by Leena Clover
Copyright © Leena Clover, Author 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Berries and Birthdays – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Series Book 3
By Leena Clover
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
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Books by Leena Clover
Strawberries and Strangers – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 1
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CSW34GB/
Cupcakes and Celebrities – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 2
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CYX5TNR
Gone with the Wings – Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 1
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071WHNM6K
A Pocket Full of Pie - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 2
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072Q7B47P/
For a Few Dumplings More - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 3
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B072V3T2BV
Back to the Fajitas - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 4
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0748KPTLM
Christmas with the Franks – Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 5
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B077GXR4WS/
Chapter 1
Jenny King was baking up a storm. A motley crew of people was helping her, each engrossed in their assigned tasks.
“What about the birthday cake?” Petunia Clark, the owner of the Boardwalk Café asked Jenny. “The Cohens are counting on you.”
The small town of Pelican Cove was gearing up for a big July 4th celebration. It was a popular holiday in the seaside town, embraced by locals and tourists alike. A long list of events were planned and carried out with great enthusiasm every year.
This year was big for the town’s oldest resident, Asher Cohen. It was his 100th birthday. Grand centennial celebrations were planned. Jenny was entrusted with baking the birthday cake.
Jenny King hummed a tune as she pulled out a pan of blueberry muffins from the oven. She reflected over the past few months of her life, realizing she hadn’t been this happy in a long time. Jenny King had been a suburban mother for most of her life. One day, her husband of twenty years had come home and delivered a bombshell. He was going out with a much younger girl who was now in the family way. He asked Jenny to clear out.
Jenny had sought shelter on the remote island of Pelican Cove. Her aunt, Star, had welcomed her warmly and opened her house and heart to Jenny. After letting her mope and sulk for a few weeks, Star had cajoled Jenny into starting work at her friend Petunia’s café. The rest, as they said, was history.
Jenny had started working her magic in the kitchen and now the whole town of Pelican Cove was singing her praises. People lined up to taste her food. Jenny didn’t disappoint, coming up with delicious new recipes every few days, using the area’s abundant local produce and fresh seafood.
“The cake’s cooling over there,” Jenny told Petunia, pointing toward a wire rack on the counter. “I already chopped the chocolate for the ganache.”
“Aren’t you making your special butter cream frosting?” Heather Morse asked.
Heather was an islander who had become a close friend.
“Asher Cohen loves his chocolate,” Petunia explained. Her double chins jiggled as she spoke. “He specifically requested a chocolate ganache for the cake.”
“And Asher Cohen gets what he wants,” Betty Sue Morse noted, her hands busy knitting a colorful scarf.
Betty Sue Morse was a formidable force in Pelican Cove. Her family had originally owned the island. It had been called Morse Isle then. She was the fourth generation descendant of James Morse who had travelled south from New England with his family in 1837. He had bought the island for $125 and named it Morse Isle. He built a house for his family on a large tract of land. Fishing provided him with a livelihood, so did floating wrecks. He sent for a friend or two from up north. They came and settled on the island with their families. They in turn invited their friends. Morse Isle soon became a thriving community.
Being a barrier island, it took a battering in the great storm of 1962. Half the island was submerged forever. Most of that land had belonged to the Morse family. A new town emerged in the aftermath of the storm and it was named Pelican Cove.
Heather was Betty Sue’s granddaughter and the last of the Morses.
“Give the man a break,” Rebecca King or Star, Jenny’s aunt, said. “He’s turning 100, after all.”
“And he can’t stop reminding everyone about it,” Betty Sue complained.
Asher Cohen owned a thriving construction business. He still maintained an active interest in every aspect of it. His money gave him power. He was one of the biggest employers in town and most people felt indebted to him because of it. Betty Sue Morse wasn’t too happy about it. She felt the locals needed to worship the Morse name. Everyone else was an upstart.
“Don’t be mean, Grandma,” Heather said, scooping muffin batter into moulds. “Asher Cohen has been good for this town.”
“He will never be one of us,” Betty Sue Morse sniffed.
“Did he come from the Bella?” Jenny asked innocently. “I thought the Survivors were as good as locals.”
Jenny was referring to the survivors of an old shipwreck. The summer of 1876 had brought tragedy to the island. A passing steamship, the Isabella, had sunk in the shoals. Plenty of people had gone down with her. There were only seventeen survivors who were rescued and brought to Morse Isle. They stayed on and never went back. Their families thrived on in Pelican Cove, still referred to as the Survivors. Star’s deceased husband had been one of them.
“He appeared out of nowhere one fine day,” Betty Sue told them. “Him and his wife and kid. Came around asking my Daddy for a job. I was knee-high to a grasshopper but I still remember.”
