by Eve Calder
“Does it involve sunblock, stomach medicine, aspirin, or earplugs?” Kate asked.
“Close. A small puppy and your upstairs room. Peter and mi mami and the kids are on their way, and they’re bringing George. We don’t want to leave him home alone. Especially when the fireworks start. But it’s way too loco for the little guy out there with the grills and the smoke and the people. Do you mind if we settle him upstairs where it’s quiet? Peter’s bringing the little doggie bed. And Mr. George has been running around all day, so I’m hoping he’s going to be sleepy.”
“Of course you can. I just heard about the fireworks. Any idea how Oliver will react?”
Maxi shook her glossy bob. “He wasn’t here for the last Pirate Festival. So this is his first one, too. We could ask Dr. Jack.”
“That’s a great idea,” Kate said. “Do you have his phone number?”
“No need, corizon,” Maxi said, grinning. “Just like everyone else in Coral Cay, he’s out in the backyard. He just arrived.”
* * *
“I know you probably get this all the time, but could I trouble you for a little professional advice? If it makes it more palatable, I can pay you in bread or cookies.”
Jack Scanlon smiled warmly, and Kate could feel herself doing the same.
“I’ve been paid in everything from skiing lessons to fresh goat cheese,” he said. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m always available for advice. That’s why I became a vet.”
“Goat cheese?”
“Little farm outside of Denver. Beautiful place. Bruce, their border collie, needed stitches. Got into it protecting the flock from some mountain cat. Some of the best cheese I’ve ever tasted.”
“Later tonight, the island puts on a fireworks display to kick off the festival,” Kate said. “Oliver’s never been around fireworks. At least, not that I know of. And George—Maxi’s new puppy—he’ll be here, too. Anything special we should do?”
“You’re in good company,” Jack admitted, glancing around the yard, as he swirled the ice cubes in his glass. “I’ve been getting that question all day. And from what I gather, the pros they have doing this will actually be setting them off from the mainland. Which should help a bit, as far as the noise. I’d keep an eye on the little guys. If they start acting nervous or afraid, take them inside, get them settled in familiar surroundings. With a favorite blanket or toy. Inside closets or bathrooms are good spots—that minimizes the noise. Just be sure to puppy-proof the place first. Get rid of the toilet paper, cleaning products—things they can get into. Oh, and anything with electrical cords. Dogs are like humans—when they get nervous, they like to chew. Then you should be good to go. And if you have any problems, say the word. Barring any emergencies, I should be around. Except for the crowds and the traffic, I have to say, I’m kind of enjoying this whole pirate thing.”
* * *
“So where’s your fiancé tonight?” Mitzy Allen asked, as she balanced a plate loaded down with a hamburger and roasted potatoes in one hand and a glass of iced tea in the other. “Did you guys find a house you like yet?”
“He’s not my fiancé anymore,” Kate explained patiently. “He’s just in town for the Gentleman George project. And I already have a home. I live over the bakeshop.”
Mitzy winked conspiratorially. “I get it. But don’t tell Sam. I don’t know how he’d feel about a couple of newlyweds living over the store.” And with that, she waltzed across the yard and pulled up a chair next to Annie Kim.
Maxi appeared at Kate’s side wearing a barbecue apron and brandishing a set of stainless-steel tongs. “You OK, corizon? You got a funny look on your face.”
“I’ve been talking to Mitzy Allen…”
“That would do it,” Maxi said. “Hey, good news. Mi amor is here, and he’s grilling up hot dogs. And mi mami brought some of her mango coleslaw. Salty and sweet. You wanna hear something weird, though?”
“Does it involve rumors that Evan and I are secretly married and living over the shop?” Kate asked, shaking her head in wonder.
“It involves Harper Duval,” the florist said. “He dropped off a couple of bags of goodies this afternoon, while Sam was here. Stuff for the cookout. And he said he’d be here tonight. But he hasn’t shown.”
“Maybe the store is swamped. That tourist crowd was pretty intense today.”
