Tangerine Morning: Jezzica's Story (Serenity Cove Series)

by Rita Garcia

  Zack held out the box and offered Logan a pastry and Hank poured coffee for him. Logan slumped in a chair. “The situation is getting worse. We need more manpower on the streets.”

  “I’ll put in some overtime off the clock.” Zack shoved the last bite of his pastry into his mouth.

  “We’ll double up our surveillance and see what happens. It’ll give us more ammunition for the meeting with the business owners and appease the mayor.” Logan stood and headed down the hall.

  Zack refilled his cup and ambled to the open doorway of the chief’s office. “Have a minute?”

  Logan motioned him on in. “What’s up?”

  “You’re aware of the case involving Jezzica’s husband being gunned down during a carjacking?” Logan nodded and Zack continued. “I want to order the case file and do some off duty work on it.”

  “What’s the motivation? Has something new surfaced?” Logan leaned back and eyed him closely.

  “No. I’d like to scan it and see what’s there. The fresh set of eyes factor.”

  “One stipulation. Don’t do anything that would create animosity with another department. If you find anything—come to me first.”

  “You have my word.” He left, but instead of heading to his own office, he detoured back outside and hopped in his truck.

  He toured the town, trying to see it from a criminal’s view instead of his trained police surveillance. He drove the main streets, then veered onto some less traveled roads, and even took a swing by Mick’s Bar. Then he inspected the areas behind the shops. He took notes of open doors and raised windows facing the alleyway. Many of the business owners would need to take tighter precautions.

  On Main Street, he parked in front of Jezzica’s shop. He was intrigued by the lovely owner of the bookshop—and wanted to know her better. The rub, as his grandfather would say, was how to convince her that being a detective shouldn’t rule him out as a guy of interest.

  Chapter Eight

  Catylen sat in the passenger seat as her sister maneuvered the car onto Shoreview Drive. “If you don’t hear anything by morning, I think you should tell the police what’s going on with Jackson.” Catylen adjusted the strap on her seat belt.

  “I would never intentionally put either of us in danger. Even if the killers had something to do with Jackson’s disappearance, how would they know where to find me?” They’d know. These criminals were not small-time hoods. They were part of a larger operation. The detectives assigned to the case had shared her opinion—the main reason they gave her for not being successful in finding the murderers. The organization would have simply transplanted the men elsewhere.

  They arrived at the Chantilly Rose restaurant, located in the Sea Crest Inn. Jezzica lowered the volume on her anxious thoughts allowing them to simmer, but like a pot placed on a back burner over a low flame—it still couldn’t be ignored.

  They were seated near a window along the wall of glass, with a view of the roaring waves ravaging the shore. A warm glow filled the room from the raised hearth, the perfect way to take the chill off the May evening. Soft lights from dimmed chandeliers and sconces invited cozy chats.

  Abby strolled over, lightly touching Jezzica’s shoulder. “Welcome to Chantilly Rose. It’s been a while.”

  “My mouth is watering for your sensational sweet potato fries.” Catylen smiled at Abby and picked up the menu.

  From Abby’s gentle touch and pensive expression, Jezzica knew she was offering silent condolences. Geoff and Jezzica had purchased the cottage from Jezzica’s parents and spent many relaxing weeks in Serenity Cove. He’d caught up on his journal reading and Jezzica had spent time reading, browsing through the shops or just kicking back on the shore. The Chantilly Rose had been one of their favorite places to dine.

  “Our special tonight is one of our signature lattes, French vanilla with whipped cream and a dash of cinnamon.” Abby turned to the waiter and quietly told him the lattes were on her. “Enjoy your dinners.” She seemed about to say more, but turned instead and greeted guests at another table.

  The waiter stepped closer. “Besides the blend that Abby mentioned, we also have a great Caramel-Brown Sugar Latte.” He quickly disappeared with the orders.

  They decided to stick with the appetizer extravaganza. The table soon filled with sweet potato fries, mini potato pancakes with a sweet mango salsa, and a vegetable platter with three dipping sauces.

