“I’m Will,” he said. “I’m not sure we’ve been properly introduced.”
“I’m Kara, and this is Star.”
“I feel bad for not stopping by earlier, but we’ve been swamped trying to get this new business off the ground.”
“I can totally relate,” I said, still smiling like a school girl. “So what do you think of our little town so far?”
“I’ve been in town a few weeks, but haven’t ventured out much.”
“That’s too bad,” I said as I twisted my hair around my finger. “You need to get out. Sunny Shores has some very quaint, but nice restaurants.”
“So I’ve heard,” he replied. “I hate going alone. It would be nice to have someone show me around who knows their way around town.”
“That’s true,” I replied.
Star couldn’t take it anymore. So she blurted out, “He’s asking you out, dummy.”
If I wasn’t nervous enough, Star just made it ten times worse. I had no idea what to do. So I tried to play it off.“That’s sweet of you, but things are so crazy right now…”
“Don’t say another word, I understand,” Will said as he grabbed the pen from the counter. He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
Will Stark 239-555-8715
“Here’s my number if you change your mind. No pressure at all.”
As Will walked away, Star punched me on the arm and said,” Are you an idiot? That dude is hot. Why are you so afraid of moving on?”
If I had a nickel for each time someone asked about my dating life, I would be able to afford my dream restaurant. I didn’t, so the food truck was all I could afford.
“Star, I don’t think I’m ready to get back out there yet.” My undivided attention was focused on growing my business. I didn’t have time to worry about men. The last thing I wanted to do was dive head-first back into the dating pool.
“Go to dinner with him as friends. What do you have to lose? You’ll get a free meal out of the deal. Plus, it’ll help get your mind off work and more importantly, Dusty.”
“Dustin.”
“Whatever. If you don’t do it, I will.”
“He is cute.”
“So what’s the problem? Just do it.”
“Alright, I’ll go with him. But get one thing straight, it’s not a date.”
Star smiled. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“Hey Will!” I screamed, trying to get his attention as he walked back to his truck. He turned around and flashed a smile. It was almost as if he knew I’d changed my mind.
“On second thought, a friendly dinner would be nice.”
“Great! How does Thursday night work for you? We could meet at Pelican Pete’s around 9 p.m.”
I looked over at Star. She was nodding her head up and down while staring me in the eyes. I was sure she was laughing inside over my awkwardness.
“Sounds good.”
“Awesome. Can’t wait.”
I tried to stay cool, calm, and collected. “Never let them see you sweat,” as Bonnie May would say. Unfortunately, I was the complete opposite of cool, so I said the first thing that entered my mind.
“It’s a date.”
12
“Did you hear that?” I asked Star. I heard a slight noise coming from the back door of the truck.
“Hear what?” Star asked, as she continued to wash dishes in the sink.
“That noise coming from the back of the truck. It sounds like someone trying to get in.”
“I didn’t hear a thing. Are you sure you’re not being overly paranoid? Maybe your mind’s playing tricks on you?”
“Maybe so,” I said as I shrugged my shoulders. With my mother out of town on business, I had the house to myself. Due to my tendency of being a big chicken, I lacked a good night’s sleep.
“There it is again,” I shouted. I heard something for sure that time. “Turn the water off and stay still.”
Star sighed out of frustration, but obliged with my request. She turned off the water and dried her hands. “What now?”
“Shh,” I whispered, motioning for her to come over and stand by me. We stood perfectly still, not making a peep.
“Did you hear it that time?” The sound of something scratching the door echoed through the truck. Someone or something had tried getting it.
“It’s nothing,” Star said as she left my side. She walked slowly towards the back door, tip-toeing softly. The sound of scratching and clawing increased with each step Star took.
“Are you crazy?” I asked her. I reached over and picked up the first object I could get from the counter. If someone tried something, I’d mess them up real good with the wooden mixing spoon I picked up.
“I feel like we’re in the opening scene of a horror movie,” I said nervously. “And you know how those turn out.”
“Overreact, much?” Star giggled as she reached out her hand and opened the door. Lacking any hope of successfully defending myself, I closed my eyes.
Meow.
“It’s just Mr. Whiskers,” Star said. Star reached down and picked the cat up.
"Are you feeding that stray cat again?"
"He's so sweet," Star said. She opened the door of the truck, bent down, and began to pet the cat. "Come on, Kara. Just listen to him purr."
I couldn't lie… The cat was adorable. I often wondered why he didn't have a home.
"Why don't you just take him home with you?" I asked. "I don't think anyone would stop you from adopting him.”
"I wish. I would take him in a heartbeat," she said, as she continued to pet him. "My landlord doesn't allow pets."
“Be careful not to let him in. We can’t have a stray cat spray his germs inside the truck. The health inspector would shut us down for sure. She’s not a fan.”
“Knock Knock,” a voice called out.
When I noticed who it was, I sprung out of the van and ran outside to greet him with a big hug.
“It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you,” I said as I placed my arms around his neck.
That familiar voice was none other than Kyle Harris. Kyle was a childhood friend of mine who lived two houses down from me. It was not uncommon for Kyle, Ty, and I to play outside until after dark every night, at least until our moms called for us to come inside from the back porch.