“Nope. Rosie passed by his store on the way here. It’s dark. Closed and locked.”
“He’s smoking again, I know that,” Kate said. “So he’s definitely stressed.”
“So’s mi amor,” Maxi admitted. “But instead of smoking, he cleaned out the garage. Totally organized the whole thing.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Kate asked cautiously.
“It’s a wonderful thing,” Maxi said, sighing. “Realmente fabuloso. And I’ve only been begging him to do it for a whole year. So why am I so freaked out?”
Chapter 63
As the moon rose into the sky, the lanterns and fairy lights seemed to take on a magical glow. The denizens of Coral Cay filed in and out of the yard, but the thrum of conversation, punctuated by laughter, was constant.
“Hey there, Katie, how’s it going?”
Kate looked up to see Evan barreling toward her across the yard. Just as suddenly, Oliver was at her side.
“It’s OK,” she crooned softly to the pup. “Just a minor annoyance. Like sand fleas.”
To Evan she said, “We’re doing great, thanks. Nearly sold out of everything. Are you enjoying the Pirate Festival?”
He was dressed casually. A spotless white golf shirt and a pair of immaculate jeans. His sunglasses were pushed casually on top of his head. “You know, I really am,” he said, amping up the grin. “Did you know they’re going to have a boat parade later this week? The Pirate Flotilla. Some of the vessels are really modeled on the old ships. You know, like they used to sail back in the day. But they invite anyone with a boat to join in. And a lot of us will be flying the Jolly Roger, just for the occasion. I was wondering if you might want to join me? We could invite some of our new friends. Break out the good French champagne. I thought they might enjoy it. And it would be fun. You know, in the spirit of old Gentleman George.”
“Sorry, but I’m going to be busy,” she said breezily, as she passed him heading for the kitchen.
“Doing what?” he called after her.
“Anything but that,” she sang out without turning.
As she ducked into the kitchen, she spotted Maxi and Peter in the yard. Whatever was going on at home or with Peter, outwardly the family appeared content.
Esperanza held Elena, who in turn cradled George. Grandmother and granddaughter whispered back and forth. Sharing secrets.
Peter took a bite of something from Maxi’s plate, and they both laughed.
When Kate reappeared from the kitchen with a basket of warm challah rolls, she found Manny standing by the back gate. “You OK with one more? Three more, if you count John Quincy and his appetite.”
Kate glanced down, and the beagle looked up hopefully. She bent and gave him a friendly scratch behind one ear. He licked her hand politely.
“I was actually supposed to meet your ex,” Manny said quietly. “He wanted to talk business. Said he’d be here tonight. You seen him?”
“I know he’s somewhere,” she said. “Beyond that…”
“Got it,” Manny said knowingly. “So do I need to buy a ticket or something?”
“Nope, just come on in,” Kate said happily. “The more the merrier. And, for what it’s worth, this will be going on every night this week. You and John Quincy can come by anytime. It’s called ‘Pirate Night Dinners.’ Apparently, it’s a festival tradition. And this first night’s a barbecue. So you-know-who might be able to snag himself a nice juicy steak.”
John Quincy sniffed the air pointedly and licked his chops.
“Wouldn’t mind a little of that my own self.”
“Pull up a chair. You’re just in time for the firewor
ks. And if the little one gets skittish, say the word. You can take him upstairs.”
“He’s fine around loud noises,” Manny said. “That was part of his police dog training. As long as he has some good chow in front of him, he’ll be just fine.”
As Manny made his way toward one of the grilling stations, Kate spotted Claire and Gabe coming toward the fence and waved. “How are the Treasure Island Tours?”
“Wonderful,” Claire answered enthusiastically. “And our guests are loving them. But this one was MIA,” she said, pointing a thumb at her boyfriend.
“I spent the day answering auto emergencies,” Gabe said with a wry smile. “A few overheated engines. A dead battery. One poor fool didn’t seem to realize that ‘E’ on the gas gauge meant ‘empty.’ And another who got stranded trying to drive his pickup truck onto the beach.”
