by K E O'Connor
“No, but I’ve got pasta salad in the fridge. I must admit, it doesn’t excite me.”
“We should go to the diner.” Jen’s blue eyes sparkled.
The diner was good. Laura had a mean cauliflower wings recipe that tasted just like chicken. Accompanied with her curly fries and gravy, it was delicious. “I could handle that.”
“You’ll absolutely want to go.” Jen leaned over the desk. “I heard a rumor we need to check out.”
I raised my eyebrows. “So, spill. What did you hear?”
“The police were called out.”
“I saw the car go by,” I said. “What’s that got to do with the diner?”
“Nothing directly,” Jen said. “I was in there earlier getting a coffee to go and overheard some gossip.”
“And?”
Jen leaned even closer. “Laura thinks there’s been a murder.”
Chapter 2
For a second, I was too surprised to speak. “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you came in? Who’s dead?”
“I’m telling you now!” Jen said. “It’s Bert Figgins.”
Bert had retired to Zee Town after a successful career as a golfer and set up a golfing supplies store so he could follow his passion and make money from visiting golf fanatics. He’d been raised here but had moved away once he’d hit the big time. Bert was wealthy, in his late fifties, and a recent divorcee. I also knew Bert because his store sponsored the carnival floats this year. We’d had several meetings to discuss sponsorship logos for Figgins Golfing Supplies.
“You think he was murdered?” I asked. “It wasn’t a heart attack?” Bert liked his late nights, greasy burgers, women, and wine. It wouldn’t surprise me if his hard living had caught up with him.
“Apparently so,” Jen said. “His body was found on the golf course. It’s worrying, actually. From what I overheard, the police think zombies are involved.”
I glanced at Zara and the zombie who still sat in the reception area nursing his beef broth. “What makes them think that?”
“Bite marks,” Jen said. “Around Bert’s neck and on his arms.”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Why would zombies want Bert dead? And if it had been a zombie, wouldn’t Bert be turning by now?”
The virus that made people zombies was an odd one. We all carried it. Once caught, some people became the scary kind of zombie that bit, snarled, and terrified people. Others became shambling, slower versions of themselves. And some of us, like Jen, stayed the same.
However, a bite from a zombie could reactivate the virus in your system. If you got bitten, you had a fifty-fifty chance of becoming a scary zombie. We called them rabid zombies. No one liked a rabid zombie.
“Bert might be turning into a zombie as we speak,” Jen said. “Which is why we need to go to the diner for lunch and find out more.”
“Yes, I think we do.” I stood and grabbed my purse, smoothing down my multi-colored summer dress. “With Bert dead, it could mess up the carnival sponsorship. At this late stage, I won’t be able to get anyone else to step in and sponsor the floats.”
“And of course, there is a dead man to think about,” Jen said, a shrewd look on her face.
I grimaced, realizing I’d had my business head on a little too tight. “You’re right. Poor Bert.”
Jen’s grin broadened. “We all know what he was like. An old letch and a womanizer. He still didn’t deserve to die.”
I nodded. During one of our meetings, Bert had got a bit hands-on with me, but a strong rebuke had sent him back to his side of the desk. He hadn’t tried anything else. Still, he had at least one ex-wife and a much younger girlfriend. He wasn’t known for his monogamous ways. Could his womanizing have caught up with him?
“It’s definitely time for lunch.” I turned to Zara. “Are you okay to stay here? You can lock the door if you don’t want to deal with people.”
Zara turned her head, her gray eyes looking more bloodshot than usual. This definitely wasn’t one of her better days. “I’ll be fine.”
“Keep an eye on our friend.” I pointed to the zombie in the reception area. “Make sure he can get out if he wants to.”
Zara nodded slowly and turned to stare vacantly at the wall in front of her.
I left the office with Jen, knowing that Zara could be trusted. She might not always answer the phone, but when she was in good form, she did a great job of keeping the office tidy and making sure the mail got out on time.
