Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Series Box Set 1

by Leena Clover

  “Don’t take her inside, please,” Petunia pleaded. “Just make sure she stays on the deck.”

  “Don’t worry, Petunia,” Heather assured her. “I’ll tie her to this post. She can play in the sand.”

  Heather handed over an envelope to Betty Sue.

  “What does it say, Betty Sue?” Star pressed. “Read it quickly.”

  Betty Sue peered at the paper in her hand and her face fell.

  “Job cuts are coming alright,” she told them. “The board has voted to cull all the jobs created in the last five years.”

  “That affects Molly!” Jenny gasped. “Poor thing. She really wants to stay in Pelican Cove.”

  “We need to do something about this, Betty Sue,” Star said urgently.

  “I can’t be directly involved, but I’m all for it. What do you have in mind?”

  “We need to raise money for the library, of course,” Jenny said. “We need to rally the local businesses and ask them to pitch in.”

  “Sounds like a drop in the ocean,” Betty Sue grumbled. “There is a huge deficit. I don’t know how we are ever going to fill it.”

  “Could you be a bit more optimistic?” Star snapped. “Jenny will think of something.”

  “You can have a bake sale,” Heather said eagerly. “People love your food.”

  “I don’t think a bake sale is going to cut it, Heather,” Jenny said thoughtfully. “We need a big fundraiser, something on a grand scale.”

  “This is not the city,” Petunia observed. “People don’t have deep pockets.”

  “We just need to gather more people then,” Jenny said resolutely.

  “You need to set up a committee,” Star said. “That’s the first thing we do here when we have a problem.”

  “Can you make a few posters?” Jenny asked her aunt. “Ask for volunteers for the committee. I’ll post them around at a few local places.”

  Star rummaged in a bag that lay by her feet. She pulled out a sketch pad and a few colored pens.

  “I’ll get right to it,” she said. “Keep talking.”

  “Heather, why don’t you run a search for library fund raising ideas on that phone of yours?”

  “I’m chatting with a new guy,” Heather pouted. “I need to fix a date for the weekend.”

  “Haven’t you any shame?” Betty Sue clucked. “This is the fourth first date you are going on this month. Why don’t you ever go on a second date?”

  “None of them has been worth a second date,” Heather sulked.

  “Of course they haven’t,” Betty Sue cried. “You are never going to find someone as good as Chris.”

  “Not that again!” Heather moaned. “Chris understands why I’m doing this. He has agreed to wait for me.”

  “You do know Chris and Molly are seeing each other?” Jenny asked incredulously.

  “Oh, that!” Heather dismissed. “They are just hanging out.”

  “Watch out, Heather. You might have to repent at leisure.”

  “Stop talking like my grandma, Jenny!” Heather complained.

  “Molly’s a wonderful girl,” Betty Sue observed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris fell in love with her.”

  “Chris has loved only one girl since he was in third grade,” Heather boasted. “That’s me!”

  “You are not being very nice, Heather,” Petunia said softly. “Your head has turned ever since you started that online dating.”

  Petunia rarely said much. Everyone was taken aback by her straight talk. Heather huffed and went on tapping the keys on her phone.

  “Here you go!” Star said with a flourish. “Do you like any of these?”

  “Already?” Jenny exclaimed in delight.

  Star had produced three different posters, each of them asking for volunteers for the library committee.

  “’Save our Library’ … I like that.” Betty Sue bobbed her head.

  They haggled over their choice and finally picked one.

  “Let’s get this photocopied,” Jenny said, getting up. “Coming, Heather?”

  “What about the lunch rush?” Star asked. “I can stay back and help Petunia.”

  “Soup’s already on,” Jenny assured her. “It’s creamy chicken with peas. We are making smoked turkey and pesto sandwiches today. The pesto’s already made.”

  “We can take care of the rest,” Petunia said. “You go get those copies.”

  “I’ll be back soon,” Jenny promised. “I can put these up later this afternoon.”

