would do when visiting your Grandparents.
"HI Mr. Cornwall." Gwen stepped into his store. The floor plan was very simple. Just pass the doors the shop opened with a large circle electric fireplace with chairs, bean bags, and floor pillows all around it. Gwen could see it crowded with young and old in its heyday, each reading stories to the other. Along the walls to the right where bookshelves filled with books new and old. Some well-loved; others look like museum pieces when compared to the newer ones. To the left was Mr. Cornwall's desk with an old cash register. His desk was grand in size; one you could tell was heavy and quality made just by looking at it. Decorated with wonderful carvings, curving Knots, crosses, boats, and a few small swords. It was as if the desk told the tale of a great battle. The desk was so grand that Mr. Cornwall looked like a small child behind it. He kept a small coffee pot to the corner of his desk with all kinds of mugs. He allowed her to choose a mug and pour a cup of coffee. His coffee was the best. It was always perfectly hot. Never overly hot, and had a simple sweet taste. Gwen had asked him once where he got his beans. He just laughed and said family secret
"Now, now Gwen, I have told you its William, Mr. Cornwall was my father, rest his soul." William scolded her with a whimsical tone.
"Can't have you aging me before my time" he continued has he sat in the large leather chair behind his desk.
The chair was another work of art to Gwen. It was royal in its look. Deep brown to match the desk with a blood-red colored leather cushion.
"And you know full well that my mom would have belted me for not showing you the proper respect." Gwen replied mockingly slapping her hip.
Gwen reached into her jeans pocket and dropped 3 quarters into the small bank on the side of the coffee pot.
{Best damn cup of coffee in the State, with a price you cannot beat}
It always surprises Gwen by how cheap he sold things in his shop. How never once had she seen him count a collection box. He kept them around the store; every aisle had one. You could drop some change in a box, and then go read by the "fire" or rent the book. Only on very rare occasions had she ever seen him use the Register. However, it must work well for him; his shop was still open while many others had closed.
"You have a visitor in your office." William said has he pointed three doors down to her office.
"He's been in there with Ms. Marci for 10 minutes."
"Well then I best get going, can't keep the client waiting."
She turned to leave,
"Gwen, adjust your shirt, can't let them see you carrying." William's voice still carried its whimsical tone.
"Thanks William." Gwen smiled has she adjusted her shirt to cover her firearm. That is the issue with carrying in the small of your back. You cannot see it, but from time to time, your shirt catches. Moreover, while she had a permit for her Sig Sauer, it tends to make others uncomfortable. Gwen walked down towards her office while William stepped out into the hallway. He leaned up against the wall of his shop that intersected with the utility hallway. The hallway was dark, so dark most people avoid it. Darkness tends to make people feel uneasy.
"She almost saw you. I certainly did. Stone keeping tabs on her?" William never looked down the hallway has he spoke.
"He's the boss." a delicate voice replied from the Shadows.
"Is she in trouble? Or the trouble?" William asked. His whimsical tone had left his voice.
"My orders are to follow and watch. That's all you get old man.," the voice snapped.
"Now Ms. Brollachan, no need to get rude with me, tell Stone I don't appreciate him having one of my friends followed." Anger lined William's voice.
"Times have changed William. The days where your approval or disapproval meaning anything are long gone" Ms Brollachan replied from the shadows, making sure not to be seen.
"Aye that they have." William stepped away from the wall and entered his store to sit behind his desk.
"Oh William, just out of curiosity, how many of the old families are still around?" Ms. Brollachan's voice while playful in tone clearly carried a heavy weight. William stopped; his shoulders sank the way people's do when you are spiritually tired.
"Not many." William replied. The answer filled with sadness.
William gathered himself, straightened up just in time to hear footsteps coming towards him, and the sounds of footsteps going down the utility hallway. Ms. Brollachan was leaving, while someone else was coming in front of William.
