Murder's a Beach

by Agatha Ball

  "Hi, Linda," I greeted, sticking out my hand. "Don't mind Johnny. He's been hit on the head a couple of times."

  "I totally have," he confirmed.

  "Welcome to Seaside," I continued. "Are you taking over the ferry terminal?"

  Linda tucked her stringy, mousy brown hair behind her ear and rubbed her eye with a finger. "Yes."

  I waited for her to say more, but she, apparently, had no more to say. Johnny put out both his hands in a motion that seemed to suggest 'I got this.' He explained, "So, Linda is from the mainland. She came over today to take over for Georgia. She said hello and got the keys and checked into the Grand Hotel where she will be staying this week, which is pretty stellar, but when she came back, Georgia was totally dead. But it was pretty lucky that we only get two ferries a day, because she had plenty of time to figure everything out before the rush. She's a little shy, which is why she doesn't say a whole lot. But she totally wants to try surfing sometime, so I told her I'd totally take her out. On account of the fact I'm the only one who rents surfboards here." He folded his arms across his chest proudly and checked in with Linda to make sure he got everything right.

  "Yep," Linda said.

  Johnny beamed.

  You know, everyone has a type, and Johnny tended to be drawn to people who wouldn't be intimidated by his intellect.

  "Well, it's great to meet you, Linda," I said. I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. "I work over at Bitter Beans. Feel free to stop by anytime if you need a cup of coffee or something. Are you going to be here long?"

  "Maybe," she said with a shrug and a sigh.

  This was going to be like pulling teeth. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you around." I turned to Johnny. "I gotta go find Granny. She didn't come back this afternoon."

  "Oh, I saw her in Wanda's shop," said Johnny, barely registering me as he scrambled to help Linda gather up all the stuff on her table. He stared at her for approval like a puppy dog with a new master.

  "I'll catch you later, Johnny!" I said as he followed Linda inside the booth. I couldn't help but smile. He was so funny. I could see he was already dreaming of tandem shoulder-stands as they surfed into the sunset. I gave this infatuation a week before some other mermaid caught his eye.

  I walked over to Wanda's souvenir shop and saw that Johnny had been telling the truth. I pushed open the door and was greeted by cackling howls. I'm sure someone had just finished telling a filthy joke not fit for my ears.

  Wanda's shop was crammed with tourist stuff: pithy t-shirts and boxes covered in seashells, most of which she made herself. The place smelled of potpourri and scented candles. Granny's posse was leaning on the wrap counter, each of them holding wineglasses shaped like red, plastic cups on wine stems.

  "Are you getting my Granny into trouble?" I asked.

  Wanda brushed away my concerns as she decided everyone needed their drinks topped off.

  "Paige, this was just what I needed," Granny slurred.

  "Granny, why don't you let me take you to bed?" I offered.

  Wanda shut me down. "Paige, we've been rolling one another into bed since before you were born. Now, get out there and be young and responsible, and leave the irresponsibility to the grown-ups."

  Who was I to argue with my elders? "Granny, call me if you need anything."

  "That I will, Paige!" she announced, giving me a little salute before taking another mouthful of her wine.

  I'm pretty sure they were going to be there all night and Granny wasn't going to be working the early shift unless it was the same hour she came stumbling in. I left them to their fun and walked back towards the shop where I told Nate to meet me. As I passed by the tollbooth, Linda and Johnny were packed out and gone. I hoped that Linda was nice to Johnny. He was a doof, but he was a good-hearted doof, and he deserved kindness.

  I smiled as I saw Nate's tall frame leaning up against the doorframe of Bitter Beans, just casually waiting for me like he didn't have a care in the world outside of being there with me. I flung my arms around his neck and gave him a great big kiss.

  "Man, it is so good to see you," I said when the kiss finally ended.

  He laughed and pushed a tendril of hair away from my forehead. "I hope you have lousy days more often."

