“That explains it!”
“Explains what?”
“Sometimes when you go down the rabbit hole, you hum. I couldn’t quite make out the tune, but it didn’t sound like one I had heard before. Now I understand why.”
“At times, I wish I’d never heard it. If I hadn’t been swept up by the song and the gesture of love it represented, I might have been more concerned about events that night at the bar. It never crossed my mind that we were in any real danger.”
I felt myself drifting away into the past, carried off by that melody playing in my head. Love notes, I had called them back then. “Yes, love notes, Georgie, written in the key of sea,” Danny had said one night, taking in the Pacific Ocean with a sweep of his arm. We were sitting on the beach at sunset in Corsario Cove, where he played that song for me on a guitar. A scene we often repeated before that awful last evening at the beach. The sudden ringing of the alarm I had set jarred me back into the moment. I jumped up out of my seat!
“It’s okay,” Jack said, as he stood and put an arm around my shoulders. “Sit down. I’ll get the lasagna. I’ll be right back, and you’ll have to tell me what you meant. You said something about love notes and the key of C. Was that a unique key for composers to use?”
I must have uttered those words aloud without realizing it. I flashed on an image of that guitar, smashed to bits, not that long after the incident at the bar. Try as I might, I could not remember how the guitar had ended up like that or how the blood got on it—even though some of it was mine.
“Key of ‘sea,’ as in the ocean, not the letter ‘C,'” I called out as Jack silenced the timer. When he stepped into the dining room with the lasagna, I explained. “Love Notes in the Key of Sea is the name Danny gave that song—my song. He was playing it again, that night on the beach in Corsario Cove when someone attacked us.”
3 Gut Check
When I arrived at work the next day, I was in a funk. The distressing news about Meredith’s assault had put me on edge. Or maybe it was rehashing my close call with death at her age. My astute administrative assistant, Carol, picked up on it right away.
“Uh-oh, don’t tell me you and Rockford had your first lover’s quarrel!”
“No, and it’s a little too soon to call a disagreement between us that. We’re friends.”
“You’re in denial. It’s way more than friendship if you ask me. Jack Wheeler’s in here with a smile on his face several times a week. I’m always surprised to see that his feet are touching the ground since I swear he walks on air around you. You have more than a little spring in your step these days, too.” Carol smiled. Then the smile was replaced by mock shock. “No, wait. Please don’t tell me another one of your dates ended in a search for a murder weapon or something like that?”
“Something like that, I guess. I’m stressed out, but it has nothing to do with my relationship with Jack. Jennifer’s daughter has had some trouble in North Carolina and is coming home.” I filled Carol in on what had happened. Not that I had many details to share.
“That explains why Jennifer didn’t seem like herself yesterday. She called trying to reach you, but you had just left for home. From what you’re saying, it sounds as if there’s a serial killer on the loose stalking coeds. Jennifer’s lucky her daughter is still alive.”
“Yes, she is. Jennifer’s getting Meredith out of there for a while and bringing her home to San Albinus. I’m going to spend a few days in Corsario Cove to support them.”
“Yikes! That’s not good. I know you can’t be looking forward to that even though Jennifer’s been a close friend for a long time. You’ve avoided the place like the plague.” I looked at the floor, trying to figure out how to respond. My past was no deep secret, but if I avoided anything like the plague, it was talking about it. Before I could come up with anything else to say, Carol spoke. Her tone was soft—not teasing me at all as she had done moments earlier about Jack.
“I understand why after reading old news accounts of what happened there.” I did not try to hide my surprise.
“What?” she asked. “You know I’m a news junkie and a snoop. I like to pretend someone invented the Internet just for me.”
“I do know that. What’s surprising to me is that you could find much. It’s hardly news. It’s been decades since I had that trouble on the beach.”
“Trouble is putting it mildly, Georgie. You never told me how harrowing that evening was all those years ago. Meredith’s not the only one who’s lucky to be alive. It’s not entirely old news, either. There’s been an ongoing dispute about a group of surfers who live in what sounds like a hobo camp in the woods near the resort.”