  They ate with little chitchat. Jezzica rehashed the earlier phone message. She pushed her plate away. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Tell me about it. One more bite and I’ll need to undo the button on my pants.”

  Jezzica exchanged the valet ticket for her car, and they were soon speeding down Shoreview Drive.

  Puzzled, Jezzica kept an eye on her rearview mirror. “That truck is riding my bumper.”

  Catylen turned around as a jolt struck from behind. The car jerked and Jezzica fought the steering wheel. “They just hit the—” Again the truck rammed into them with its oversized bumper. “What’s going on?” She tossed her phone to Catylen. “Call Zack.” The pickup slammed them for the third time. Jezzica tried to control the car as it spun around. The truck jammed the car and spun it again and the back of the car crashed into the hillside. “Are you okay, Caty?”

  Catylen pressed her hand against the gaping cut on her head as blood oozed between her fingers. “My head is bleeding.”

  The sight of flashing lights on the patrol car eased her breathing. She jumped out and met Zack as he jogged toward the car. “Catylen’s hurt.”

  Zack hollered for Alec, who had arrived on the scene with him, to call the medics. Then turned his attention to the two women. “Gas is spilling out of your vehicle.” He waited as they settled in the patrol unit, then moved the cruiser farther from the scene. He pushed Jezzica’s hair off her brow. “Help’s on the way.”

  The night exploded with the sound of sirens, not a common occurrence in Serenity Cove. Soon the medics swung in behind the patrol car. They were quick to replace Jezzica at Catylen’s side.

  Paul Kimmet, the medic on the scene, looked at the gap extending from her eyebrow past her hairline. “No doubt, it’ll need stitches.”

  Zack briefed Brandon Hernandez, the new fire chief. Brandon had been injured in the fire that had spread behind the shops on Main Street a few months back. He’d returned to the fire department, not only healed from his injuries, but also sober for the first time since his high school years. Zack rushed back to his cruiser; he and Jezzica followed the ambulance to the hospital.

  He pulled into the drive next to the Serenity Cove General Hospital monument sign for the small, single-level hospital and parked in the spot reserved for the SCPD. Jezzica rushed toward the front doors, and he had to jog a few steps to catch up with her.

  Inside, Thelma manned her station at the front desk. “Make yourselves comfortable in the waiting area. Doc’s with Catylen now.” Her no-nonsense commander-in-chief tone of voice left little room for questions.

  Guilt gripped Jezzica as they took a seat. “This is all my fault.” She stared at the floor.

  “Your fault? You know who did this?” Zack grasped her hand.

  The situation forced her to tell him everything. She accepted the tissue he offered her and wiped her face. “I intended to call you tomorrow.”

  “So there’s a possibility the incident tonight has something to do with the killers.” Zack tightened his hand around hers.

  “It sure wasn’t an accident. That truck rammed us over and over intentionally. How did they know where to find me?”

  “They’ve probably had you under surveillance since Geoff’s murder.” He wanted to take the words back, yet she needed to know what she was facing with men like these.

  She and Zack both looked up as Doctor James Hollingsworth, commonly referred to as Doc, came into the waiting area and sat next to Jezzica. “Your sister is fine, but we’ll keep her overnight for observation.” Doc rubbed his fingers through his scru
ffy beard and stretched his lanky legs out in front of him. It seemed the long night had taken its toll on him. Jezzica noticed less of the burnished brown and more of the salty gray in his hair than when she’d first met him the previous year.

  “Can I see her?” Desperation clouded her eyes. What if something had happened to her—what if she’d lost her sister like she’d lost Geoff? Had the killers kept track of her—what would be their next move?

  Chapter Nine

  Zack perused the report from the detective division of the Stone Valley Police Department. The file presented graphic, detailed description of the incident the night of Geoff’s murder. The killers hadn’t been content with killing him. They’d fired six bullets into his body as though nothing more than a target set up for practice. The photos revealed multiple bruises from being kicked, as he lay on the ground dying or maybe already dead.

