A guy walks into a bar . . . .
That line has a million possible endings and that’s why Rolf Silke loves his job. He has always enjoyed trying to guess at and listening to people’s stories. Although it was his wife who prompted their move to Cobblestone Circle a few years ago, for Rolf, the deciding factor was that the town needed a pub. It was the perfect match for him. He and Dorcas purchased a home at one end of town, and the building that was to become The Burgundy Turtle Pub at the other.
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That seems so long ago and now Rolf cannot imagine his life without his daily walks down Main Street between his home and his pub. He thoroughly enjoys meeting everyone along the way and stopping to chat about every little detail that is going on the village. Lately these chats have centered around the mysterious activities at the beach. Everyone is very curious to know what is happening up there.
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Some a bit too curious for his liking. Just this morning he had to sneak out of his own house to avoid his neighbor, Colleen O’Dooley, and her incessant questions. She thinks just because he has a great barkeep’s ear that he knows things others don’t. That sneaking did him little good though because as soon as he entered the center of town, Eleanor Thistlewhitte, another of the town’s more inquisitive inhabitants, flagged him down and started firing questions at him.
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She flapped on and on about how it certainly wasn’t her son building a new art gallery because she would know all about that. The more she talked, the more Rolf became fascinated by just how quickly the words were flowing out of her mouth, which of course made it extremely hard for him to concentrate on exactly what those words were. He nodded and smiled occasionally as she continued to ramble and thankfully was saved from what was sure to be a lengthy encounter when Mimsy Shrewsbury emerged from the Our Place cafe. He stood there for a moment before coming to his senses and slipped silently away, ducking into the barber shop to wait until the clucking hens wandered off arm in arm. |
As he puts down all the bar stools for the lunch crowd, Rolf’s mind returns to the mystery. It’s just so peculiar that not a single soul knows what’s going on. Whoever is behind the construction, they want to make a grand entrance into this sleepy village. Rolf shrugs and settles in for another day ~ a day hopefully filled with more clues about this mystery.
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