  Jenny walked to the Rusty Anchor after the café closed. It was the local watering hole. Everyone in Pelican Cove eventually ended up there for a pint or a game of pool.

  “Hey Jenny!” Eddie Cotton, the proprietor and bartender, greeted her.

  “Can you put these up for me?” Jenny asked.

  Eddie looked at the poster and frowned.

  “What’s wrong with our library?”

  Jenny spotted Chris and Molly at a table. She walked over and showed Molly the poster.

  “We are going to take care of this, Molly. You won’t be losing your job anytime soon.”

  Molly seemed to cheer up a bit.

  “What’s the latest on Mrs. Bones?” Chris asked with a smile.

  “Nothing much,” Jenny told him. “None of the local women were reported missing.”

  “You know, Pelican Cove is pretty isolated. We sometimes forget it’s an island.”

  “What do you mean, Chris?”

  “What if someone dumped her here? We are just a dot on the map. The perfect place to hide something, or someone.”

  “You have given me something to think about,” Jenny said.

  Eddie brought over a pint and Jenny took a big gulp, her thoughts racing with numerous possibilities.

  Chapter 6

  The library was crowded when Jenny entered. News of the library’s troubles had spread like wildfire. Someone started a rumor that the library was closing down. It seemed like everyone had turned up to check out as many books as they could. Bossy mothers pushed kids into line, clutching piles of books. Jenny tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for her turn.

  She had finally squeezed time out to do some research. It had been another busy day at the café. She had fried dozens of donuts, baked several trays of muffins and assembled sandwiches until they ran out of all the food. Her feet ached from running around all day. She ignored her fatigue and settled into a small cubicle.

  Widening her search to surrounding areas gave Jenny a lot of different results. Her eyes were heavy with sleep but she plodded on, starting at the year 2000 and moving backwards. She finally hit pay dirt. Jenny eagerly noted her findings in a small notebook. Now she needed to tackle Adam.

  Adam Hopkins sat with his bum leg propped up on a chair.

  “I’m very busy today, Jenny. I don’t have time for small talk.”

  “This could be important,” Jenny bristled. “I want information about some missing women.”

  “Do you think the police department is here to dance to your tune?” Adam barked. “Go away.”

  “Why don’t you pull these files for me?” Jenny asked, writing down some names on a piece of paper.

  “I’m doing no such thing,” Adam snapped. “You can forget about it.”

  “What about Mrs. Bones?” Jenny asked, her hands on her hips. “Have you found anything new about her?”

  “Your bag of bones is not a priority,” Adam drawled. “Other cases have a higher preference.”

  “What about my house?” Jenny demanded. “If you’re not really investigating, why don’t you release it to me?”

  “We’ll be out of there in a day or two,” Adam nodded. “You can move in then if you still want to.”

  “Of course I want to. It’s my home.”

  “It’s not your home yet, Jenny,” Adam said softly. “You haven’t really lived there yet. Maybe you should reconsider.”

  “What are you saying, Adam?” Jenny asked him.

  “Why don
’t you talk to Chris? You know he’s a part-time realtor, right? Put it on the market. You might get a good price.”

  Jenny’s face took on a pinched expression as she listened to Adam.

  “I’m not selling Seaview. I don’t understand why you should even suggest such a thing.”

  Adam leaned back in his chair and folded his hands.

  “Aren’t you even a bit flustered by this skeleton? Any other woman in your position would have wanted to wash her hands off the whole thing.”

  “I’m not any woman, Sheriff,” Jenny said stiffly. “I’m not going to worry about something that happened decades ago.”

  “You’re one of a kind, Jenny King,” Adam agreed.

  His eyes glinted with admiration as he stared back at Jenny.

  “Pelican Cove is my new home, and so is Seaview,” Jenny emphasized. “I plan to grow old there. Anyone who wants to be my friend will have to be fine with my living there.”

  Jenny turned around in a huff and stomped out.

