by Mel McCoy
“I’ll eat it here,” she said.
Henry placed the donut on a plate and set it on the counter. Sarah paid for the baked goods, and grabbed the plate and the bag containing the cake. She sauntered over to one of the many empty tables and took a seat.
Henry stood behind the counter, still beaming. “It is so good to see you again,” he said. “I remember when you were a young tyke. You used to have pigtails and a fancy bow. I feel like that was yesterday.”
Sarah took a bite of donut, and chewed it slowly, enjoying the texture and sweet flavor. “This is as good as I remember it,” she muttered.
“Glad you’re enjoying it,” Henry said. “And I remember when you were a kid, me and Larry would take you fishing on the pier. Such fun!”
She stopped chewing her donut and felt her chest tighten. She thought back to the police officers at the pier. What she’d learned from Marigold Dunham and Adam Dunkin.
Looking over at Henry, she saw he was still smiling. Did he not know about John Jacobs? Was he cloistered in his bakery without enough foot traffic to allow for the latest gossip to hit his ears?
Sarah considered not saying anything, but the curiosity inside her was welling up, ready to explode.
Before she could ask, Henry said, “What troubles you?”
“Didn’t you hear about John Jacobs?”
Henry shook his head. “I’ve been out of town the past few days, just got in this morning. Didn’t hear the latest Jacobs gossip. What’s that rascal getting mixed up into this time? Can’t be worse than last week’s debacle.”
“What do you mean?”
“I guess you don’t know about the trouble he’s been causing around town, during the off-season, no less.”
“You still lost me.”
“Well, he owns a lot of property in the area. Landlord to many of the small businesses. Not your grandpa, of course—Larry is lucky to own his building. But not all of us can be that lucky. Jacobs is my landlord, among many others. He’s raised the rent twenty percent this year, on top of last year’s increase.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah,” Henry said. “Patricia is taking it harder than most of us. Last week, I was over there getting tea and she said she’d clobber him over the head with her cane next chance she got. Usually she’s sweet, and just joking, but she sounded like she was serious.”
“And you think her threat was over the rent increase?”
“Yeah, I assume it was that. But it wasn’t until he insulted her infamous oatmeal cookies, the very first treat she served alongside her teas that took her business to the next level, that she made the threat.”
Sarah’s eyes went wide. “What did he say?”
“That her cookie was a bit too dry for his taste.” Henry Fudderman shook his head. “She takes a lot of pride in everything she makes in that shop. I can relate, but I don’t think I would ever threaten harm on anyone if they insulted my cakes.”
Sarah set the uneaten half of her donut on the plate, feeling her jaw drop slightly.
Henry’s beaming smile was nowhere to be found. His tone now serious, he asked, “What’s the matter, dear? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Chapter 4
Sarah grabbed the remaining half of her uneaten donut and took a large bite, giving her a much-needed moment to think over her response.
Chewing, she saw the look on Henry Fudderman’s face.
A look of worry.
Did she want to be the one to break this news to him?
He’d find out about John Jacobs’ death eventually—it didn’t have to be through her, though.
To Sarah, Henry Fudderman was the wonderful old man who was the only person she knew who could bake as well as Grandma. Kind and sweet—a gentle soul. She wasn’t sure how he would take the news.
Swallowing the delicious piece of donut, she made her decision about how to reply.
“I’m fine, really,” she said, forcing a smile.
“Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything.”
Outside, she could hear the wind thumping against the glass windows of the bakery. Soon, sheets of rain would be pounding the pavement, making her walk back to her grandpa’s eventful.
“I should get back before it starts to pour,” she said, then finished her donut.
Henry nodded, and Sarah saw a hint of a smile appear. “Yeah. You don’t have long till the heavens open up. Tell your grandpa to stop by soon. He’s right down the street, but we never run into each other.”
“He’s been busy getting ready for the tourists.”
