by Leena Clover
“Give them a chance,” Star shrugged.
The car climbed uphill for a bit and came abreast some massive iron gates. The guard waved them through. He was a local and he knew Star very well.
Lush green lawns spread as far as the eye could see. The ocean pounded the shore in the distance. Jenny could see groups of people strolling along the beach. A game of volleyball was in progress. Some people had set up camp chairs and were sipping drinks from coolers. Others relaxed on blankets, eating out of straw baskets.
“This is so festive,” she exclaimed.
“You’re not going there,” Star said, inching her car along the driveway.
She pointed toward a sprawling mansion that loomed over them.
“That’s where you’re going, missy.”
Star handed her car over to a valet. He turned out to be another young kid from town. He whispered something in Star’s ear and she smiled.
“Is there anyone you don’t know, Star?” Jenny said, suddenly feeling like an outsider.
“I used to babysit him,” Star said lightly. “When you live here for forty some years, you can’t help knowing people.”
Jenny wondered if she would be alive in forty years. At 44, she figured the chances were slim to none. She fiddled with one of the charms on her necklace, flexed her shoulders and stood up straight.
“Let’s go,” she nodded, putting her game face on.
She was trying hard to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.
Ada Newbury stood in the cavernous foyer, greeting her guests. She barely spared a glance for Star.
“Hello Ada,” Star said, thrusting herself in her host’s face. “Have you met my niece?”
“Jenny King,” Jenny said cheerfully, offering her hand.
Ada ignored it and tipped her head.
“Petunia’s setting up in the back. I am sure she needs your help.”
“Jenny’s been baking her butt off for you,” Star scowled. “She’s here as your guest.”
A tall man with a receding hairline and grey hair at the temples burst in on them. He was well rounded across the middle. He wore a benevolent look unlike the woman he sidled next to. He put an arm around her shoulder and greeted Star with a smile.
“Well, well, it’s our very own artist,” he boomed. “When are you painting the view from our north tower, Star?”
“Whenever Ada gives me the keys to the tower,” Star laughed, grasping the man’s hand. “How are you, Julius?”
“Never been better,” Julius said with a smile. “And who’s this pretty young lady next to you?”
Introductions were made and the man turned out to be Ada’s husband. He was her complete opposite. Jenny realized he was the one with the actual bloodline Ada was so snobbish about. She wondered where Ada had come from. Was she even an islander?
“The marquee’s set up in the rose garden,” Julius Newbury told Star. “Ya’ll have a good time now.”
Star dragged Jenny along with her without sparing another glance for their hostess. Jenny ogled the Persian rugs and giant art lining the walls as she made her way behind her aunt. The Newburys were certainly not hurting for money. They burst onto a patio full of people. Long rows of rose bushes extended as far as the eye could see. Waves lapped against the shore in the distance. A big marquee was erected along one side, with tables for food and drinks. Satin covered tables and chairs were strewn around. Small groups of people hung about, eating fancy food off dainty plates.
Jenny spotted Petunia near the marquee and walked over.
“What can I help you with?” she asked.
Petunia turned around mid-sentence. She had been busy directing the staff. Her frown turned into a smile.
“The food’s flying off the trays, Jenny!” she exclaimed. “People are full of praise. They can’t wait to meet you.”
Jenny tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to hide a blush.
“It’s nothing, really. Can I help hand stuff out?”
“You’ll do nothing of that sort,” Petunia huffed. “We’ve hired plenty of staff for that. You just mingle and make friends. I’ll take you around myself in a minute.”
Star walked into them, eating a large slice of cheesecake. She closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure.
“You have outdone yourself, Jenny. This is so good!”
“So is the crab dip,” Petunia told her. “And the hot and sweet chicken wings and the coconut crusted shrimp.”
“Mmmmm…” Star mumbled. “You know I have a big sweet tooth. I went for the desserts first.”
“Grab a plate and start eating,” Petunia ordered Jenny. “You’ve been rushed off your feet since 6 AM.”
“I am sort of hungry,” Jenny admitted.
She started filling a plate with a little of everything. Unlike her aunt, she went for the savories first.
“Jenny!” a voice squealed in her ear and she turned around to hug Heather Morse. “This food is delicious. Grandma can’t stop bragging about you.”
The brown haired six foot man next to Heather smiled indulgently.
“You’re famous, Jenny,” he said mildly.
Betty Sue Morse joined the group, looking important. Her petite five foot frame belied her larger than life personality. She looked odd without the ever present knitting in her hand.
“Jenny,” she roared, holding her arms wide.
Betty Sue and some of the islanders spoke in a slightly different accent. It was a way of telling the old islanders apart from the newcomers.
Jenny set her plate aside and hugged the delicate seventy five year old woman. Betty Sue was the uncrowned monarch of the island and she didn’t let anyone forget that.
“This is the best party Ada has thrown in years. She owes you one.”
“So you liked the food, Miss Morse?” Jenny mumbled.
“Like it? People can’t stop licking their fingers. Eddie Cotton wants to sell your wings at the Rusty Anchor. I told him to get in line.”