  This fit the profile of criminals that had no conscience, and showed relentless hostility toward their victims. They often were the hardest to capture. The file held drawings based on the information and work Jezzica had done with the police sketch artist. According to the file notes, the sketches hadn’t resulted in any leads. The detectives on the case stated that, in their opinion, the crime had been the work of overzealous thugs within a large carjacking ring. The killers may have been thugs—but Zack believed psycho was a better fit.

  In light of the current situation with Jezzica’s car, the case warranted immediate attention. He donned his cap, left the station parking lot and drove to Main Street. As he pulled into a slot in front of the bookshop, the lights were on. Good, she’s here.

  He tapped on the door. Her shadow appeared through the frosted double glass doors. The doors swung open and her translucent brown eyes created a surge in his heartbeat, but drained his brain cells. He’d heard her say to come in, but it hadn’t registered with him that he should pick up his feet and move.

  “Zack?” Her knowing grin didn’t help.

  He recovered with a lame attempt to act natural—anything would be an improvement after acting like the victim of a recent lobotomy. He cringed and stepped across the threshold. “I dropped by to…to check on Catylen.”

  She squinted as though questioning his sanity. In the back of the shop, she sat at the table, motioning for him to sit across from her. “Caty is doing much better. She’s upstairs, going through a few things that Samantha left behind.” The orange tabby jumped into her lap and she massaged behind his ears, he stretched and purred in appreciation.

  “I see he’s made himself at home.” Zack chuckled and then turned serious again. “I don’t want to overreact to what happened. But it warrants upping the security here and at your cottage.” He leaned forward with his arms resting on the table.

  “I want to argue with you, but I’d rather take every precaution than end up—” Speaking the possible was seemingly too much to even contemplate.

  “I need a key to the shop and the cottage, and I’ll handle everything for you. I want to go over the details with the security company before they install the necessary equipment.”

  “Catylen’s daughters will be arriving next week. I’d like to have everything finished before then, if possible.” Her eyes clouded with a tinge of worry. “Should we have them cancel their plans and not come?”

  He inhaled deeply. “Let’s get everything secured and go from there.”

  Jezzica walked him to the front of the shop. He stepped outside and listened for the click of the lock. With his sunglasses in place, he turned in the direction of Serenity Blooms.

  A man ducked between two of the shops. Zack sprinted in pursuit. But no one was in sight. He investigated behind the buildings and found nothing. Why did he disappear so quickly? He hated distressing Jezzica even more—but there was no other choice. He made his way back to the bookshop.

  Jezzica opened the door with a smile. “Forget something?”

  “I need you and Catylen to stay at the inn until the security equipment is installed.” He explained about seeing someone duck between the shops. “We can’t take any risks.”

  “What choice do we have? Staying at the cottage isn’t an option.” No longer smiling, she went to the stairway and called her sister.

  “I’ll follow you home, and after you pack a bag, I’ll drive you to the inn. We’ll leave your sister’s car at the cottage, to give the appearance someone is home. If the criminals show up, our surveillance team will be ready.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jezzica and Catylen lounged on the balcony of the oceanfront suite, the one Abby had insisted they stay in, and according to the inn’s owner, the same one Samantha had used as she prepared to wed the town’s chief of police. The rooms spoke of a bygone era of unhurried, gracious living. Adorned with flowing silk and lace, the décor gave the ambiance of an age with charm and romance.

  Catylen sipped her mocha cappuccino. “I could become accustomed to living in the luxury of this suite. Makes me want to dress in long soft gowns, with a three-ruffle crinoline petticoat underneath.”

  “The caffeine in that drink has gone to your head. Imagine trying to maneuver the stairway in such a gown.” She smiled at Rusty stretched out on his back, enjoying the sun.

  “Just imagine it. Dancing with the man of my dreams in the ballroom.” The sparkle in Catylen’s eyes suddenly dimmed as a veil of sadness settled on her face. Apparently, all images of silk and lace had slipped right out of her mind. “I wonder how Mike is doing?” She blotted the corners of her eyes.

  Jezzica wanted to smack Mike for hurting her sister, but obviously Caty still loved the scoundrel. “Shouldn’t the two of you talk?”