“Same here. Well, Miss Sarah, have a nice night. Stay dry.”
Sarah grabbed the bagged cake and Rugby’s leash, and left the bakery, waving to Henry Fudderman as she went. Soon, the old man would catch wind of the recent events, but she was glad she wasn’t the one to break the news, even if Henry Fudderman considered John Jacobs a “rascal.”
“Let’s get back to Grandpa’s,” Sarah said, walking down the street. The ice cream shop employees were getting in their cars, driving away for the night. Other than them, the street was vacant.
Once their cars were out of sight, Sarah surveyed the main strip. Cascade Cove looked like a ghost town.
Motion off to her right caught her eye.
Shadows filled the sidewalk on the other side of the street, near a barbershop.
Sarah froze and watched, but saw nothing.
She and Rugby continued on. Soon, they’d be back at Grandpa’s boutique and—
A sound behind her caught her attention.
She whipped around and heard Rugby growl lightly. “Easy, boy.”
Perhaps it was the wind, she thought.
Or perhaps it was something else…
She turned back around and continued along.
There it was again—that same noise. A metallic clinking sound.
Before she could turn around again to rush back to the safety of her grandpa’s place, she saw the source of the sound.
Out of the shadows, a small dog strode toward her, a tag clinking against a part of its collar as he went.
“What are you doing out here?” Sarah said, her voice soft and soothing.
Rugby’s tail wagged at the sight of a potential play-pal. He sat obediently without Sarah’s command, though she was about to issue it.
“Reading my mind again, boy?”
Rugby looked up, happy as ever.
The small dog approached them, unafraid. She was familiar with the breed—it was a corgi, its golden hair trimmed short, like it had been recently groomed, though his paw looked dirty. Its ears were perked up, alert.
“What’s that hanging out of your mouth?”
Sarah crouched down and reached out her hand, her palm faced upward, showing she meant no harm.
The dog came closer and let the object he was holding in his mouth fall into her hand, as if he were delivering it to her. She looked at it, practically studying it. It seemed to be some sort of antique locket necklace with a tree-like symbol inscribed on it. While still crouched down, she could see the corgi’s tag glimmering. On it, she saw an engraved name: WINSTON.
“Hi, Winston. Nice to meet you.” She looked around. “Where are your owners?”
The first raindrops of the night struck the pavement, and Sarah knew that soon, a torrential downpour would ensue.
Winston sat and let out a small whimper.
Sarah sighed and looked up at the sky. Thunder cracked loudly and she looked back at the small corgi.
“C’mon, Winston,” she said, patting her leg. “You can’t be out here in the rain at night.”
The dog started following her, and she led the way, looking over her shoulder every dozen steps to ensure the corgi was still hot on her trail.
A flash of lightning followed by another loud crack startled her, but both dogs racing toward the boutique with her were unperturbed. Off in the distance, beyond her grandpa’s place, she saw a man in black dashing from a
parked car and into a neighboring building. She wondered if the man lived in the upstairs apartment of the neighboring Bait and Tackle store.
The man was quickly out of sight, and Sarah didn’t pay it a second mind.
She had an important mission, one she knew might soon fail: stay dry.
The sky opened, and the water hitting the concrete sounded like a thousand miniature waves lapping up to shore. Ahead, she saw Larry standing at the open door to the boutique, waving her on.
“Hurry!”
In the next moment, she, Rugby, and Winston were inside the boutique, the sound of rain growing louder, even as the glass door swept closed.
“Look at you,” Larry said, smirking. “Another minute out there, and you’d be completely soaked.”
Sarah felt the weight of the wet clothes and knew it could’ve been worse. Though her hair was dripping, she felt exhilarated.
“Why don’t you go up to get a change of…wait a minute,” Larry said, looking at the corgi. “Who’s this fella?”
“That’s Winston.”
Larry scratched his head. “Don’t you think one dog is enough? I know you rescued Rugby, but—”
“He followed me home,” Sarah said.