"Hello Bai, my old friend." William's mood lifted when he noticed Bai walking towards him with a tray in hand. Bai Jing had been the owner of E-Gui Restaurant for the last 2 decades. He was a little taller than William was, his age could have been close to William's or even older, since the best answer Bai would ever give was he ages well. He was always sharply dressed. Tonight it was black slacks pressed, with a white collared shirt, and a red silk jacket. Mr. Jing stopped just in front of William. He took a deep breath in.
"Ms. Brollachan was here?" Bai's face twisted with discomfort.
"She was." William replied with a nod.
Bai turned and carried the tray, which held all different kinds of food from across his homeland into William's store and sat it down on the desk.
"What did she want?" Bai's voice carried a heavy sound of concern.
William just replied by looking at Gwen walking down the far end of the hallway approaching her office door.
"Oh. I see. Well Gum Shoes have a knack for finding trouble." Bai chuckled.
"Private Eye." William replied.
"Excuse me?" Bai stared in confusion.
"They are called Private Eyes or Private Investigators now. They haven't been called Gum Shoes since 1926." William laughed in explanation.
End Chapter 4
Gwen made her way down the dim hallway of an old one-story mall to her office. Malls have been slowly dying over the last few years due to online purchases being cheaper. While this was overall hard on the mall owners, it was a great deal for her. As of late, her only neighbors in this hollowed-out building were a Chinese food restaurant, E-Gui, owned by Mr. Jing. Sweet old man. He would often bring leftovers down to Gwen's office to make sure she had eaten. He was tiny, and Gwen loved his company. He often talked about how difficult he found it to work in his own restaurant; it made him hungry all the time. He even joked that God cursed him with a small mouth so he could not eat his own cooking.
GNC, managed by a young man named Paul, was another neighbor. They had passed each other often in the halls. Paul, like most people in his generation, was always glued to his phone. So other than a friendly smile, neither ever spoke a word to the other.
The Perthshire Gazette, a small book and magazine shop, was owned by William Cornwall. Another older gentleman, his shop was the closest to her office, so they interacted often. Mr. Cornwall swore social media and digital media were just a phase and print would make a comeback. He also seemed to think a red baseball cap went with every outfit he owned. She asked him about it once; he just smiled and admitted he wore it to hide his thinning hair. He was a gentleman, very old-fashioned in a way that showcased manners above all else. Gwen would intentionally stop by to buy a cup of coffee and a magazine that she would never read, but they made good waiting-room material in her own office.
Lastly, there was the cinema, called Gardner Center. A little run-down now, but it still drew a crowd. It was an arcade, inflatable jungle gym, and movie theater. You could go to watch a movie or buy a day pass at $75 a pop, which allowed you to game and play in the other rooms all day and see one movie with food. Overall, it was popular.
Gwen moved past closed shop fronts; some still had naked mannequins on display. All of a sudden, she felt a chill run up her spine.
{What was that?} Gwen spun around; a strange feeling of déjà vu washed over her.
{Odd, could have sworn I saw something.}
This was the same feeling she had earlier that morning when leaving the police station.
"Hello, Gwen!" a cheerful shout came from the Gazette storefront. Standing there was Mr. Cornwall. He was just a few inches shorter than Gwen, and she only stood at 5'2". He wore a green and red plaid shirt with black slacks, and of course his red ball cap. He had a very pleasant demeanor.
Gwen smiled warmly, like one would when visiting grandparents.
"Hi, Mr. Cornwall." Gwen stepped into his store. The floor plan was very simple. Just past the doors, the shop opened to a large circular electric fireplace with chairs, bean bags, and floor pillows all around it. Gwen could imagine it crowded with young and old in its heyday, each reading stories to the other. Along the walls to the right were bookshelves filled with books, new and old. Some well-loved, others looking like museum pieces compared to the newer ones. To the left was Mr. Cornwall's desk with an old cash register. His desk was grand in size; one could tell it was heavy and quality-made just by looking at it. Decorated with intricate carvings—knots, crosses, boats, and a few small swords—it was as if the desk told the tale of a great battle. The desk made Mr. Cornwall look like a small child behind it. He kept a small coffee pot at the corner of his desk with all kinds of mugs. He allowed her to choose a mug and pour a cup of coffee. His coffee was always perfectly hot and simply sweet. Gwen had asked him once where he got his beans. He just laughed and said it was a family secret.