  "Your wish is my command," I said, wrapping my arm around his waist as we stepped off the sidewalk of Main Street and made our way to the Founders' Festival. "In fact, I'd say that I can almost assure you tomorrow is going to be absolutely terrible."

  "I didn't expect to see you so late," he said. "I thought you'd have to get up early to work."

  I shrugged. "Granny's out with her friends for the night, so I thought it was the perfect excuse to say hello to my favorite friend."

  He pointed at himself innocently. "Me? Do you mean me? Or are you headed off to see Johnny later?"

  I gave him a playful nudge with my hip. "I don't think I'm going to be seeing Johnny anytime soon," I informed him. "He's found himself a special lady."

  "Really?" said Nate replied with piqued interest.

  I gave him a nod. "She's a corker."

  "Oh no," said Nate, having hung around me enough to understand what that meant. "I'm terrified."

  "She's taken over Georgia's booth and makes Johnny look like a rocket scientist."

  "A match made in heaven," Nate groaned.

  As we turned the corner, the Founders' Festival was in full swing. Music drifted across the once-empty field from the bandstand as people wandered from food truck to booth and little kids screamed with excited terror on the brightly lit carnival rides. The smell of cotton candy, kettle corn, and every fried food imaginable made my mouth water.

  Nate pulled out his wallet in front of one of the wagons. "What can I get you?" he asked. "I've gotta make a show of buying things so the vendors come back."

  "How about a caramel apple?" I asked.

  He stepped up to the window. "A caramel apple and a bag of doughnuts," he said to a bored-looking man. Listen, when your boss makes you wear a white and pink striped shirt, no one is paying you enough to also get you to smile.

  Nate exchanged a stack of cash for the fist full of treats and then handed over my apple on a stick. "So, tell me about this lousy day you had."

  I rolled my eyes as I bit into the apple. "Aside from Granny getting accused of murder by Stan and Fred?"

  Nate waved at a couple from the island as we walked along. "Again? Wrongly accusing people of stuff is like a hobby for them."

  "It feels a bit like at the beginning of a murder mystery where you call out every person as the murderer so you'll never be wrong."

  He nodded his head as he thought it through. "Technically, it's a winning strategy."

  "They never guessed Jake as the murderer."

  "A 98% winning strategy."

  "Speaking of Jake, Trevor also stopped by and Granny's posse accused him of being the murderer. But they said they'd let it slide if he got Jake's bar up and running soon."

  "He's already been here 24 hours and his bar isn't reopened yet?"

  "I know! Slacker."

  "Obviously something isn't right. I put my money on that guy as Georgia's killer!"

  I punched him lightly in the arm. "I don't date murderers."

  "Touché."

  "Besides," I said. "Georgia said she had a booth all set up for the Founders' Festival. I bet she got one of those deeply fried chocolate cholesterol bars and rage stroked herself into that early grave."

  "Speaking of," he said, holding out his bag to me, "you should really try one of these doughnuts. They are SO good."

  "Better than my doughnuts?" I asked, reaching in.

  He gave me a powdery, sugary kiss on the forehead. "Nothing is better than your doughnuts."

  I popped one of them in my mouth. They were still hot and melty. Even I had to admit a little defeat. "They're awfully good, though."

  "Fry grease just gets better with age," he agreed, leaning over and taking a bite of my apple.

  I waved at John
ny and Linda, who had wandered into the party. Johnny noticed me, but she was looking like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. One of these days, I was going to find Johnny a good woman.

  Linda's dourness made me think of another woman I wasn't particularly fond of who had stopped by the shop today. Man, it was like gray hair. We got rid of one horrible person and got two in her place. "Madison felt the need to drop in and mention you two had a peachy keen conversation about the future of the island this morning."

  Nate leaned his head back and groaned. "Those would not be the words I would have used to describe it."

  "That good, huh?"

  "A barrel of laughs."

  We paused on the edge of the dance floor, watching as couples two-stepped to a fiddler. "What'd she want?"

  "For me to spend my entire inheritance on lawyers."

  "Oh boy..."