We walked the short distance along Harbor Lane and headed toward Lovely’s Diner. The streets were busy, the summer sunshine bringing people out to enjoy the fresh sea air and inspect the stores. You won’t find a chain store in the whole town. It was another thing that made Zee Town so unique and utterly amazing.
We entered the diner, and had to wait for a table. Perhaps the rumor about Bert’s murder had brought people in to find out more. Just like us.
I waved at Laura who was serving behind the counter, her light brown hair tucked under a red dotted headscarf. She noticed me and gave a nod before gesturing to the back of the diner.
“There might be seats at the back.” I grabbed Jen’s hand, and we weaved through the tables. I spotted two empty seats squashed into a corner. It wasn’t the ideal location, but I was happy to sit and listen to any gossip about Bert.
After a ten-minute wait, Debbie Bakewell hurried to our table, swiping a hand across her forehead and giving us a tired smile. “Sorry for the wait. What will it be, ladies?”
Debbie was fresh out of college and had returned to Zee Town once she’d graduated. Her family lived here, and although it was only a small town, with not great employment opportunities, she was determined to stay.
“I’ll have the cauliflower wings with gravy and curly fries,” I said.
“Make that two,” Jen said. “And two iced teas.”
“There’ll be a bit of a wait,” Debbie said. “As you can see, we’ve got a crowd in today. More regulars than usual for a Friday.”
“Are they here to find out about Bert?” Jen asked in a conspiratorial whisper.
Debbie shrugged. “Either that or they’ve discovered how amazing Laura’s triple chocolate gateau is. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“She’s right about Laura’s gateau,” I said. “It’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted. We should get some for dessert.”
“Look! There’s Bill Guthrie at the counter,” Jen said. “He should be in his store. And earlier on, Selina was here. I knew she had patients waiting. We’re not the only ones snooping.”
I looked around the diner, admiring its sea themed blue walls and the smattering of sea shells on each table. It was a compact space with room for fifteen tables. Every table was full. I recognized some diners, but a lot were from out of town.
My gaze rested briefly on the pictures lining the walls. Most of them displayed newspaper clippings announcing the creation of Zee Town as a refuge for placid zombies. The rest showed the awards Laura won for her delicious baking.
“Tell me everything you’ve heard about Bert’s murder?” I asked Jen. “There were definitely zombie bites on him?”
“That’s what I heard Nick saying to the new cop, Alex.”
“There’s a new police officer in town?” Nick Morton was the police sergeant, and for all his good looks, he ruined them by being grumpy, sullen, and always means to me.
“There is. And he’s cute,” Jen said. “Tall, blond, and handsome. And he has a body to die for.”
“You’ve seen his body?”
Jen laughed. “No, but I had a good leer at him in his uniform. He fits it nicely.”
“Is he single?”
“I only saw him for about two minutes,” Jen said. “But I didn’t notice a wedding ring on his finger.”
I grinned broadly. Jen was forever on the hunt for her perfect guy. Actually, make that our perfect guys, since we were terminally single. “Other than leering at the new officer, what did you overhear?
”
“He was discovered in a sand bunker early this morning by his brother, Colin. Along with the bite marks, there was bruising on the body,” Jen said, “as if Bert had been hit with something before being bitten.”
“That doesn’t sound like a zombie attack,” I said. “They just bite. You get the occasional gouge marks on the victim’s flesh, but they don’t punch. They go in with teeth and nails. Usually for the throat—if they can get a clean bite.”
Jen shuddered. “It’s freaky how you’re so calm about all this zombie eating business.”
“We’ve been around them so long, I’m used to it. You should be, too.”
I grew up with Jen. We’d lived through first love, heartbreak, bullying, and zombie attacks together.
“You were never freaked out about it,” Jen said. “You’ve always been spookily calm around them. Even when the zombies first emerged and the rabid ones tried to take over.”