I’d not seen him for a few years now, but he looked almost exactly the same. Kyle was tall and skinny, with dark thick framed glasses. He wore that type of glasses well before hipsters made them cool.
Kyle’s father, Harold Harris, owned Sunny Shores Insurance and Trust. If you needed car, homeowner’s, life, or any other type of insurance, it was the place to go. With Kyle’s father not aging too well, Kyle took over the day-to-day operations of the business.
“How’s the food truck business?” he said as he stepped back and examined the outside of my truck. “Burger She Wrote, eh? That’s hilarious.”
One of the many games we played as kids included pretending to be sleuths. Kyle, Ty, and I would run around the neighborhood solving imaginary crimes we concocted in our minds. We weren’t too original though, because most of our ideas came from Encyclopedia Brown novels and Scooby Doo cartoons.
“So, have you solved the case of John Harmon’s murder?”
“Who, me? Why would you think I’d be interested in doing that?”
Kyle pointed to the name decal on my truck. “Really?” Where would I ever get such an idea?”
I tried to hold back a grin, but was unsuccessful. “Fair enough. You caught me.”
That’s one of the great things about friendship. Whether you consider it a blessing or a curse, a true friend can look through your B.S. and get to the truth.
Kyle took a sip of his cherry limeade and said, “It’s a good thing Mrs. Harmon doubled John’s life insurance policy last month. She should be set for life.”
My ears turned up and I did a double-take to make sure I heard him correctly.
/> “Are you saying Missy increased her husband’s life insurance policy recently? As in right before his murder?”
Kyle slapped his right hand on his forehead. “I probably should have kept that bit of info to myself.”
“Probably,” I said as I shook my head in agreement. “However, you could look at it another way. One could argue that nugget of information is important evidence that shouldn’t be ignored.”
“True,” he said, as he looked around nervously. It was as if he wanted to make sure no one was listening.
I couldn’t blame him for being careful. Who knew who might listen? In fact, my truck could have been bugged. Star installed the camera system without me knowing. There was no telling what else she could have done.
He reached his head over the counter and whispered, “A large majority of his estate was already tied up to another beneficiary. It was in her best interest to take out a large policy on her husband, especially if she wanted to continue the same lifestyle after his death.”
“Another beneficiary, are you sure?”
“I’m one-hundred percent positive, Kara.”
He glanced at his watch and realized he lost track of the time.
“I’ve got to run. My next appointment is in ten minutes.”
As Kyle walked away, Star returned from the store and entered the truck.
“Who was that?” she said. “Another nerdy friend of yours?”
“Nerdy friends? What are you trying to say?”
“It’s not an insult,” Star explained as she placed the grocery bags on the counter. “Being nerdy is in nowadays.”
I laughed. “That’s good to know.”
“Besides, he’s kinda cute.”
13
Before Star allowed me to have dinner that night with Will, she insisted that I do something with my hair. As much as I protested the thought of going to the beauty salon, Star wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. So I made an appointment to the only beauty salon I knew in town.
Cookie Pearson owned Cookie's Beauty Salon located on Dune Drive, a mile east of downtown. I remembered Cookie's Salon from as long back as childhood. My mother visited her shop a few times a year to get her perm, back when perms were a thing.
I grew up a tomboy, so I hated going with my mother to the beauty shop. So much, in fact, that I brought my Walkman and listened to music the entire time. Even then, the music wasn't enough to drown out the constant gossiping and bickering.
I preferred going with my father to Pappy's Barbershop. I received my hair cuts there growing up. It drove my mother nuts. My dad found it hilarious, though.
I wasn't trying to be rebellious. Pappy's atmosphere was more laid back and relaxed. Although the men would mainly talk sports, they were known to gossip as well. At least the men were light-hearted in their gossiping, unlike the women, who sounded petty and jealous.
"Look everyone, little Kara Summers is back," Cookie called out as Star and I entered the shop. I intended to slip in quietly, but the loud cowbell attached to the doorknob thought otherwise.
"Have a seat over there, dear," she said as she pointed to a set of empty chairs in the corner. "I'll be with you in a bit."
"Like I was saying," Cookie said as she continued the conversation we’d interrupted. "She's been strutting around town like her… you know what… doesn't stink."
Cookie was talking as she took the rollers out of Ms. Tara Holmes’s hair. Apparently, perms still were a thing in Sunny Shores after all. I missed the memo on that one.
Tara Holmes's late husband, Barney, owned the site that the old Sunny Shores orange juice factory sat on. After his passing, Tara tried selling the land, which was prime real estate close to the beach. A group of investors planned to build a resort in the area. Unfortunately for her, and her pocketbook, the town council voted against it.
"I don't think I've seen her wear black once," Tara interjected. "I don't know how they do things in Tampa, but we have class here in Sunny Shores. I don't know who she thinks she is."
"Yep," Cookie replied. "You can take away the trailer, but you can never remove the trailer trash."
"I know that's right," Tara replied.