  Catylen went into a full-blown cry. Besides being heartbreaking, it wasn’t a pretty sight. It was so unlike Catylen to lose control. “Wha…what could h..he pos..sibly say?”

  “You’ve been married to the man for twenty-five years—doesn’t that at least warrant a conversation?”

  Catylen took a swallow of her coffee and composed herself. “He didn’t consult me before his little fling. I’m not interested in what he has to say now. How could his words make the pain go away? How could his words heal my broken heart? How could his words turn the world right side up again?”

  “I’m going to break a confidence. You’re my sister and you come first. Mike called me.”

  “He called you?” Anger flared in her eyes, replacing the shadow of sadness.

  “Hang on a minute.”

  “I can’t…” Catylen started to interrupt again.

  Jezzica sat up straighter in her chair and reached across and touched her sister’s hand. “My concern is for you. If you decide to divorce Mike, I’ll be sitting right next to you in court. Mike doesn’t claim to be innocent. He claims to love you and want you back. Isn’t a marriage worth one conversation before you make your decision final?”

  Catylen took the tissues Jezzica offered. “Samantha mentioned a Christian counselor, Dr. Ellie Clarimonde. I’ve been thinking about calling her—would you go with me?”

  “Of course. I don’t share your views on God—but I’ll always be by your side supporting you—that’s what sisters do. Maybe she’ll come here?” Jezzica sipped her latte, which had cooled a little too much.

  “I’ll call her right now.” Catylen jumped up with a new determination.

  “Now you seem more like my sister—a woman of action.” Jezzica nodded as the French doors closed behind her sister.

  Catylen waltzed back out on the deck, and her smile once again reached her eyes. “Dr. Ellie is on her way over. I told her we would order sandwiches for an early dinner.”

  Jezzica hoped Caty wasn’t expecting more than Dr. Ellie could deliver. She acted as though she expected Dr. Ellie to arrive with a Mary Poppins’s style bag—filled with miracles. “If you decide you want to talk in private, I’ll go into the bedroom and read.”

  “Seriously? I don’t think so. But I’m going to change.” Catylen brushed at the cat fur on her sweats.


  With the cat curled next to her on the sofa, Jezzica thumbed through a pamphlet citing places to visit and things to do in Serenity Cove. A knock sounded, and she opened the door for room service.

  The server set up a table and arranged a grouping of finger sandwiches along with a fruit plate, complete with a bone china tea service. The delicate cups were graced with a thin gold band and petite roses in reds and yellows surrounded by tiny green leaves.

  Catylen waltzed back into the room and smiled at her sister. She’d replaced the sweats she had on earlier with slacks and a shell top. “Wow, look at this spread.”

  Jezzica signed the receipt and clicked the lock behind the server. “You’re right—we need silk gowns to wear.”

  The doorbell chimed and the smile left Catylen’s face. “What am I going to tell her? I don’t know what to say. Why did I call her?”

  “Be yourself. Dr. Ellie will guide the conversation—that’s her job.” Jezzica motioned toward the door. “Might be a good idea to let her in.” She wanted to make the pain in her sister’s eyes go away. What if Geoff had lived and he’d ever betrayed their marriage vows? Her mind wouldn’t go there—wouldn’t believe it to be a possibility. If only he’d lived. She closed her eyes against the tears threatening the back of her eyes. This was her sister’s crisis—she had to pull herself together. With a deep intake of air, she blew out the what ifs and focused on the problem at hand.

  Dr. Ellie stepped into the room, and both of the sisters responded with a surprised look of recognition. Only when they had known her, she hadn’t been Dr. Ellie—she’d been Ricky, Robbie, and Ronnie’s mom, and they’d spent the summers in a cottage near theirs.

  “We used to hang out with your sons on the beach and when we were small all of us went to story time with Miss Anne.” Catylen related the memories, her voice filled with warmth.

  A smile brightened Dr. Ellie’s face. “Yes, I remember you two. You looked so much alike—except for size, you could’ve been mistaken for twins.”