The investigator straightened his tie for what seemed to be the tenth time since he’d arrived at the Slaughtered Lamb, Anisse noticed. The guard behind him seemed more clean-cut than him, but he seemed less dull, less jittery. The questions droned on for Jarel, but he kept his gentlemanly air in light of it all. He had called in the missing report for little Miss Lunita, after all. It was a smart move, Anisse thought, taking the suspicion off of the Lamb as quick as he could by alerting the guard to the gnome’s dissapearance.
The Lamb certainly did not need anymore suspicion or unwelcome rumors.
“And how would you describe these abductors, Mr. Moor? Anything about them that you can remember?” The investigator flicked his pencil nimbly around two of his fingers. The bartender rubbed at the gristle of his face, flicking a lock of hair before answering with a sigh.
“Well. The two were masked that came to the bar. Could have pinned them as warlocks, definitely, by the robes. Quite a bit distracting, those two. Didn’t quite get a good look at the ones that actually took poor Miss Lunita though. One minute she was here, then she gone! Always trying to help, that gnome. Couldn‘t have asked for a better waitress!”
Better waitress. Anisse’s face remained still as stone, emotionless, her eyes on her task. Her fingers flexed out what dismay she felt on the dough she was molding, however, crimping it hard to the edge of the pie foil. Apparently, she also had to act like an idiot and run off with complete strangers as well before she could get any sort of recognition. There was no crime here. It was a case of pure stupidity.
Not that Anisse could have a word edgewise. Jarel had forbidden her to say much of anything to the investigator besides, ‘would you like a drink?’ Anisse understood the bartender’s need to save his own skin, but to think that anyone would actually harm Lunita was…
…well, she might‘ve. Indeed, if the gnomess had continued to work at the Lamb consistently with Anisse, she might’ve been tempted to add her cotton candy heart to her collection. But that was entirely besides the point.
“Did the gnome have any enemies you might know of?” The investigator’s eyes flicked over to Anisse as she began to rock the blade of a kitchen knife over the cutting board, slicing up cooked pieces of meat. She was quick, methodical, her gaze never straying from the task. Liver of a boar. Perhaps. Anisse could hardly tell anymore what she was cutting up, or remember what she’d put in the icebox. It was best not to label what she’d hunted for the day.
The knife might stray if she thought too much on it. Or on Lunita.
“What? Enemies? She was a pleasant little thing, wasn’t she Miss Anna?”
“…sickeningly pleasant, of course.”
“Yes, yes. Why, we had people come into the Lamb just to speak to Lunita!”
The investigator finally tore his eyes away from the knife and the chopped meat when Anisse turned to toss it into the metal pot behind her. She’d left the kitchen knife propped, stabbed into the wooden bartop. The guard sniffed at the air as the stew broiled, and he shifted in hunger.
“Eyy.” Anisse paused mid-stir as the guard leaned on the countertop to smile at her. His helm came off and rolled across the bar before he stopped it with his large hands. “Can you give me a bowl of that? Got some coin in it for you.” The Investigator sighed as his partner sat down to eat. The pencil he held was now tapping into the tablet in his other hand.
“So, a possible kidnapping. Stalking, possibly beforehand. Hmm. Thank you for the report, Mister Jarel. Best question your…other patrons below.” The investigator’s face creased in discomfort as he looked down the torchlit ramp that lead to the lower levels of the Slaughtered Lamb. It was obvious he did not want to be down there. Anisse contained an amused smile as she observed the man‘s hesitation, ladling the stew into a wooden bowl. Yes, the guard was hungry, his large hands overwhelming the serving bowl as he took it to his lips. Who needed spoons? She watched with appreciation at his appetite, like an artist appreciating the live canvas he drew inspiration from. It was always good when someone could share in her work. Even if he was simply consuming it. By the time the partnered Investigator finally made it past the torch that lead to the basement, the guard was asking for seconds.
She gladly spun around to refill the wooden bowl, feeling all her apprehension about the Lunita incident slowly start to widdle away. She could chase after her “doggies” and Jarel would have one less on the dwindling payroll to worry about. The situation was not completely horrible. The gnome would not be missed, and Anisse could have what remained of her sanity back.
The barmaid was almost near humming in her optimism when she turned back around to serve the hungry guard. The sound of heavy boots clogged the entrance next, and her eyes were drawn irrevocably to the source. Muddy, unlaced leather boots. Stomping all over the tavern floorboards. Which she would have to clean after. Feeling her uplifting thoughts pitch back down into vexation, she sighed deeply as Jarel heartily greeted the newest patron.
“Evening, gent! What’ll it be?”
“A…a brandy. If you could, please. And…I was looking for someone…”
Anisse untangled the old mop from behind the counter from its bucket and shoved both into the sink a bit harshly, taking a glance at the one who’d created more work for her. She spied the sleeve of his leather frock coat, sporting a crack near the shoulder. The linen cuffs of his shirt sleeve was frayed around his rested hand. Dirty. The fingernails made her cringe, and she looked away, quick to pull the bucket from the sink.
“Oh?” Jarel chuckled as he pulled a dark bottle out of the icebox and set it near the dirty hand. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to be a little more specific!”
“Its….ahahaha…its more than a little silly, really. Possibly on the “Im going stark raving mad!” sort of silly, but I was told that maybe…”
There was a long silence in which the man did not finish his mumblings, the soft-spoken voice already hard enough to hear as it was. What was it already?! When Anisse looked up to ask exactly what the confused ponce was babbling about, she found that he was staring right at her from across the bartop. Staring. The sudden creak of his leather coat combined with his fumbling overtaking of the stool in front of her made Anisse nearly jump backward.
What the hell…? She glowered at the staring patron.
And as the soft amber eyes stared back at her in disbelief, she went stiff, her face slackened.
“…Anna…?!” The sound of his voice--the soft, hopeful whisper--it sent a shiver up the barmaid’s spine that weakened her limbs, her hands. The bucket crashed to the floor behind the bar, and Jarel bellowed a few colorful words in surprise, water sloshing everything.
“N…n-n…c…have to…go to…inventory lists…yes…”
At the threat of being unraveled in its conditioning, Anisse’s mind forced her body into action.
Overhelmed and unprepared, it took off with her body and ran from the Lamb as fast as it could.
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