I shrugged. “I don’t love those kinds of zombies, but they were doing what was natural. It was unfortunate that we are their primary food source.”
I nodded thanks to Debbie as she placed our drinks down before hurrying away to clear a vacated table. Jen was right, I was spookily calm around both kinds of zombies.
A few moments later, Laura walked over with our breaded cauliflower wings and curly fries in gravy.
“Sorry for the wait. This place is crazy.” She set the plates on the table and laid out knives and forks.
Laura had been running the diner for as long as I could remember. She was in her early forties, more than a decade older than me, and we’d been friends for years. Laura was my voice of reason when I got hot headed. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, Laura was there with wise words and an excellent slice of homemade cake to set me on the right path.
“We were talking about Bert,” I said to her.
“Oh, it’s so sad.” Laura adjusted the spotted scarf on her head. “There’s a rumor going around that zombies are involved.”
“I don’t believe that,” I said. “We’d know if a rabid zombie had gotten into town. The alarm system would have triggered if someone came in with authorization. If they don’t have a heartbeat when they walk through the scanner at the border, they get stopped.” That was the main way Zee Town stayed safe. We had the sea at our back, hills to the side, and an amazing border patrol system that monitored everyone coming in—living or undead.
“Maybe one slipped in with all the tourists?” Laura suggested. “After all, our population numbers shoot up every time we hold one of your fabulous events.”
“Would a rabid zombie be smart enough to slip in like that?” A look of concern crossed Jen’s face.
“No way,” I said. “They wouldn’t be able to control themselves around so much temptation. They aren’t smart enough to sneak into Zee Town. Besides, why would they want to?”
“It is the zombie capital of the world,” Laura said, with a smile. “Maybe they fancied a holiday. Zombies love the seaside, too.”
I grinned and nodded, before sampling one of Laura’s excellent curly fries, seasoned to perfection with salt, pepper, and a dash of cayenne.
“Have you got any zombies in today?” Jen looked around the diner. “I don’t see the regulars.”
“Sure! Our zombie clientele are out the back this week in the private party area. Given all the tourists about, I didn’t want to make the zombies into too much of a spectacle. It only makes them nervous if they draw lots of attention,” Laura said. “I set up five tables in the courtyard and locked the door so they’re safe. You know what the tourists can be like; they prod the zombies like zoo animals hoping to get exciting footage to post online.”
Jen tutted and shook her head. “Anyone would think the zombies are here for their entertainment.”
I paused at that comment. We did exploit the fact that Zee Town was home to the largest colony of placid zombies in the world. It was what made Zee Town wealthy. There were even rumors of a zombie theme park being built, which we all objected to.
“I’m keeping a close eye on Zara as well,” I said. “The tourists make her anxious. She’s not been able to do much more than fold a few letters today and spent the rest of the time staring at the wall.”
“I’m keeping Audrey out of the way for the same reason. It’ll be over soon enough.” Laura lowered her voice and leaned closer. “We can take the tourist’s money, give them the show they want, and then return to normal. Our zombies will be safe, and our coffers will be full.”
“The carnival is great for business,” I said. “I’m already thinking about our winter celebration. The Council wants a Christmas themed zombie grotto.”
Laura wrinkled her nose. “I’m not so sure about that. Zombies at Christmas?”
I rubbed my forehead. “A jolly Santa zombie is something I can’t get my head around either.”
The bell at the counter dinged, and Laura turned. “Better go! Hungry mouths to feed.” She waved us a brief goodbye before hurrying to the counter to her waiting customers.
Jen and I got to work on our delicious cauliflower wings and fries.
“We should drop in at the police station,” Jen said, after she’d demolished half her food. “We could ask about Bert and see if there are any leads?”
“Nick won’t tell us anything,” I said. “He’ll threw us out and tell us to mind our business. You know what he’s like.” I had a hate-hate relationship with Nick. He was mean and grumpy, and considered me annoying and too nosy for my own good. He told me that all the time, which was plain rude.