"Seems a little harsh," Star said. Star liked playing devil's advocate and stirring the pot. She wasn't defending Missy Harmon. She couldn't have cared less. "People grieve in different ways. We don't know what lies inside her."
"Or whom…" Tara said as she began to giggle.
Cookie let out an audible groan. "That's awful, Tara. You shouldn't talk that way around these young girls."
Star smiled. "Kara's not that young."
"Do you really believe Missy cheated on John?" I asked while ignoring Star's comment.
"Rumors of her adulteress acts started from the day her tacky high heels touched the ground in Sunny Shores," Cookie said. "In fact, I saw it with my very own eyes in the last week."
"No you didn't," Tara replied. "I think the fumes in here are getting to your head."
Cookie tapped her feet in frustration. "I certainly did," she said as she raised her voice.
"Where?"
"Do you remember when I needed to run to Lake City last week?”
"Yes."
"On my way back, I passed the Cozy Cove Motel," Cookie explained as she turned to me. "I like to slow down when I pass by, as a lot of seedy activities take place there. You never know what you’ll see."
"What did you see?"
"I saw Missy Harmon and a young man, both walking into one of the rooms."
"Oh, really?" Tara said as she groaned. It was clear she doubted Cookie's story. "Who was this mysterious young man?"
"I couldn't tell. I only saw the back of him."
"How convenient," Tara said. “Are you sure you didn’t stop by Jack’s Liquor Store on the way there? “
“I did, but that’s beside the point,” Cookie said as she turned my way again. “I like to have a drink every now and again. Dr. Bill said it’s good for the heart.”
“I don’t think he was referring to whisky.”
“Oh hush.” Cookie tapped her foot louder. "I'm telling you, Tara, it's the truth."
The bickering between Cookie and Tara began to give me a headache. I spoke up. I figured it was my only chance.
“If most of the town knew about Missy’s transgressions, wouldn’t John know as well?” I asked. “How could he not get sick of it after a while?”
“The councilman was anything but innocent himself,” Tara said. “John’s habit of visiting strip clubs and spending thousands continued on after his marriage. Those two fought all the time. The relationship was toxic to say the least.”
Cookie and Tara verified the information Bonnie May provided earlier.
“Those two made little effort to hide their issues. They were known to air their dirty laundry out in the open,” Cookie said as she continued to style Tara’s hair, if you could call it that.
“Just the other day, Hailey Hopkins stopped by for a trim. She and her husband Harold are neighbors of John and Missy. She told me she heard screaming and fighting coming from the Harmons’s estate the other night. She contemplated calling the police because of how loud they were.”
“Interesting,” I replied. Finally, something substantial out of those two, I thought.
Star cut to the point. “So you think the hussy killed him?” Star said with a sarcastic tone, although they failed to pick it up.
“I’ll tell you this. I don’t believe for one minute it was an accident,” Cookie responded as she pointed a hair-roller at Star. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“Who knows, really,” Tara chimed in. “With the amount of enemies that man collected over the years, the killer could have been any number of people. His wife, step-son, mistress, or anyone in town with a pulse could have done it.”
Cookie kicked the pedal on the chair and spun Tara around to face the mirror. “So what do you think?” Cookie asked as she revealed Tara’s perm. Tara’s hair looked l
ike it was pulled out of the 1980’s.
Star turned to me and whispered, “What is that thing on her head? A dead poodle?”
I tried to fight it, but failed. I snickered. “I think it’s her hair.”
Star looked up and stared at my hair and smirked. At first, I failed to understand her intent.
“What is it? Is there something in my hair?” I asked. I rubbed my fingers through to make sure.
Star didn’t answer. Instead, she looked in the direction of Tara’s hair and back to mine. After she repeated this a few times, I got the hint.
There was no way on earth that woman was getting close to touching my hair. I preferred my frumpy style to the act of torture Cookie performed on Tara’s hair.
Without saying a word to each other, we both realized our only course of action. We had to split. Gathering our things quietly, we tiptoed toward the door. Cookie and Tara were engrossed in their argument, and wouldn’t have a clue we left.
Wrong.
“Where are you two going?” Cookie asked. We were busted. “I’m done with Tara. You’re up next.”
I needed an out without hurting her feelings. So I did what any self-respecting Southern girl would do. I told a little fib.
“I’m sorry, Cookie. Food truck emergency. Maybe another time?”
“Just let me know, dear,” Cookie said as she waved goodbye. “I’m pretty much open all month. It’s strange. Bookings have been down lately.”
I couldn’t imagine why.
“So what now?” Star asked as we walked to her car. “I hoped we could do something about that hair of yours. Regardless of how much enjoyment I’d receive looking at you, even I couldn’t let you do that to yourself.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
Dinner time was approaching. The Burger She Wrote truck needed a few more tasks completed before dinner time. Still, I wanted answers. I knew exactly where I needed to go next.
“If you don’t mind, could you head back to Grove Park? I need you to start getting things ready for the dinner rush. I’ll be along shortly.”
“OK, but where do you need to go?”
I smiled. “It’s time to pay an old friend a visit.”
Key Lime Crime: Sunny Shores Mysteries Book 1 Page 6