  "Yep," said Nate. "She says that Byron made certain agreements that I'm bound to and that I'm going to have to talk to legal counsel unless I want to lose the entire island."

  "Oh jeez..."

  "And then she started making noise that somehow she thinks Georgia might have a claim." He gave me a stare down. "I wonder how she got that idea."

  "We both know that's crazy," I said. "It was all a part of my winning strategy. I was just making sure that she wasted a lot of money on a lawyer."

  "Mission accomplished," he said. We fell into silence, listening as the music took a slower rhythm and the dance floor took a quieter pace. He draped his arm across my shoulders and I laced my fingers through his. "If you were the owner of this island, Paige, what would you do with it?"

  "What do you mean?" I asked, looking up at him.

  "Well, would you keep it just as it is and allow it to continue day in and day out with the same people and the same little town? Or would you feel driven to change it? To make it grow? To try and get more commerce here to keep the town in business?"

  "I don't know," I replied. Everyone seemed so happy and like they were having such a great time. It was the kind of night that you hope will never end. Was it a person's duty to make sure there were more nights just like this? Or was there some merit in expanding and growing and trying to get even more people to have nights like this, even if it risked killing the very thing you were trying to share? "I mean... I love the town as it is. It has charm and character and history. And once history is gone, it's gone forever. It's not like you can get a do-over. But..."

  He leaned his cheek against mine. "But what?"

  "But things are awfully tight for business owners on the island. Sure, we're having a great summer now, but what if there's a storm? Or if Founders' Week ever flops because the founder is involved in some terrible scandal." I reached out and tickled him, jokingly, to try to lighten the mood.

  He grabbed my hands and laughed, but wouldn't be budged from his introspective mood. "That's what I worry about. It is great, it is perfect just as it is. But should I be thinking about more? Should I be preparing the island for that rainy day? Should I be investigating growth potential?"

  "Maybe," I admitted. "I don't know."

  "And what happens when summer is over?" he mused.

  His words were like a cold, ice shower. I knew what he was saying. I was only going to be here for the summer to help Granny. Once the tourist season ended, there just wasn't enough business to justify a second set of hands. And Nate had only come over to help his uncle.

  "Do you think you'll stay?" I asked him, trying not to phrase the question in a way that made him think I was asking about the future of "us." Because I honestly didn't know what I wanted. Nate was wonderful and kind and everything I ever wanted in a guy. I was having one of the best summers of my life since I met him, murders and all. But I had these dreams of seeing the world and of going to school and doing things besides just going to a trade school and then taking over my Granny's shop.

  "If I don't stay, there will be no more Founders' on the island," he said. "We've been here for over a century. We've sat on the city council and helped to create jobs and shaped the future of Seaside. Do I stop that? Do I walk away from a century of work my family has done because there are other things I want to do besides manage the business of an island?"

  "What do you want to do?" I asked him.

  "I want to make sure you get to Paris and I want to be there to taste your first professional éclair."

  "But what about you?" I pressed. "What do you want to do with your life?"

  "I don't know," he said. I realized that he wasn't bridging the gap between us, swearing that once the summer was over we would be together forever, and I didn't know if I liked that or not. Instead, he just looked down at me and smiled. "Right now? Right now, there is nothing more I want to do than have a dance."

  And he led me out onto the floor.

  But the words he didn't say were a silent partner in our dance.

  Chapter Eleven

  I rode my bike from my cottage down to the bakery early the next morning. My mind was still replaying the conversation I had with Nate. We had a wonderful night. We had danced not just one dance, but had shut the place down. And that's what summer romances should be, I told myself. I should just have fun and live in the moment and not think about tomorrow. Still...

  Still...

  Johnny joined us on the floor sans Linda, who I guess wasn't one to boogie down. He didn't care. His form of dancing involved a lot of handstands and squatty Russian kicks and bouncing around. Johnny always had a good time, no matter who was around.

  And maybe that's what life was about, I thought. Just making sure that you always had a good time, no matter if you were with someone or not.