“Where’s his owner?”
“I don’t know, but I couldn’t just leave him out there. And it’s not the best time to see if there’s anyone looking for him. It’s a mess out there.”
“Hmm.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me.”
Misty swept by Winston, and the corgi dodged him the same way Rugby always had.
“Looks like it’s two to one, now, Misty,” Larry said.
Sarah chuckled. “Even at two-to-one, that evil cat still outnumbers them.”
Larry grabbed his chest and raised his eyebrows. “Evil? After all she’s done for you…”
“Grandpa, she’s a grumpy old cat and—”
“I guess you’re not getting brownies after this display,” Larry said, with a wink.
“Then I guess you’re not getting what’s in this bag.”
Larry stepped closer, peering down at the bag as if he were expecting the top to be open so he could see right in. “What’s in there? Looks like a Fudderman bag.”
“A Boardwalk Fudge Cake,” Sarah said, holding the bag closer.
Larry gasped. “You’ve found my weakness!”
Sarah laughed and said, “Want to spoil our dinners?”
Emma came out from the back office, her eyes bloodshot from working on putting an order together.
“Did you call Bob yet, Grandpa?”
“The handyman? Why would I call him?”
Emma let out a heavy breath. “You asked me to remind you to call him to fix the light above the bowtie display.”
“Oh yes, that’s right.”
“Bowties?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah, it’s new,” Emma said. “We have them for cats and dogs. Tried to get Misty to wear one to model for our customers, but she won’t have it.”
Larry laughed. “That’s an understatement.” He turned to Emma, pointing at the bag in Sarah’s hand. “So, Sarah brought cake.”
Emma shrugged but said nothing.
“Suit yourself,” Larry said, then winked at Sarah again. “More for us.”
Upstairs, Sarah changed into dry clothing and came out to the living room to see Rugby, Winston, and Misty rushing around. It was clear the two dogs were playing, though Sarah couldn’t tell if Misty was also playing or if she was harassing her canine counterparts, as usual.
Emma stood with arms crossed, looking at the three animals. She looked up at Sarah and shook her head. “You’re not here more than ten hours and somehow you doubled the amount of dogs you have.”
“He’s not mine.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s not.”
“Where did you get him?”
“She found him,” Larry said from the kitchen. Sarah could smell the plate of chocolate chip brownies he was holding. “Fresh out of the oven. Eat up, girls.”
“No dinner?” Emma asked.
Larry looked over to Sarah. “Get the cake out.”
Emma sighed. “Grandma leaves, and you’re like a kid again, eating sweets for dinner.”
“You know how to cook,” Larry said to Emma, putting the plate of steaming brownies on the kitchen table.
“I’m not the chef around here,” she said. “You are.”
“I’m taking the night off,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a copious bite. Chewing it, he opened up the refrigerator and grabbed a container of milk. “Anyone else want some milk?”
“I’ll take some,” Sarah said, taking a seat at the dining room table. She picked up a brownie and took a bite. Being at her grandparents’ place always meant lots of food, but she hadn’t had this many sweets in a long time.
Emma sat across from her, took one look at the brownies, and said, “Oh, what the heck.” She grabbed a brownie and took a bite, like she’d been without chocolate for a decade.
Larry brought over three glasses of milk and set them down. Sarah took a sip, feeling the cold beverage hit her tongue.
“What’s that?” Emma asked.
Sarah took another bite of brownie. “What?”
“That thing around your neck. Did you just buy that?”
Sarah lifted her hand and felt the antique locket that was in front of her chest, hanging from the necklace. She saw Winston in her peripherals, then fixed her gaze on Emma. “Funny thing about this locket. Winston gave it to me.”
Chapter 5
“Who’s Winston?” Emma asked. “New boyfriend, or—”
Sarah nearly choked on her milk, struggling to keep it from going out her nose and onto the plate of chocolate chip brownies in between her and her cousin.