“Not hobos. Surfers. Camp’s about right, though, since Sanctuary Grove, as they call it, is rustic. Tents and lean-tos, about the size of a storage shed.” I shrugged. “Some people are really into that little grass shack lifestyle. They’ve been there since I was a kid. That doesn’t make them killers.”
“When they built the resort several years ago, things heated up in San Albinus because the resort developers agreed to let the Sanctuary Grove residents stay put. Not that the developers had any choice since it was a condition of sale. The monks who owned the area in and around Corsario Cove refused to sell the land for the resort until the developers consented to allow access to the beach by the occupants of the camp.”
“Jennifer told me something about the deal made on behalf of the Sanctuary Grove villagers when they broke ground on the resort. She was quite excited about the resort, convinced it would put San Albinus on the map, so I guess she didn’t object to the surfers’ presence.”
“Not everyone felt the same way. Some of your old neighbors in San Albinus were livid about it. They complained that the beach was unsafe if drifters could come and go as they pleased. Your name came up as a warning about what had already occurred on the beach—a brutal assault and a murder case that was never solved. They blamed it on transients hanging out in that camp who escaped before the police could catch them.”
“I don’t believe what happened to me had anything to do with Sanctuary Grove or the people in it. One or more local men were at the beach that evening. The angry neighbors didn’t bring that up, did they? I’m not sure why I find that upsetting, but I do.”
“I understand what you’re getting at, and I agree. It’s not fair to pin a crime like that on the wrong person. Besides, if they do that, the real murderous thug is still out there. One story I read did mention locals. It pointed out that your fiancé and Mark Harwell, the man who turned up dead on the beach, had a previous altercation in a local bar.”
“That’s true,” I said. “Mark Harwell and his brother were both at the bar one night and had words with Danny. It bothered me, but it was just what the Harwell brothers and their friends did when they were out together—especially if they’d had a few drinks. After I was assaulted, the police found the Harwell’s truck parked nearby. Mark never went anywhere without his brother, so I’m sure Tommy must have been with him. Not that I remember seeing either one of them. Memory loss is one of the more frustrating aftereffects of the assault.”
“Maybe you remember more than you think you do. Besides, if it was locals who attacked you, that’s not any better than drifters. It could even be worse if whoever did this is still around. Do you avoid the place because you’re afraid Tommy Harwell is still alive?”
“That might have been true at first, Carol, but not after the years dragged on and on,” I said despite the shiver that ran through me as she asked that question. “I wish I could remember what happened that night. Some parts of that last evening with Danny have come back, but I have no conscious memories of Mark or Tommy Harwell joining us or how Mark ended up dead.” I paused. As I said that, an image flashed through my mind. Danny’s guitar, moving through the air. Then, another flash and that guitar is lying on the beach, broken. Carol was peering at me, about to speak. I fought to clear my head of its foggy images.
“My rational mind
tells me if Tommy Harwell was there, he took off. It’s odd that he left his truck behind, I’ll admit that much. I find it impossible to believe that he remained in the area. He couldn’t have hidden out all these years in a town as small as San Albinus without causing more trouble or someone turning him in. My parents and Danny’s parents offered a sizeable reward for information about what had happened at the beach, and any clues to the whereabouts of Danny Ferrell or Tommy Harwell. Besides, if Tommy Harwell is still around he’s a senior citizen at this point and not likely to be the hothead he was then.”
“That doesn’t mean he’d be any happier to get caught. From what you’ve said, he and his brother weren’t the only ones at the bar when Tommy Harwell hassled Danny. If you’re right about Tommy Harwell leaving town, he might have had to ask his pals for help. He and Mark might not have been the only locals involved in that attack.”
“You could be right. You could be right. Tommy’s sidekicks seemed less bent on destruction than he and Mark were, but one of them might have helped Tommy leave town out of a misguided sense of loyalty. That was the whole point behind the offer of a reward, though. It’s hard to believe that anyone in his crowd would withhold information from the police with a substantial incentive dangling in front of them.”