  I sighed as I opened the door to Bitter Beans. I was surprised to see that Granny's door was still ajar just as I had left it. I walked over to the base of the steps and called up. "Granny?"

  There was no response. I waited with my hand on the door. I didn't want to wake her up if she was passed out from all of her partying, but by the same token, what if something was wrong? I weighed my options and decided that her privacy was worth risking to see if she was passed out in a puddle of her own puke. I just prayed she hadn't brought home some guy with her.

  But when I looked into her little apartment, it was clear no one was home.

  "Granny?" I called again, just to be sure.

  Captain came streaking past me and down the steps, I think assuming I was there for the sole purpose of getting him breakfast. I saw Georgia's book on her bed stand, but resisted the urge to pick it up. I'd ask Granny when I saw her.

  Now, Granny's a grown woman and certainly free to come and go as she pleased, but granddaughters worry. I knew her girls wouldn't have allowed anything to happen to her, so I just shot her a text and figured I wouldn't panic unless her posse came in for their morning coffee without her.

  I put on my apron and began puttering around, watching the clock as I made the cinnamon rolls and checking the door to see if she was on her way in.

  That's when I heard it. A little whimper from the backroom.

  "Granny?" I said, rushing in.

  There was a sticky red handprint on the wall. One of Granny's sandals. A barefoot stuck out from behind a stack of boxes, boxes that had not been there the day before. I ran. Granny was lying on the ground, disoriented. My heart was in my throat.

  "Wait just a second," I said to her as I dashed to the front room. I picked up the phone and dialed the clinic. We didn't have a full hospital. People had to go to the mainland for that. But we had a small unit on call for hikers who had hurt themselves and stabilize folks until a medical helicopter could pick them up.

  The first person on site was Tim from the bait shop. Last month, I had wrongly accused him of being a murderer. I hoped he wouldn't hold it against us.

  "She's back here!" I said, calling him into the backroom.

  He came dashing in with his medical bag and crouched beside her. "How long has she been here?" he asked.

  I sh
ook my head. "I don't know. She was out with her friends last night and didn't make it up to her bed. I just found her here this morning."

  He opened her eyes and flashed a light in them. Then took her pulse. Then leaned forward and smelled her breath. He rocked back on his heels. "Well, she's drunk as a skunk and a little dehydrated, but I think she's going to live."

  I sat down. "You mean... she's okay?"

  Officer Stan came running into the backroom with his baton drawn, followed by two EMT volunteers with a gurney. Stan held out his arms, stopping everyone. "No one touch anything! I heard there was an attack!"

  As the EMTs transferred Granny, Tim took a moment to explain what was going on to me. "Her vitals are good, but we'll take her to the clinic to run some tests. Make sure she has a clean bill of health before we return this party animal to the wild. She's in good hands, Paige."

  "But what about THAT!" said Officer Stan, pointing at the red handprint on the wall.

  Tim walked over to it and peered at it closely. He sniffed it. Seriously, he stepped back and looked at Officer Stan. "It appears someone murdered a cherry pie."

  Stan's baton lowered in disappointment. "It's cherry filling?"

  "Some sort of cherry syrup."

  Stan turned around and kicked at the ground, muttering under his breath. "Cherry syrup..."

  The guys from the clinic finished strapping Granny onto the gurney and were wheeling her out.

  "I should go with her," I said, taking off my apron. "Thank you for coming over so quickly."

  Tim rested his hand on my shoulder sympathetically. "I was opening up the shop. I get a lot of fishermen in early on their way out in the morning, so I was just a few doors down. Super easy for me to run over." He looked over at where Granny had been. "What was she doing with a bunch of cherry filling in the middle of the night?" He pointed at the handprint. "Better get that cleared up before the ants find it." He then looked at the boxes. "Do you think one of them could have been leaking?"

  "Maybe," I said, shrugging. "She went for supplies yesterday. I haven't even had a chance to do an inventory."