  The Magnolias were all dressed warmly. It was an unusually cold fall day. Salty winds whipped across the deck of the Boardwalk Café, overturning salt shakers and displacing paper napkins. But none of the assembled women wanted to give up their priced view and go inside.

  Betty Sue gave a shudder as she pulled off an intricate stitch. She clutched a ball of blue wool in her armpit. Heather was glued to her phone. Molly sat staring in the distance, lost in thought. Star and Petunia were talking about pumpkins.

  “How was your trip to the library, Jenny?” Betty Sue asked. “Find anything new?”

  Jenny looked pleased with herself.

  “I did. Nothing much happened between 1965 and 1990. But three women went missing between 1990 and 2000. I have decided to focus on them for now.”

  “How will you get more information on them?” Molly asked.

  “I exhausted everything I could learn from the library,” Jenny told them. “I’m guessing the newspaper archives won’t have much more to offer.”

  “What about old police records?” Molly asked.

  Jenny rolled her eyes in disgust.

  “That sourpuss Adam refused to help me. So I guess I’m on my own.”

  “We are here to help you,” Star said. “Why don’t you run the names by us? One of us might know something about these girls.”

  “I was going to do that anyway,” Jenny nodded.

  She pulled out a small notebook and began flipping its pages. A loud voice interrupted them and they stared at each other in dismay.

  “Yooohoooo …”

  A short, plump woman panted up the café stairs, followed by a well dressed man.

  “Hello ladies!” Barb Norton sang out. “I knew I would find you all here.”

  Barb Norton was the local do-gooder. She volunteered for every town festival and local event and always wanted to take charge.

  “I saw those flyers you posted all over town, Star,” she began. “Why didn’t you just pick up the phone and call me?”

  “I thought you must be busy working for the harvest festival,” Star mumbled.

  “Oh, you are right, dear. The harvest festival is taking up a lot of my time at the moment. But the library!”

  She took a deep breath as she said that.

  “The library is one of our greatest assets. We can’t let it close down.”

  “It’s not closing down yet, Barb,” Betty Sue thundered. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  “Job cuts are always the first sign,” Barb continued. “What’s next, eh? I just couldn’t take it.”

  “What brings you here, Barb?” Petunia asked. “Have you tried Jenny’s strawberry glazed donuts yet? They are the latest craze.”

  “Oh, I can’t think of food at a time like this,” Barb clucked. “I’m here to offer myself for the library committee.”

  “Thanks Barb,” Jenny said earnestly.

  She knew the older Magnolias were always a bit brusque with Barb Norton. But the woman meant well. And she had an endless store of energy she often channelized in altruistic tasks.

  “I’ll put you down as a volunteer.”

  Barb patted Jenny on the arm and beamed at her.

  “That’s not going to be enough. The town needs a strong leader to get through this crisis.”

  “And that’s you?” Star snorted.

  Barb ignored her and kept talking to Jenny.

  “I’m offering my services as chairperson of the Save our Library committee. You don’t need to look any further.”

  “You know every committee votes for the chairperson together,” Betty Sue objected. “We haven’t even had our first meeting yet.”

  “That’s just a formality,” Barb dismissed. “I’m the person most equipped to lead this effort.”

  “Aren’t you always?” Star muttered.

  The man who accompanied Barb Norton had been silent all this time. He cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly.

  “I haven’t forgotten you,” she told him. “Like any strong leader, I’ve taken the initiative and sought expert help.”

  “Who’s your friend, Barb?” Heather asked, looking up from her phone.

  She was eyeing the tall, blue eyed stranger with interest. His brown hair was combed neatly and his khakis and button down shirt were neatly pressed. Jenny decided he was a salesman of some kind.

  Heather spotted the ring on the man’s finger and her mouth fell in disappointment.

  “Ladies, this is Dale. He lives two towns over.”

  They greeted the man called Dale, waiting for Barb to list his virtues.

  “Dale was dubbed Library Savior by his town newspaper,” Barb beamed. “He single handedly led a massive fund raising effort to raise thousands of dollars for their library.”