"Now, now, Gwen, I have told you—it's William. Mr. Cornwall was my father, rest his soul." William scolded her with a whimsical tone.
"Can't have you aging me before my time," he continued as he sat in the large leather chair behind his desk.
The chair was another work of art. Royal in its look, deep brown to match the desk with a blood-red leather cushion.
"And you know full well that my mom would have belted me for not showing you the proper respect." Gwen mockingly slapped her hip.
Gwen reached into her jeans pocket and dropped three quarters into the small bank on the side of the coffee pot.
{It always surprises me how cheap he sells things.}
{Never once have I seen him count the collection boxes. Every aisle has one. You drop some change in, grab a book, and read by the fire. Only on rare occasions have I seen him use the register. Must work well for him—his shop is still open while so many others have closed.}
"You have a visitor in your office," William said as he pointed three doors down. "He's been in there with Ms. Marci for ten minutes."
"Well then I best get going, can't keep the client waiting."
She turned to leave.
"Gwen, adjust your shirt, can't let them see you carrying," William called.
"Thanks, William." Gwen smiled as she adjusted her shirt to cover her firearm. That is the issue with carrying in the small of your back—you cannot see it, but from time to time your shirt catches. Moreover, while she had a permit for her Sig Sauer, it tended to make others uncomfortable.
Gwen walked toward her office while William stepped out into the hallway. He leaned up against the wall of his shop that intersected with the utility hallway. The hallway was dark, so dark most people avoid it. Darkness tends to make people feel uneasy.
"She almost saw you. I certainly did. Stone keeping tabs on her?" William asked.
"He's the boss," a delicate voice replied from the shadows.
"Is she in trouble? Or the trouble?" William asked, his whimsical tone gone.
"My orders are to follow and watch. That's all you get, old man," the voice snapped.
"Now, Ms. Brollachan, no need to get rude with me. Tell Stone I don't appreciate him having one of my friends followed." Anger lined William's voice.
"Times have changed, William. The days when your approval or disapproval meant anything are long gone," Ms. Brollachan replied from the shadows, making sure not to be seen.
"Aye, that they have." William stepped away from the wall and entered his store to sit behind his desk.
"Oh William, just out of curiosity, how many of the old families are still around?" Ms. Brollachan's voice, playful in tone, carried a heavy weight. William stopped; his shoulders sank as if spiritually tired.
"Not many," William replied, his answer filled with sadness.
William gathered himself, straightened up just in time to hear footsteps coming down the utility hallway. Ms. Brollachan was leaving, while someone else was approaching William.
"Hello, Bai, my old friend." William's mood lifted when he noticed Bai walking toward him with a tray in hand. Bai Jing had been the owner of E-Gui Restaurant for the last two decades. He was a little taller than William, and his age could have been close to William's, or older, since the best answer Bai would ever give was that he aged well. He was always sharply dressed. Tonight, it was black slacks pressed with a white collared shirt and a red silk jacket. Mr. Jing stopped just in front of William and took a deep breath.
"Ms. Brollachan was here?" Bai's face twisted with discomfort.
"She was," William replied with a nod.
Bai set the tray, which held all kinds of food from his homeland, on the desk.
"What did she want?" Bai asked, concern heavy in his voice.
William just looked at Gwen walking down the far end of the hallway approaching her office door.
"Oh, I see. Well, gumshoes have a knack for finding trouble." Bai chuckled.
"Private eye," William replied.
"Excuse me?" Bai stared in confusion.
"They are called private eyes or private investigators now. They haven't been called gumshoes since 1926," William laughed in explanation.