“No,” Kate said. “What did you do?”
The mechanic shook his head. “Kyle Hardy called me. The guy was stuck in the sand but good. Worse than that backhoe next door. Took me forever to get him out. Driving on the beach is a kind of jerk move. I hate to say it, but I was glad Kyle Hardy gave him a ticket.”
“Wait, what?” Kate asked.
“I still can’t fathom why it’s actually allowed in some parts of the state,” Claire fumed. “It’s barbaric.”
“At least it’s not legal on Coral Cay,” the mechanic said. “And we’ve got the giant signs everywhere to prove it. Kyle took his photo in front of one of them. Actually asked the man to smile. Then he wrote out the ticket. Don’t think the driver will be contesting that one.”
“What did you mean about a backhoe?” Kate said, frantically trying to rewind the conversation.
“Few months back,” Gabe said, shaking his head. “One of the hardest jobs I’ve ever had. Just next door. Lawn crew was laying sod. They brought in a backhoe to pull out some old stumps and tree roots. Used to leave it on the property every night. Too much work to load it on and off the truck every day. And frankly, who’s going to steal a backhoe? But sure enough, one morning they came in and someone had moved the thing. Crew chief believed it was probably teenagers. But in the process of playing with it, they damaged it. One of the treads had slipped off. And it took four of us working in tandem for two solid hours to get it back on. The bard said ‘No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en.’ And I truly love what I do. But not that day,” the mechanic added mournfully.
“Wait a minute,” Kate said suddenly. “They parked a backhoe on the site and just left it there? Did they lock it up or anything?”
“Chain with a flimsy little padlock. Like you’d put on a high school locker. But the lock was long gone when they showed up for work that morning. Luckily, the keys were still there. They kept them under the seat. Can you believe that? Big piece of expensive equipment, and they stick the keys under the seat. I wouldn’t do that with a golf cart.”
Suddenly, Kate understood exactly why Alvin had been buried on Maxi’s property. Not only were the florist and Sam out of town. But with a backhoe, digging a grave would be a piece of cake.
She looked over at the happy Más-Buchanan family, giggling and enjoying the celebration.
Not tonight, she decided. Alvin had kept his secret for months. He could keep it for a little while longer.
A sudden bang, followed by a pop got everyone’s attention. Almost everyone looked up, as an orange and yellow explosion lit up the sky.
“Gabe, look, it’s started,” Claire said, laying a protective hand on his arm.
“Nice one!” he said appreciatively. “Let’s go grab a seat.”
But Kate’s attention was elsewhere. Under the glow of the lanterns, she could see Oliver stretched out lazily in the grass between Michael and Javie.
Nearby, drowsy George dozed blissfully in Elena’s lap. And, just as Manny predicted, John Quincy, busy working on a steak, didn’t seem to mind the commotion.
That’s when Kate noticed that Jack Scanlon was doing the same thing she was. Checking on the animals. She smiled and looked away quickly—up into the night sky.
Chapter 64
Over the next week, the crowds continued to flood into Coral Cay to enjoy the festival. Publicly, the downtown business owners rejoiced, welcoming every last visitor. Privately, many of them just wanted life in Coral Cay to return to normal.
Parking spots were at a premium. And one enterprising group of college students was cashing in by running a shuttle service—using an abandoned mall in Hibiscus Springs and a couple of rental vans.
But interest in the backyard of the flower shop had finally waned. While there had been several more attempts—mostly on one very busy festival night—the trespassers were caught each time and heavily fined. And Manny had been right. That seemed to do the trick.
“Too bad we can’t just say we found him, and send everybody home,” Maxi said, during a rare coffee break in the kitchen of the Cookie House. “I actually feel sorry for Barb. The Gentleman George project was her idea, and I know this wasn’t what she wanted.”
“I know,” Kate said, as she took a batch of key lime crisps out of her test oven. “Is Ben any closer to figuring out Alvin’s real identity?”