“Nick has got the sense of humor of a rabid zombie,” Jen said. “But, you know, he’s not all that bad when he lets his guard down.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, if you get past the grumpiness, he’s hot,” Jen said, before stuffing a curly fry into her mouth and grinning at me.
“Looks fade,” I said. “I’m sure he’s going gray.”
Jen laughed. “You’ve been checking him out!”
My cheeks flushed. “I have not.” Nick was gorgeous, but way too sullen for my liking.
“We should go in and say hello to the new officer. I could introduce the two of you. Maybe you’ll like him instead of Nick.” Jen waggled her eyebrows at me.
“Oh, no,” I said. “We’re not chasing after the same guy. He’s all yours. You said he was cute.”
“Sure. When I saw him, I wanted to drool. I’m too busy for a relationship, what with the salon and volunteering at the shelter. And you haven’t been on a date in ages.”
“I’m busy too. I’ve got the carnival to sort out.” Jen was right. It had been a while since I’d dated. I hadn’t had so much as a mug of coffee with a cute guy in a long time.
“Which you can do in your sleep, you’ve been doing it for so long,” Jen said.
“Which reminds me.” A change of subject was needed before Jen married me off. “I have to confirm if the sponsorship is still happening. If not, I’m in trouble.”
“Bert’s given you the check for the carnival sponsorship?” Jen asked.
“No. I was picking it up tomorrow and had planned to give Bert a tour of the floats.” I dropped my napkin on my now empty plate. “I need to get this sorted out and fast.”
“Which gives us the perfect excuse to go to the station and ask about Bert,” Jen said. “You have to know what’s going on, especially since Bert was so involved in the carnival. You don’t want to do anything distasteful that might upset his family.”
“Like snoop around in a possible murder that has nothing to do with us?” Even though I was hesitating, I could never resist a mystery.
“We’re not snooping. We’re concerned citizens.”
“I don’t think Nick will believe that.” I stood and grabbed my purse. “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.” I paid Laura for our lunch and said goodbye before leaving the diner.
We walked along the busy streets, tourists bustling along the cobblest
ones and dripping ice cream from their cones. I enjoyed the pleasant feel of the sun on my skin as we walked.
In Cornwall, we had beautiful weather. It was one of the few places in the country where you could successfully grow lemons. I had a tiny tree propagating in my back garden. It was our little version of paradise, zombies included.
Jen’s cell phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket. “Oh, no.”
“Problem?” I asked.
“Martha’s lost a hand,” Jen said. “I’m needed at the salon. I may need to call Selena in on this one. I’m happy doing patch repairs but reattaching limbs is beyond me.”
I smiled and shook my head. Jen was always helping zombies fix missing fingers, repair lost bits of flesh, and hide gray skin. She’d even been known to give them a glass eyeball or two to help them fit in and not be stared at.
“You go to the salon. I need to get back to the office, anyway,” I said.
“We’re still going to meet that hot new police officer at some point,” Jen yelled as she hurried toward her salon.
I checked to see if anyone had heard her indiscreet comment before making my way to the office, dodging around the crowds that milled about, stopping to read the plaques on the buildings dedicated to brave individuals who’d died during the zombie outbreak, or listing notable figures who’d helped end the uprising and set up this zombie haven.
Inside the office, I found Zara alone. “Did our friend get bored?” I dumped my purse on the floor and sat in my desk chair.
“He’s gone.” Zara nodded slowly. “He drank his broth.”
“That’s good,” I said. “We need to look after our zombies.”
Zara nodded again.
“Any calls while I was out?”
“Lots.”
“Any you picked up?”
“Not this time.”
I shrugged. “Well, if it’s important, they’ll call back.”
I opened my email, checked there was nothing urgent, and spent the next hour checking proof copies of our latest carnival flyer. I pressed print on the laptop, and five hundred copies of the flyer churned out.