“Let the girl eat, Betty Sue,” Star grumbled. “She’s wilting as you speak.”
Star huddled close to Petunia and Betty Sue and the three older women put their heads together.
“What are they up to now?” Jenny asked Heather, chewing delicately on a chicken wing.
It could use a little more pepper, she noted to herself.
“I miss Molly,” Heather said. “I told Chris to bring her along.”
“Couldn’t she drive over herself?” Chris asked.
She flung an accusatory glance at the quiet man.
“Have you forgotten island politics, Chris? No way Ada Newbury is going to invite a refugee into her home.”
“I didn’t know people still thought that way,” Chris admitted. “It seems silly.”
“You’ve been away too long,” Heather told him. “Nothing is more important to these people than hierarchy.”
“I thought Molly’s folks have been in Pelican Cove since the very beginning?” Jenny asked with interest.
“That’s right,” Heather nodded. “But Pelican Cove doesn’t exist as far as these old timers are concerned. They are still living on Morse Isle.”
“Your grandma isn’t like that,” Jenny mused. “Why is she different?”
“Heather brought her around,” Chris beamed. “You can thank her for that.”
Heather’s cheeks turned pink and she looked away.
A few groups of people had started walking toward the beach. Although part of the same coastline, this beach was some distance away from the other picnickers. A makeshift barrier had been put up cordoning off this section, lest any of the commoners strayed into the elite area.
“Shall we walk along the beach?” Chris asked the ladies.
“Not until I have a piece of Jenny’s cheesecake first,” Heather said.
She opened her mouth wide and took a big bite of the sinful dessert. It almost stuck in her throat as a piercing scream sounded far away. Heather coughed and sputtered as her food went down th
e wrong way.
“What was that?” Jenny asked as she patted Heather on the back.
“You girls stay here,” Chris ordered. “I’ll go have a look.”
The old biddies had also heard the scream. They surrounded Jenny and Heather, peppering them with questions.
“Hold on, Grandma,” Heather gasped, finally catching her breath. “Chris will be back soon.”
Chris came back five minutes later, looking grim. His face was white with shock.
“Bad news!” he declared, raising his hand to ward off their questions. “There’s a dead body on the beach. Eddie’s grandson almost walked into it.”
He gulped as the older ladies bombarded him with questions.
“I don’t know anything else. We’ll just to have to wait until someone tells us.”
“Look,” Betty Sue thundered. “There’s Adam. I bet he’ll know more than you.”
Jenny whipped her head around in the direction of Betty Sue’s finger. A man was limping slowly toward the patio. He was taller than Chris and his brown hair was peppered with gray. He held up a hand and let out a piercing whistle.
“It’s Adam Hopkins,” Heather whispered to Jenny.
Jenny felt a frisson of anticipation as she gazed at the attractive man. She had poured coffee for him plenty of times. She hardly recognized him today, dressed as he was in a fancy suit. Jenny was used to seeing him in his uniform.
People had gathered around Adam. They waited for him to speak, looking around nervously. The news of the dead man had already spread like wildfire through the small crowd. Some people thought it was a prank.
“I have some sad news,” Adam began. “We just found the body of a man on the beach. We don’t know who he is yet. My folks need to come in and examine the area.”
He looked around at the anxious faces around him.
“I am afraid I can’t allow anyone to leave yet. We’ll have to take down your names and contact information. We will also need to get a brief statement from all of you.”
A buzz passed through the crowd as people started grumbling. The party mood had vanished in an instant.
“You know where I live, Adam,” Eddie Cotton was arguing with the man. “I’ve got to go back and open the Rusty Anchor for business.”
“I’m just following procedure, Eddie,” the man told him. “You’ll have to wait here until we get your statement.”
“Can he do that?” Jenny asked Heather.
“Of course he can. Have you forgotten Adam’s the Sheriff of Pelican Cove?”
Chapter 3
Jenny stifled a yawn as she poured coffee for her customers the next day. The Boardwalk Café was bursting at the seams. Most of the population of Pelican Cove had turned up for breakfast bright and early, even those who hardly ever came to the café.
“You’re going to be very busy today,” Star had remarked that morning as Jenny waved goodbye to her. “The vultures will come sniffing.”
Petunia looked harried as she arranged a fresh batch of muffins in the display case.
“Can you check the oven please, Jenny? The next batch should be ready soon.”
“I’ve never seen this place so busy,” Jenny remarked as she walked into the kitchen.
“That’s because you haven’t been here in the summer,” Petunia said with a laugh. “You have it easy now, girl. Wait till the tourist season begins.”
“You can count on me, Petunia,” Jenny said earnestly, putting a hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“We will hire more help then,” Petunia shrugged. “Kids will be out of school and plenty of them will be lining up for a summer job. I would rather use your skills in the kitchen. That’s where you make the magic.”
Jenny smiled shyly.
“I’ve never cooked for strangers before, other than the guests my husband brought home.”
“Oh honey! That murder upstaged you. Your food would’ve been the only thing people talked about today if not for that body on the beach.”
“Who do you think it is?” Jenny asked curiously, pulling on some mitts before sliding her hand into the hot oven.