“Nope. He got the DNA test back, and Harp was right. It’s not a match to Caroline. I was wondering if it meant that maybe they had different daddies. But Peter said it wasn’t even close. They don’t know who Alvin is. And I’m beginning to wonder if they ever will.”
“At least now we know why Alvin was in your yard,” Kate said, using a spatula to gently loosen the cookies from the baking sheet. “And that takes some of the heat off of you.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t know about the backhoe,” Maxi said.
“Gabe said he felt stupid for not putting two and two together. But, to be fair, the machine wasn’t left anywhere near where we found Alvin. It was pretty much right where the crew put it the day before. Gabe and the lawn guys just assumed that whoever tried to swipe the thing wrecked it before they could go anywhere.”
“Sounds like they broke it when they were putting it back,” Maxi said. “And they had to put it back. If you want to hide a body, you can’t leave a big backhoe standing next to it. That’s like a neon sign that says, ‘Hey, guess what’s under here?’”
Kate studied the cookies as she set the sheet on the counter. “The texture is right. And the color is good. Now I just need to see what they taste like. And that’s why you’re really here. I need an honest opinion.”
“Awful, horrible, yucky,” Maxi said, grinning. “Sorry, just practicing.”
Kate saw motion to her left and looked up. “Andre, come in. Would you like some coffee?”
“Ah, thank you, but no. I cannot stay. I am hoping perhaps you can help me with a small problem?”
“Of course,” Kate said, wiping her hands on her bakery apron and turning to face him. “Just tell me what I can do.”
“My Rosie is very upset. A book that is very special to her, it has gone missing. We have been through the house everywhere. But it seems it is gone.”
“It wasn’t about pirates, was it?” Maxi asked. “’Cause this whole island is losing its pirate mind.”
Andre shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. It is not valuable, this book. It is sentimental. And my wife, she is inconsolable.”
“Not her mother’s recipe book?” Kate breathed.
“Yes,” he said, nodding sadly.
“She told me about that—about how much it meant to her. I’m so sorry. How can I help?”
“I know that it seems small. But one recipe that she loved—she said you had a copy? From the contest? I thought perhaps—until we find the book—if she might have that?”
“Of course,” Kate said. “I don’t have a photocopier. But you can have my recipe card. I can use Harp’s entry later to write out another one.”
She walked over to the counter and riffled through the small metal box. She pulled out a card and handed it off to him. “I kn
ow this isn’t much compared to what she’s lost. I’m so sorry.”
“Bon,” he said simply. “It is, as they say, better than nothing.”
“Just out of curiosity, when’s the last time Rosie remembers having the book—or seeing it around?”
“Ah, let me see. Ah, yes. It was just a few days before la Saint-Valentin. The day of Saint Valentine. She used it to make a big batch of her mother’s famous bonbons. Magnifique!”
After he left, Maxi looked at Kate and shook her head.
“I know from the look on your face, there’s a story there. Spill. And why is Harp entering Rosie’s recipe in the cookie contest?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Kate admitted. “I started to ask him last week. But that’s when Ben showed up with the news that Alvin might be Harp’s long-lost brother-in-law.”
“Yeah, I guess after that, you can’t say, ‘Oh and by the way, are you stealing cookie recipes?’”
“Pretty much,” Kate said, shaking her head. “But that’s the part that doesn’t make any sense. I mean, it’s not like you have to be a good baker to win the contest. You don’t even have to have the best recipe. It’s a drawing.”
“What?” Maxi said. “You’ve got that look on your face again. The one that means trouble.”
“Have you noticed that whatever questions we have lately, all the answers keep coming back to Valentine’s Day?”
Chapter 65
“I can’t believe the festival is over,” Kate said, as she carried a tray with two stacks of cups, a glass carafe of coffee, and a plate of cookies to a table in the backyard of the Cookie House.
In the cool of the morning, some of the shopkeepers had taken to meeting for coffee at the Cookie House. Oliver, who’d just finished a rousing game of catch the disc with Gabe, was stretched out on the grass.
“Like the man says, ‘Fish and visitors stink after three days,’” Gabe said, taking a sip from his mug.