  Molly looked at the man with interest.

  “Are you a librarian?” she asked.

  “Oh no,” Dale said. “I work at a local car dealership. I just love books. Always have. I believe a library is the heart and soul of any community. It provides the right foundation for raising smart, well informed kids. It educates society and keeps it from stagnating.”

  “You got that part right,” Betty Sue said grudgingly. “What is it you did for raising all that money?”

  “Dale has plenty of ideas,” Barb butted in. “He’s agreed to sit in on our meetings so we can discuss them. When is the first meeting, Jenny?”

  “It’s up to you, Barb,” Jenny said. She grabbed the opportunity to get something off her plate. “You have more experience about these things.”

  “Don’t worry,” Barb consoled her. “You’ll be a pro at this too, once you have chaired a few committees.”

  “Do you have any specific ideas for the fund raiser?” Molly asked Dale.

  “I do,” Dale told her. “But I prefer to give everyone a chance. Let’s see what the people in your town come up with first.”

  “Isn’t that idiotic?” Molly burst out after Barb and Dale left. “If he has some suggestions, why not come out with them right now? What’s the point in wasting time?”

  “He’s so full of himself,” Heather complained.

  She had lost all interest in Dale after spotting his wedding ring.

  “Calm down, Molly,” Jenny soothed. “He’s just milking the situation. Let him. I don’t mind giving him credit if he has concrete ideas.”

  “Forget about Barb for a moment,” Heather said. “What are you going to do about those missing women?”

  “I’m not sure, Heather. I’m open to ideas.”

  “Start with the phone book,” Star advised. “It’s an old fashioned way of finding someone but it still works.”

  “That’s so quaint,” Heather scoffed. “I can look them up online right now.”

  “Do you expect to find their social profiles?” Molly asked Heather. “They are missing, remember?”

  “You both have a point,” Jenny told them. “I need to determine if they are still missing. I think I a
m going to track down their families. Go and talk to them.”

  “I’m up for a road trip any time,” Heather whooped. “Now I have to get going. I have a lunch date in Cape Charles.”

  “Who are you meeting this time?” Jenny asked.

  “A gorgeous stud muffin,” Heather crowed. “Here. I’ll show you his picture.”

  “Character is more important than looks,” Betty Sue preached. “You should know that by now.”

  “I’d rather have both,” Heather said smugly.

  She picked up her fancy new handbag and skipped down the café steps.

  “Did she have her bag with her all this time?” Betty Sue asked the ladies, looking bewildered. “Who’s going to take Tootsie for her walk?”

  “I’ll do it, Betty Sue,” Molly offered.

  “No. You get back to your desk. Don’t give anyone a chance to point fingers.”

  “What’s the use? I’m losing my job anyway.”

  “Don’t give up yet, Molly,” Star said. “Barb Norton’s taken up your cause. She’s sure to raise a storm and get you those donations.”

  Molly looked surprised.

  “We might give her a hard time, Molly,” Petunia spoke up. “But Barb gets the job done.”

  Jenny added her two cents.

  “She won us that Prettiest Town award, didn’t she? Save our Library is in good hands.”

  Jenny pushed her notebook toward Betty Sue. She didn’t want to waste time looking in phone books if there was a quicker way to get that information.

  Betty Sue picked up the notebook confidently. “I know the old Eastern Shore families. Some of them have been here for generations. James Morse, my ancestor, was known to be a very social man. He invited sailors like him from neighboring towns for an annual barbecue.”

  “So?” Jenny asked hopefully.

  Betty Sue peered at the names and shook her head.

  “None of these sound familiar.”

  “I have a stack of old phonebooks,” Star told her. “I’ll dig them out for you.”

  “You think one of these women is Mrs. Bones?” Molly asked.

  “I hope not, Molly,” Jenny sighed. “I hope they were all found long ago and are living happy, healthy lives with their families.”

  “What are the odds of that?” Molly asked.

  None of the women had an answer to that question.