The Reaper
“she shouted down the stairs. “Looks like we have company.” She set the paintbrush down on the plastic floor cover and took the turpentine with her to the bathroom to wash the paint off her hands. She hated using oil-based paint because of the lingering smell, but until they got the chalet aired out after a long winter closed up tight, she would rather smell paint fumes than the charred smells from last season’s woodstove fires. She dried her hands on her painter’s apron and headed downstairs ...as the doorbell rang. Eric stood close to the door, anticipating the cop’s approach. Before opening the door, he looked at Tessa as she walked down the huge staircase. He frowned, and she shrugged in a don’t ask me gesture. Eric opened the door. “Good afternoon, officer. Can we help you?” The Royal Canadian Mounted Police officer came dressed in full uniform. He wore the Stetson hat, the pressed shirt and even the red stripes down the leg of his pants. But he had no horse. Is there a parade in town today or has this guy gone off the reserve? As Tessa approached the door, he lifted off his hat, and nodded ever so slightly. “Afternoon, folks.MoreLess
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