Footsteps coming from the back of the store.
Tess lowered her voice. “And on a residents-only day like today, terra indigene who have been curious about what it’s like to be in a coffee shop will venture in for the experience.”
How many of the Others living in the Courtyard wouldn’t come to the coffee shop because it was open to humans? Did they resent the human employees who worked in the Market Square and were allowed to shop there? Or was it a case of numbers? A handful of humans posed no danger and therefore could be tolerated, but a shop filled with humans was a place to avoid?
Did the terra indigene who lived and worked in the Courtyards feel the pressure of being surrounded by an enemy day after day? Or did they find relief in knowing at least some of their kind would always survive a conflict simply because they were so devastatingly lethal?
And what did that say about Simon Wolfgard’s unprecedented decision to allow even a few humans beyond the Human Liaison to interact with the Others living in the Courtyard?
He saw them enter the main part of the coffee shop—six males and two females. Based on general rules of coloring, three males had the amber eyes of the Wolves, one male and one female had the black hair and eyes of the Crows, and he couldn’t tell whether the rest were Hawks or Owls or a kind of earth native he hadn’t seen before.
“I won’t disturb your guests,” Monty said quietly. “I’ll wait for Officer Kowalski outside.”
“Stay,” Tess said. It was more command than request.
Monty hesitated a moment, then, with a nod to the group still huddled near the back hallway, he took a seat at a table close to the archway leading into Howling Good Reads.
Tess pointed at the other tables. “Sit.”
Wary, always watching him, they split up and sat at tables that were the farthest they could get from him. And all of them chose chairs that kept him in sight.
Kowalski opened the front door and came in. He gave the Others a startled glance, confirming Monty’s suspicion that these terra indigene weren’t usually seen by the humans who were allowed in the Courtyard. Giving them all a nod, Kowalski joined his lieutenant.
Tess brought a tray to their table. She set out two mugs of coffee, along with a small bowl of sugar and a little pitcher of cream. She also gave them silverware and napkins. Then she handed them both a sheet of heavy paper that had a printed menu.
No doubt intending to make a comment about being given a menu, Kowalski opened his mouth, took one look at Tess’s hair, which suddenly had green streaks and started curling, and said nothing.
“Our sandwiches today are sliced beef or chicken. I also have a quiche with a side of fresh fruit,” Tess said. “Those are in addition to our usual menu.”
We’re a demonstration, Monty realized. A live training film showing what to do in a particular situation. That’s why Tess wanted us to stay. “I’ll have the quiche and fresh fruit.”
When Tess looked at Kowalski, Karl said, “I’d like the beef sandwich.”
“Would you like a side of fresh fruit with that?” Tess asked.
“Yes, please.”
Merri Lee came out of the back and slipped behind the counter. The human woman looked a little bruised around the eyes. Could be nothing more than lack of sleep. Like Heather Houghton, Merri Lee was a student at Lakeside University, and Monty remembered the late nights of studying for a test or writing a paper that was due the next day.
So it could be nothing more than lack of sleep. Or it could be something else. Since Karl was making an effort not to notice, he would find out later if his officer had heard something.
Tess took the orders from the terra indigene, then helped Merri Lee get everyone served.
They watched him, those Wolves and Crows and the rest. They watched how he spread a napkin on his lap, then, after a moment’s hesitation, did the same thing. They watched what utensil he used and what, like Karl’s sandwich, could be eaten with hands. They watched Merri Lee walking around the tables, refilling coffee mugs and water glasses.
They watched, and as he listened to Karl chatting about the workout equipment at Run & Thump and the new book his fiancée, Ruth, was waiting for, Monty slowly realized these terra indigene weren’t from the Courtyard. At least, not this Courtyard. Maybe they’d made some of the deliveries of meat and produce and had decided to stop in the coffee shop before heading home. Maybe they were here for a meeting with Simon Wolfgard. Maybe they had come in from a settlement in the wild country that had little or no contact with humans.
Whoever they were and wherever they came from, it wasn’t just the coffee shop that was a new experience for them. Just being around a human was something they’d never done before. At least, it wasn’t something they’d done when they weren’t intending to kill and eat the human. Now here they were, drinking coffee and consuming pastries and sandwiches while responding to Merri Lee’s friendly comments with stiff, precise words, like travelers who used a foreign-language phrase book to communicate.
Would they go to Howling Good Reads next and purchase books to learn how to use human money?
For the first time since he started coming into A Little Bite, Tess gave them a bill. Feeling more and more like an actor in a play, Monty pulled out his wallet, refusing Kowalski’s offer to pay for half. Tess brought back the change, and he and Karl discussed the correct percentage for a tip. They didn’t raise their voices. In fact, he spoke more softly than usual. But he knew every one of the terra indigene heard what they said and filed it away.
It was a relief to leave and get into the patrol car. Kowalski started the car but didn’t put it in gear.
“That was weird,” Kowalski said. “I remember my dad taking a bunch of us kids to an ice-cream parlor and doing much the same thing, talking about tips and reminding us of the correct behavior we’d discussed on the way to the shop. Only, none of the kids he was teaching could have bitten his arms off if they didn’t like what he said.”
“Have you ever wondered how the Others choose the teachers who show them how to be human?” Monty asked.
Karl gave him a wary look. “They’re never human, Lieutenant. They just mimic us to get what they want.”
Monty nodded. “Yes. They mimic. And you’re right. They will never be human. But it occurred to me that who the Others choose as a template determines if they mimic the best or the worst of what it means to be human.”
Karl sighed. “I guess that makes us templates.”
“Yes, it does,” Monty agreed. “And that makes me hopeful for all of us.”
As they pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the Chestnut Street station, Monty wondered if the visitors at the Courtyard were somehow connected to the deaths in Walnut Grove.
Meg gathered the rags, dustpan and broom, and spray bottle of cleaner she needed to tidy up the Liaison’s Office. The novelty of cleaning had worn off after the first couple of times she’d done it on her own, but she liked the end result. Besides, a clean office equaled a mouse-free office.
The Liaison’s Office was a rectangular building divided into three big rooms. The back room had the bathroom as well as a storage room with bins full of clothes that the Others used when they shifted from fur or feathers to human. It also had a kitchen area and a small round table and two chairs. The middle room was the sorting room. It held the large rectangular table where she sorted the mail and packages that came for the businesses and residents of the Lakeside Courtyard. The front room had a three-sided counter where she talked to deliverymen and accepted packages. It also had two handcarts parked by the delivery door that opened between the front room and the sorting room. And it held Nathan Wolfgard, sprawled on the large dog bed—now called a Wolf bed—that she’d purchased as a friendly gesture toward the Wolf who had been assigned to guard her during working hours.