Tea and Intrigue

Days had passed since Amber Zazuetta had received that fateful letter - alleging she was in fact, not a Zazuetta by birth - at her newsroom desk. The letter that alleged that she was adopted. While the meerkat was fully an adult, the news was a shock, even to a seasoned investigative reporter such as herself. 

On top of this already shocking news was the news that her birth mother had passed - and under suspicious circumstances, no less! Amber now found herself in a small town nestled at the base of a mountain range, riding with another Meerkat named Keith, who was technically her uncle. But she refused to address him as such.

“Is there tea or coffee or... anything?” Amber called down the stairs. Her fur was still a mess as she tried to get a handle on the world around her. Were the past two days a dream? A hallucination? Some kind of psychotic break?

“I’ve made some tea if that’s okay,” Keith called back up.

Amber rubbed her eyes, trying to remember where she was. This definitely wasn’t her apartment in town, nor was it her news desk at work. She skipped down the stairs, the clothes from yesterday still on her. She didn’t care.

“Any espresso?” Amber asked as she stood in front of Keith, a fellow meerkat and - apparently - her uncle.

“Sorry, Amber, no,” he said as he looked her up and down. “You know that’s the same outfit-”

“Yeah, I know,” Amber said gruffly. “That tea have caffeine in it or will I have to hold up the nearest gas station?”

For the first time since she had met him, Keith chuckled.

“I want to go over my notes with you again,” Amber said. “And I guess it’s better this way, with you sitting across from me.” Keith brought a piping hot cup of tea to Amber, which she sipped. “My mom isn’t my mom, correct?”

“Correct,” Keith said, his furry face back to the flat, serious one she knew slightly better.

“And my birth mom is dead.”

“Also correct,” Keith said, sipping his tea.

“And you, ‘Keith,’” she said with air quotes, “are supposedly my uncle?”

“Three for three,” he said.

Amber shook her head. “Don’t play games, bubblehead, this is serious.”

Keith gulped. “Uh, sorry. Yes, also correct.”

Amber took a sip cautiously. “I’m having enough trouble comprehending everything without you being cute.”

“Sorry,” Keith replied. “I suppose you want to see Linda’s house?”   

“Linda, my birth mother...?” Amber asked, almost to herself. Keith merely nodded, opening the kitchen door without further ado - not even bothering to lock the door behind him.

Must be a nice neighborhood, Amber thought to herself, giving the door a few suspicious looks as they left, as though it would betray them and let in a motorcycle gang while they got coffee. They silently climbed into his car: a battered-looking sedan from a prior decade. Soon they passed a weather-beaten sign welcoming them to the “sleepy town of Sutter's Rest.”

“Why would anyone come out here?” Amber remarked to Keith, 

Keith smiled ruefully. “To get away from the big city and all the drama. At least that's why I came.”

Amber snorted. “My experience tells me small towns are nothing but drama.”

“Not this one,” Keith insisted. “It's like a different world out here.”

As they drove through town, Amber noticed that it was indeed quiet - unnervingly so. It looked like something out of an old western: dusty streets, tumbleweeds, and faded storefronts. She half-expected to see a sheriff's deputy stroll out of a saloon, six-shooters at the ready.

Keith eventually stopped at a quaint two story house.

“Here we are, Linda's house. I inherited it. Not that I need it, I might try and make it a B ’n’ B,” Keith mused, leading the way.

Amber felt like she had been tossed into a hurricane. She looked at the rustic home as though she had been teleported into an alien spaceship. The meerkat licked her lips and gulped at the new world of mystery that had opened up in the middle of her life. She’d been chased by enemy troops, covered wars, and gone undercover in seedy places... 

...But this hit harder. 

This was all about where she had come from. 

Her tail twitched as her mind wandered, what if her birth mother hadn’t given her up for adoption? What path would she have found herself on? Would she be a smalltown girl who never left - content to work the same dead end job? Would she have the drive to find the truth still? 

So many possibilities, glimpses into worlds parallel to her own. 

Keith’s voice cut into Amber’s thoughts. “Yeah I know, can’t imagine what it’s like for you right now.” 

Amber shook her head clearing it of the thoughts. “Let’s just head inside already.” 

“Not a fan of the fresh mountain air?” Keith asked. 

Ignoring him, Amber stepped through the front door: Amber knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but it only served to annoy her. A waft of stale air greeted her, tinged with hints of cedar and something floral, long faded. The interior was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn tight against the sun’s late afternoon light. She could see dust motes dancing in the few beams that crept through the gaps. 

“I kept everything just as Linda left it,” Keith remarked softly, stepping inside behind her. “She had her quirks.”