“I don’t find it hard to believe at all. Once everyone found out that Mark was dead, helping Tommy escape became more than misplaced loyalty. That’s aiding and abetting or an accessory to murder. The prospect of going to prison was probably worse than forgoing that reward.” I nodded.
“Maybe. Something like that could be behind my uneasiness. Honestly, I’m not sure why I don’t like the idea of returning to Corsario Cove even after all these years. It’s more a gut feeling rather than anything logical. At least, I won’t be going alone. Jack has agreed to be my escort. I’ll share our discussion with him before we go.”
“Ooh, I didn’t realize when you said friends you meant friends with benefits.” Her pixie face lit up as she slipped back into the tone of voice she uses when taunting me.
“Oh, stop it, Carol. Now you’re jumping to conclusions. This visit is no romantic tryst we’re planning. Jennifer’s daughter has been through an ordeal, and that’s been tough on Jennifer too. I just hope I can keep it together and offer them both a little support despite my aversion to being back in Corsario Cove.”
“Well, be careful. I’d listen to your gut. Even with Rockford there to watch your back.” Carol was not joking. Not even a little bit.
“Good grief! If you’re trying to cheer me up, it’s not working.”
“I’m telling you to be safe rather than sorry. There’s so much that’s not clear about what happened to you or why. Who knows what you were mixed up in then or now? If something doesn’t feel right, do a gut check, and go with your gut.
“Okay.” I sighed heavily. “Will do. Promise!” I gave her a little three-fingered Girl Scout salute. That seemed to satisfy Carol who finally shifted to telling me about what was on the agenda for the rest of the day. I tried to pay attention, but my mind wandered. When someone walked up behind me, I jumped.
“Delivery for Georgie Shaw,” the young man said.
“That’s me,” I said trying to recover from the jolt of adrenalin that had just coursed through my veins.
“Wow!” Carol exclaimed. “Rockford never misses a beat!”
The bouquet of flowers was lovely. There was something familiar about them—not because of anything I had received from Jack already. Jack loves to send flowers, these were a bit different. Sprays of baby’s breath, rosy pink snapdragons, big blue blooms and tiny daisies—wildflowers in an unstructured arrangement. I still had my purse with me and dug out a tip for the delivery guy. When I took that bouquet from him, I searched for a note card. Nothing.
“No note?”
“No.”
“Well, nobody’s perfect.” She paused for a few seconds, then brightened. “You want me to chase down that delivery guy and see if he still has it?”
“No. Your day is as busy as mine. They must be from Jack. Who else would send me flowers?”
“Why don’t I find a vase for them? Then I’ll bring them to your office, okay?”
“That would be lovely. Thanks!” Carol took those flowers and dashed off to a break room or storage area. I’m not sure where things like vases get stashed around here. As I stepped out of Carol's office, I turned to head down a little hallway that led to my executive suite when a voice cried out.
“Ms. Shaw! Ms. Shaw! It’s me. I got the job!” That voice came from the elevator in the lobby where a seven-foot bear stood with an enormous grin on his face. Buddy Bear wasn’t the one speaking. It was Bobo Bear, his smaller companion. Bobo ran toward me, his oversized bear feet making that run a little awkward. Jaunty though.
“It’s me, Eddie Winkler. I got the job. I’m a Bobo Bear now, see?” With that, he executed a little dance that all the Bobo Bear characters at Marvelous Marley World learned to do for their audition. His rendition was perfect.
Eddie was the nephew of a colleague. He’d started out in a Paw-Paw Pantry outlet, a shop in Arcadia Park where they sell candy, pies, and other baked goods. Eddie had done okay as a sale associate, but his heart wasn’t in it. One day, Eddie revealed he hoped to join the ranks of the associates who dress as Marvelous Marley World characters and roam the park performing for guests. At the urging of his supervisor and my colleague, we’d arranged a tryout for him.