“Grandma’s right,” Heather told Jenny. “He built Cohen Construction up from nothing. Now they are the best custom builders on the Eastern Shore. You couldn’t have chosen a better company for your home.”
Jenny had recently hired Asher Cohen’s company to refurbish the ocean facing house she had bought with her divorce money.
“Mom!” a voice yelled from the deck out back.
“What is it, Nicky?” Jenny asked, peering out of the kitchen.
Her college going son Nick was spending the summer in Pelican Cove.
“How much watermelon do you think I can eat?”
“Plenty!” Jenny said, rolling her eyes.
Like most 19 year olds, her son had a voracious appetite.
“The twins say they can beat me at it.”
Two lanky girls with eyes as blue as the ocean chortled
with laughter.
“I can eat more than a girl,” Nick grumbled.
He brightened as he spied a tall, muscular man walking up the steps from the boardwalk.
“What do you think, Adam?”
Jenny’s heart raced as she feasted her eyes over Adam Hopkins. He was the sheriff of Pelican Cove and he did full justice to his uniform. Jenny and Adam had some turbulent history but they had called a truce and recently gone out on their first date. It had gone well.
Adam placed his arms around the two girls, his twin daughters. His eyes crinkled and little crow’s feet appeared at the corners as he gave Jenny a mega watt smile.
“Why do you think I am so poor?” Adam asked Nick. “These two hellions have been eating me out of house and home all these years.”
“But watermelon?” Nick asked. “Seriously?”
“Loser buys dinner,” one of the twins said. “Deal?”
Adam and Jenny went inside, leaving the kids bickering about something else.
“How about a muffin?” Jenny asked. “They are fresh out of the oven.”
“Can’t say no to that,” Adam said with a smile. “Have you finished baking for tomorrow? The races start in an hour.”
“Why don’t you go home and change, Jenny?” Petunia suggested. “We’ll tidy up here and meet you on the beach.”
“Do we have enough?” Jenny asked worriedly.
The Boardwalk Café was providing muffins and coffee for the entire town the next day.
“We do,” Petunia assured her, dabbing the sweat on her brow with a handkerchief.
“Let the festivities begin,” Star cackled, clapping her hands. “I can’t wait.”
“Grandma’s flagging off the canoe race,” Heather said. “We need to get going too.”
“Tell me what the agenda is once again,” Jenny sighed. “I don’t know how you keep it straight, Heather.”
“It’s the same stuff year after year,” Heather sighed. “That’s why I’m excited about the centennial. It’s going to be something new.”
“Canoe races in the bay,” Star counted off her fingers. “Fish fry at Ethan’s after that. Bonfire on the beach. Breakfast at the Boardwalk Café tomorrow. Watermelon eating contest. Barbecue on the beach. Parade. Fireworks…”
“You missed the awards ceremony, Star,” Betty Sue pointed out. “That’s right after the parade.”
“What about the birthday party?” Heather reminded them. “That’s after the fireworks. We are all invited.”
“You mean the centennial party,” Jenny smiled. “Never thought I would be meeting a 100 year old man.”
“He doesn’t look that old,” Star said critically. “And he definitely doesn’t act that way.”
“Careful, Star!” Betty Sue warned. “Are you angling to be his third wife?”
“Don’t be silly, Betty Sue!” Star said, turning red.
They all shared a good laugh over that.
“I get off duty soon,” Adam whispered to Jenny. “Can I pick you up after that? We can go see the races together.”
“Jason’s driving me there,” Jenny said apologetically.
Adam’s eyes flickered.
“Of course he is.”
“It’s not a date,” Jenny said mildly. “He’s just giving us a ride. I will see you there.”
Jason Stone was a local lawyer, the only lawyer in Pelican Cove. He had gone out on a couple of dates with Jenny several years ago when she had visited the island as a teen. He still wanted to date Jenny King.
Light hearted and friendly, Jason had been a big help to Jenny when her aunt had been accused of a local murder. Jason was so easy going, Jenny loved spending time with him. He made her laugh, unlike the serious Adam Hopkins who made her blood pressure shoot up every time she exchanged a few words with him.
The whole town clapped and cheered the contestants of the canoe races. They gorged on all kinds of seafood at Ethan’s Crab Shack after that where a massive fish fry was in progress.
Jenny hopped about with a smile on her face the next morning. They started the coffee around 8 AM, much later than usual. The doors opened at 9 to welcome the whole town.
“How long have you done breakfast for the town, Petunia?” Jenny asked.
“Every July 4th for the last 25 years,” Petunia said proudly. “It’s my way of doing something for them.”
“People love the café, don’t they?” Jenny beamed happily.
“More so now,” Petunia nodded. “They can’t stop drooling over your food.”
Jenny tried to hide her blush as she flung their doors open.
Asher Cohen was the first person in line. He stood behind his wife, holding her wheelchair in his gnarled hands.