Amber's sharp eyes darted around the foyer, taking in family photos lining the walls: snapshots of a younger Linda with a vibrant smile, arms wrapped around what appeared to be community members in various environmental clean-ups. There was one of her as a cub with a distinct nose print pattern, much like Amber’s.

“You didn’t clear anything out?” Amber asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she traced her paw along the wooden railing.

Keith sighed heavily. “I didn’t want to disturb anything.”

Amber swiveled her ear back. “Good, might be something useful here.” 

She stepped further into the house, each creak of the wooden floorboards beneath her paws echoing like a quiet reminder of the life she could have had.

“Where do we start?” she asked, forcing a professional tone into her voice as she turned back to Keith. 

He looked around, as if assessing the situation. “There are boxes in the attic filled with her old notes and personal papers. But first...” He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “I thought we might check out her study. It was where she kept most of her important files.”

Amber nodded, feeling a strange sense of urgency mixed with dread as they made their way down a narrow hallway adorned with more photographs each frame holding a memory that felt eerily close yet achingly distant.

Keith opened the door to the study, revealing a room that looked as if time had frozen within its walls. It really seemed as if Linda had just stepped out for lunch. There was even a coffee mug at the jumbled writing desk. 

The study was plastered with articles on the natural world and the impact of environmentalism. 

Amber stepped inside, instantly enveloped by a nostalgic smell—something earthy yet comforting, reminiscent of the forest floor after rain. The room was dim, save for the shafts of light penetrating through the dust-laden windows, illuminating scattered papers that lay strewn across the desk and floor.

“Wow,” she breathed, scanning the cluttered space. “She really threw herself into her work.”

Keith nodded, stepping in behind her. “It was her passion, but it also consumed her. She had a tendency to bury herself in it when things got tough.”

“I guess we had that in common,” Amber noted. 

Amber approached the desk where an old laptop rested alongside stacks of notebooks filled with hastily scrawled notes. She picked up one of the notebooks, flipping through pages filled with Linda’s spidery handwriting.

Amber glanced at some of the titles written on the various pages: The Sutter's Rest Water Crisis, Community Support or Corporate Sabotage?, Project Green Step...

“What was she working on prior to her... passing?” Amber asked. 

Keith furrowed his brow, shuffling through the papers as Amber flipped through the pages. "She was investigating some corruption within the town's water supply. There were rumors of contamination and...” he paused. “...Corporate interests trying to take over the plant."

Amber’s tail twitched with intrigue. “Corporate interests?”

“Exactly,” Keith replied, running a paw through his fur in agitation. “Linda discovered some documents that connected certain officials to a company wanting to privatize the water system. She had been gathering evidence and rallying community support to stop it.”

Amber’s heart raced. There was something about this that felt disturbingly familiar the kind of story she had pursued time and time again in her own career. “Did she ever connect those dots? Did she find anything concrete?” 

Keith pointed towards a stack of folders in a corner, leaning closer to Amber as if sharing a secret. “She kept everything neatly organized. She was convinced there was something big at play.” 

“I’m going to need snacks,” Amber declared, speaking to Keith as if he were a new intern at the newsroom. “Gummy worms preferably, and lots of caffeine.” 

“There’s a tea kettle in the kitchen,” Keith replied.

Amber twitched an ear. “No espresso maker?”

“No espresso maker,” Keith mirrored.

There was a lot of work to do. Amber may have been far from the city she knew so well, and in a strange new place, but if there was a story she would pursue it. 

“Maybe some of her favorite tea would get me in her mindset,” she said. She almost asked Keith to brew her some. Don’t get too comfortable, Amber, she said to herself.

“Want me to make it for you, Amber?” Keith asked, tilting his head - his tail curling around his leg.

Aside from being very coincidental, Amber considered the gesture to be very sweet. For the first time in a long time, Amber smiled. “No, thank you - a little bit of manual labor is good for me.”

Amber made her way back downstairs with a bewildered Keith trailing behind her. Amber rummaged through the cupboards until she found a box of jasmine tea. Quickly she found the tea kettle and quickly went about brewing herself a cup. 

Keith silently watched her.

“Never work a case without a beverage by your side.” Amber said to her wayward uncle, as if he were a new intern at the office. 

“So, you think there’s something to this?” the male meerkat asked.

“If there’s a possibility, I want to explore it.” 

The tea kettle let out a shrill whistle and Amber quickly poured herself a cup. 

“Want some?” she asked. 

“Er, no.” Keith replied. 

Amber picked up the teacup and blew across the top bringing the warm beverage to her muzzle when she was satisfied it was cool enough to drink without scalding herself. There was a lot of work to do. She may be far from the city she knew so well, and in a strange new place, but if there was a story she would pursue it.