“Winston’s this fella,” Larry said, pointing down at the corgi that continued to play with Rugby and Misty.
“Wait, I’m confused,” Emma said.
“Winston had this wooden, antique locket hanging from his mouth when I found him, like he’d picked it up somewhere.”
Larry came over to the table and sat down. “You didn’t tell me about that.”
“Didn’t have time to,” Sarah said. “You were too busy eyeing up my cake.”
“Oh yes,” Larry said, getting up abruptly. “I forgot to put out the cake. Can’t forget the main course.”
Emma rolled her eyes.
“The odd thing about it,” Sarah said, “is it’s the heaviest locket I’ve ever felt. And it has a tree engraved on the front of it, with roots and all.”
“Really? Can I see it?” Emma held out her hand, waiting for the necklace.
Sarah took it from around her neck and handed it over to her cousin.
“Well it’s old, so they probably used real wood or something and that’s why it feels so heavy. They didn’t use anything cheap back then.”
“Back when?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t know,” Emma said, inspecting it. “Wow, this tree is very intricate. Looks like the Tree of Life, almost. Wonder where he found it?” Emma said, pushing her thumbnails into the side of it, trying to pry it apart.
“What are you doing?” Sarah said.
“Trying to open it. Might give us a clue to who Winston belongs to.”
“Good point.”
Emma let out a small grunt as she struggled to open it, to no avail. “It won’t open,” she said in frustration.
Sarah took the necklace back and looked at it. There were slits on either side, suggesting it could open. But upon further inspection, she said, “There are no hinges.”
“Try opening it from the bottom.”
Sarah tried. “Nope, I don’t think it opens. Probably just glued two slats of wood together. It’s old.”
“Yeah, that it is,” Emma said, then drank the rest of her milk.
“It’s a pendant, then,” Larry said. Carrying over the container of milk, he poured her a second glass before she could
tell him she didn’t want any more.
“So, looks like you lucked out today,” Emma said. “A new antique locket—”
“Pendant,” Larry said.
Emma corrected herself, “A new antique pendant, a new dog—”
“I’m not keeping Winston. His owners are probably worried sick about him. I’m putting up flyers tomorrow.”
“So how was Henry Fudderman when you saw him?” Larry asked.
“Good, but apparently he doesn’t know about John Jacobs yet.”
“He never liked him much anyway.”
“I heard.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Henry Fudderman said John Jacobs is his landlord—”
“Right, right,” Larry said, bringing the cake to the table. He sliced a piece and put it on a plate, giving it to Emma. “Here, dear.”
Emma looked down at the cake, uninterested. Then she looked at Sarah. “His landlord?”
“Yeah, and Jacobs raised the rent for all of his tenants this year, including Henry Fudderman. Twenty percent—can you believe that?”
Emma’s eyes lit up, a mischievous grin fixed on her face.
“What are you smiling about?” Sarah asked.
“Don’t you see?” Emma said. “John Jacobs was afraid of water. He raises the rent for his tenants. Next thing you know, he’s dead. And you just said Henry Fudderman didn’t like him much and—”
“Henry didn’t even know about Jacobs’ drowning.”
Emma leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table, still ignoring her piece of cake. “Could be a ruse.”
“What do you mean, a ruse?”
“Fudderman’s trying to trick you.”
Sarah shook her head. “You’re crazy. Henry had no idea about what happened to Jacobs—”
“How do you know?”
“If you’d let me finish, I was going to say he had no idea because he was out of town. Just got back this morning, in fact. Jacobs drowned last night.”
“Was murdered last night,” Emma corrected.
“Jumping to conclusions again,” Larry chimed in.
Emma turned to her grandpa. “No.”
“Yeah, you are. He told me about his nephew’s graduation party he was planning to attend out of town. I remember him saying the event was, let’s see…” Larry looked at a calendar on his refrigerator. “Yesterday evening.”