She pulled out a pan full of banana walnut muffins and breathed in the fresh baked aroma.
“These smell yummy,” she sighed.
Warm cinnamon and vanilla scented the air around her.
“You need to get off your feet for a few minutes,” Petunia clucked. “Why don’t you take one of these warm muffins and relax on the deck out back? I’ll get you some fresh coffee. I just started a pot.”
“What about all the guests?” Jenny protested.
She had the enthusiasm of a new worker and was eager to please.
“They will be fine,” Petunia assured her.
Jenny placed a warm muffin on a small plate. Then she scooped up a generous dollop of butter and plopped it on top of the muffin. She carried the plate out to the deck at the back of the café. The section was closed for customers this time of the year. She put her feet up on a chair and bit into her sweet treat. Petunia came along with a tray and two coffee mugs.
“What did you gather from the customers?” she asked Jenny, leaning forward.
Jenny shrugged. She had picked up some gossip even though she hadn’t been listening for it.
“No one really knows who that man is. The consensus is that he must be from out of town.”
“Of course he is,” Petunia grunted, taking a deep sip of her coffee. “Had anyone seen him before the party?”
“Not as far as I know,” Jenny said lamely.
She didn’t feel comfortable gossiping about a dead man.
“Shouldn’t I go out and check on the customers?”
Petunia gave a brief nod.
“Keep an ear out, Jenny. You never know what you might pick up.”
A tall, scrawny brown haired woman with thick Coke-bottle eyeglasses rushed into the café, looking over her shoulder.
“Jenny,” she called out before she spotted her at the counter. “Oh, you are right here. Got a minute?”
“Sure, Molly. What’s up?”
Jenny’s face lit up when she saw the harried young woman. Molly was one of the new friends she had made in town.
Molly scurried around the counter and grabbed Jenny by the arm. She almost dragged her into the kitchen.
“It’s your aunt. We need to talk.”
“Aunt Becca? What’s wrong with her?” Jenny asked as her heart skipped a beat.
Star was quite whimsical in her ways. Jenny had found her unpredictable at best. She wondered what new scrape her aunt had got into now.
“I was coming out of the bank, okay?” Molly said in a rush. “The sheriff’s car swept past me. I saw your aunt in it.”
“Are you sure it was her?” Jenny asked with a smile.
Molly’s bad vision was a joke among the friends. She was always peering at people through her glasses, blaming a wrong prescription.
“Your aunt is kind of distinct,” Molly huffed. “It was her alright, wearing something colorful.”
Jenny thought back to that morning. Star had been wearing yet another tie dyed ensemble.
“What was she doing with the sheriff?” Jenny asked dumbly.
Molly widened her eyes and looked over her shoulder again. She bent down from her six foot high perch and whispered loudly in Jenny’s ear.
“I think she was arrested.”
“What?” Jenny roared. “Are you out of your mind, Molly?”
“What’s all the fuss about, girls?” Petunia asked, coming in with the coffee tray. “Everything alright?”
Jenny was too shocked to answer.
“Star was arrested,” Molly declared. “I just saw her in the back of the sheriff’s car.”
“That’s nonsense, Molly,” Petunia dismissed. “You must be mistaken. Are you sure you had your glasses on right?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my vision,” Molly cried out in frustration. “Why don’t you
try calling home, Jenny? See if your aunt answers.”
Jenny had been staying with her aunt since she came to Pelican Cove. She didn’t have her own place yet.
“You know she’s never at home this time of the day,” Jenny argued. “She probably set up her canvas on the beach somewhere.”
Jenny held up her hand as Molly opened her mouth again.
“No. She does not have a cell phone. Doesn’t need one, she says.”
There was a scurry of footsteps and Betty Sue Morse bustled in, her hands clutching her knitting needles. A ball of bright pink yarn was clutched in her armpit. Her hands worked in tandem and the needles clacked in a rhythm of their own as she tried to catch her breath. Her bosom heaved with the effort.
Heather was at her heels, holding her grandma’s black poodle Tootsie in her arms.
“You know you can’t bring Tootsie here, Heather,” Petunia warned.
“I know, I know. I wanted to make sure Grandma was okay and Toots followed behind. That’s why I’m holding her in my arms. I won’t let her down, I promise.”
Petunia was mollified. She turned to Betty Sue.
“What’s got your panties in a wad, Betty Sue?”
Betty Sue looked at Jenny apologetically.
“Star’s been arrested. I just saw her going in to the station with the sheriff.”
“Are you sure?” Jenny burst out.
Betty Sue puffed up in indignation. No one dared doubt her word in Pelican Cove. She forgot Jenny wasn’t aware of her reputation.
Molly stepped in triumphantly.
“Didn’t I tell you? Think before you go doubting my eyesight again.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute…” Jenny held up a hand.
“So you people saw Star talking to the sheriff. That’s it. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Why else would she go to the police station?” Heather asked. “Adam doesn’t make small talk.”
“You better go, dear,” Petunia said, twisting her fingers. “Star might need you to bail her out.”
“But I can’t abandon you,” Jenny protested. “It’s our busiest day since I started working here.”