“Congratulations, Eddie. I’m sure you’ll bring delight to the children who visit the park. You’re an excellent Bobo Bear as far as I can tell.”
“I hope so.” He did another little routine—this one not required of applicants for the character role. A prodigy in the making! I clapped. He bowed.
“Okay, well, I’ve got to go. I don’t want to keep Buddy Bear waiting long. I sent you something to say thanks, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to say it in person, too.” Then Bobo Bear who even as the smaller bear was still taller than me rushed my way. He used his big furry bear paws to pat me on the shoulders before he turned, kicked his feet together as he leaped into the air, and left.
I laughed as he took off. Eddie, aka Bobo Bear, had given my spirits a boost. I couldn’t resist humming along as Buddy Bear and his pal Bobo serenaded me while waiting for the elevator.
A bear’s life, it can’t be beat. A bear’s life is one big treat.
We eat honey in the spring and that makes us sing.
Pick berries in the summer, and nothing can be funner.
We go fishing in the fall and sleep all winter.
What could be better than a bear’s life?
I never know what’s going to happen next at Marvelous Marley World. It’s one of the things I like most about my job even after working for the Cat for nearly three decades.
At least I know who sent those flowers, I thought as I moved on down the hall. What a thoughtful little Bobo Bear.
4 Love Notes
The Sanctuary Resort and Spa at Corsario Cove was everything Jennifer had promised it would be. Jack and I were both dazzled by the beauty of the architecture. When we drove up to the entrance, a valet dashed to the driver’s side window the moment I stopped the car and turned off the engine. He asked for our names and entered them into a tablet-like device.
“Welcome, Ms. Shaw. It’s a pleasure to have you with us for the long weekend. May we assist you with your bags?” Two other young men approached. They wore the same valet outfits that sported ornate stitching that reflected the Spanish theme evident in the Mission-like design of the resort. The lavish hideaway was noted for the personal attention paid to guests by well-trained staff. Exactly what we hoped to achieve at Marvelous Marley World in our theme parks and resorts.
As I popped the trunk, one of the young men moved to get our luggage. Another opened the door for Jack just as my door swung open. I handed my keys to the valet and joined Jack on the curbside of a paved area that resembled the Promenade at the
center of Old Town in San Albinus. This one sported a gorgeous fountain as the focal point of a turnabout that allowed cars to circle back out to the lovely palm-lined drive that had led us to the hotel.
I paused a moment to admire the bright bougainvillea that spilled over walls to either side of the large canopy overhead. The arched entryway that led into the hotel lobby was completely open, blurring the lines between indoors and out. From where we stood, we could see straight through the lobby area to a view of the ocean beyond. In the distance, I heard gulls and a peal of laughter. A cross-breeze carried the scent of the sea to us along with a hint of pine and cypress reminiscent of my childhood. Delight and uneasiness conveyed in a single whiff of “home.”
Another valet waited near the doorway, watching us. Was the attendant waiting to escort us inside to check-in? For a moment, we made eye contact. He smiled as he pulled out his cell phone, then rushed off nearly colliding with the valet who had pulled our bags from the trunk. The young man carrying our luggage used a bit of fancy footwork to dodge the fleeing valet.
“A man on a mission,” he said, nodding in the direction his coworker had fled. “Will you follow me, please?” he asked as he strode toward the lobby.
“A man on a mission, indeed,” I harrumphed under my breath as I hustled after our guide. Not all the staff here are as well-trained as our associates at the Cat Factory, I thought, as Jack took my arm and we fell in step behind the valet.
I glanced over my shoulder at the young man who was now speaking to someone on that phone. He paused for a moment, turned and stared as if examining me head to toe. When he realized I was looking at him, he was on the move again. What’s up with him? I wondered.
“What is it?” Jack asked. I had slowed down a little, peering over my shoulder like that. I must have tugged a bit at Jack’s arm in the process.
“Oh, nothing,” I said.
Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Box Set Page 11