Jenny offered to wheel his wife in.
“Do I look senile?” he spat at her, then gave her a broad smile.
“Happy Birthday, Mr. Cohen,” Jenny laughed, offering to shake his hand.
He held her hand in a tight grip and shook it heartily.
“How about some breakfast?” he asked, sitting at a table close to the door.
His wife didn’t say much. Star had told her she avoided talking to strangers.
“Here you go, Mr. Cohen,” Jenny said, bringing over a tray with warm muffins, butter, and two steaming cups of coffee.
“How’s my birthday cake coming?” Asher Cohen asked. “Does it have the chocolate ganache like I told you?”
“Don’t worry,” Jenny assured him. “It’s made exactly according to your instructions.”
“I expect to see you at my party, young lady,” he thundered.
Jenny tried not to stare at the shock of blond hair that covered Asher Cohen’s head. His eyes were clear blue, only slightly clouded by age. He was pointing at her as he spoke, a habit he was well known for.
“Your party’s the talk of the town,” Jenny told him. “I’m not going to miss it.”
“And make sure you watch the parade,” he ordered. “I’m going to be riding in it.”
A short, chubby man entered the café and sat next to Asher Cohen. His brown hair looked like it hadn’t been combed that morning. His belly indicated how much he loved his beer. He scratched his head and tried to get the old man’s attention.
“What’s up, Gramps?” he grumbled. “I’m binge watching Game of Thrones. Why did you call me here?”
Asher Cohen grumbled something unintelligible.
“I need to talk to you, boy,” he growled. “It’s important.”
Jenny noticed the woman in the wheelchair just by chance. Her fists were clenched so tightly they had turned red. The eyes staring at the chubby young man were full of an expression that could only be called hatred.
Chapter 2
The Main Street of Pelican Cove was decked out in red, white and blue. A recent beautification project had already made the town spiffy. Streamers and flags adorned storefronts, cars, trees, lamp posts, pillars and just about every available surface.
Jenny wore a flag tee with white Bermuda shorts and cheered wildly as the water melon eating contest started. Nick called it quits after his tenth slice of watermelon.
“What’s next?” she asked Adam who was cheering for the twins.
“Are you hungry yet?” he asked.
“I’m starving,” Jenny groaned. “I just had half a muffin this morning. We ran out! You won’t believe the number of tourists that came through the café this morning.”
“You can thank Instagram for that,” Adam grinned.
“Or Mandy,” Jenny said with a laugh.
The town of Pelican Cove had won the tag of Prettiest Town in America earlier that year, thanks to Mandy James, an enthusiastic consultant the town had hired. She had started social media accounts for the town and literally put Pelican Cove on the map.
“Jason and Captain Charlie are manning the grill,” Jenny said eagerly. “He’s promised me one of his specials.”
Adam Hopkins leaned on his cane and followed Jenny to a big tent that had
been set up on the boardwalk. Jenny’s friends, or the Magnolias as they called themselves, were seated at a big table in the center of the tent.
“We saved you a seat,” her aunt called out. “You should try these hot dogs before they are gone, Jenny.”
A tall, skinny woman with thick Coke-bottle glasses patted Jenny on the back as she sat down.
“Is that a new dress, Molly?” Jenny asked her.
Molly Henderson worked at the local library. She was closer in age to Heather Morse, at least ten years younger than Jenny’s 44. But she had connected with Jenny instantly.
“I ordered it online,” she said shyly. “How does it look?”
“It’s perfect!” Jenny assured her.
“That’s what I told her,” a tall brown haired man seated next to her exclaimed, making her blush.
“Why aren’t you helping Jason at the grill?” Heather asked him.
Chris Williams stood up and stretched lazily. He ruffled Heather’s hair and looked at her lovingly.
“I’m going, okay?”
“You better watch out, Heather,” Jenny warned her. “Someone’s going to snatch him from under your nose. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Listen to her, girl,” Betty Sue sighed. “Unless you want to be single at my centennial.”
The women chattered on, jumping from one topic to another. Jenny tapped her foot impatiently, finding it hard to relax.
“Why don’t you settle down, dear?” Petunia asked. “We’ve done our bit for the day. Time to sit back and enjoy.”
“I’m going to get some food,” Jenny said, getting up. “Coming, Molly?”
Jenny, Heather and Molly walked over to the grills and stood in line. There was a big variety of food to choose from, ranging from hot dogs, burgers and fish to an assortment of side dishes people had brought in.
They loaded big platters with a little bit of everything and carried them back to their table.
Heather placed a stack of empty plates next to the food.
Nick and the twins came by, feasting on giant candy floss on sticks. They promised Jenny they would eat some real food later.
“What is the parade like?” Jenny asked as she bit into a hot dog.
