Strawberries and Strangers_A Cozy Murder Mystery

by Leena Clover

  Copyright © Leena Clover, Author 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organizations and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Strawberries and Strangers – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Series Book 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Acknowledgements

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  Books by Leena Clover

  Cupcakes and Celebrities – Pelican Cove Cozy Mystery Book 2

  Gone with the Wings – Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 1

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071WHNM6K

  A Pocket Full of Pie - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 2

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  For a Few Dumplings More - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 3

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  Back to the Fajitas - Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 4

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0748KPTLM

  Christmas with the Franks – Meera Patel Cozy Mystery Book 5

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  For A

  Chapter 1

  Jenny King breathed in the cool salty breeze rolling off the Atlantic. She shivered a bit in her light cardigan as a smile lit up her face. The sun had risen over the ocean a couple of hours ago and the sunny spring day already looked promising. It was a big day for her.

  She rubbed the tiny gold four-leaf clover that hung around her neck on a chain. It gave her immense strength and was the only tangible connection she had to her son Nick. Nick, now a college freshman, had started giving her a charm as a Mother’s Day gift ever since he turned eight. All the charms had dangled around her wrist on a bracelet for years. She had strung them on a chain earlier that year. They literally touched her heart and comforted her in a time of turmoil.

  “More coffee?” she asked her favorite customer.

  “Stop fawning over me, sweetie, and skedaddle. You have bigger fish to fry today.”

  “We’re all set, Auntie, don’t worry.”

  “What did I tell you about that?” the brightly dressed woman with eyes as green as the sea complained. “You make me sound old.”

  At 66, Rebecca King was no spring chicken but she insisted her niece call her Star like everyone else.

  “Are you invited?”

  “I have a standing invitation to this shindig,” Rebecca King alias Star preened. “I married a Cox, didn’t I?”

  “And the Coxes and the Newburys are tight. Is that it, Star?”

  “I wouldn’t say that, Jenny.”

  “I’m still getting it right in my head,” Jenny admitted.

  “You know I don’t give a damn about all this snobbery.”

  “You’re the most down to earth person I know,” Jenny nodded, giving her aunt a quick hug.

  Jenny had arrived in the small seaside town of Pelican Cove three months ago. She had been in shock. She realized that now. Who wouldn’t be? Her marriage of twenty years had just come to an abrupt end. Her husband William Anderson had coolly come home with a young svelte woman in tow and announced his plans. The young woman was expecting his child and what choice did he have but to marry her? He demanded a divorce and told Jennifer to clear out.

  Jenny had some rights but her husband was a hotshot lawyer. He tied up all their assets and promised her she would get nothing if she made a fuss. Too outraged to argue, Jenny had meekly fallen in line with whatever William said.

  Jenny had wanted to get as far away from her suburban mansion as possible. Her Aunt Becca or Star had come to the rescue. Star was the oddball in the family, living on a little known island somewhere off the coast of Virginia. She had hitchhiked her way across the country in the 1970s and come upon this small town she called her own piece of paradise. The salt marshes and ocean had captured her heart and Star had stayed on. The scenic village offered the perfect inspiration for her art. Then she fell in love with a local. Pelican Cove became her home. She had called Jennifer and ordered her to come visit.

  “You get over here, young lady,” Star had thundered on the phone. “We’ll put you right in no time.”

  All Jenny knew about Pelican Cove was that it was quiet and isolated. Nothing much happened there according to her aunt. It sounded like the perfect place to lick her wounds. So Jenny had packed a bag and walked out on her old life. She had been in a daze when she arrived in Pelican Cove. She took long walks on the beach and sat for hours in a small café, staring at the sea. The locals had welcomed her warmly and let her be. One day Star suggested she work part time at the café just to keep busy.

  “I’ve never worked in a café!” she had protested.

  “You can start now,” Star quipped. “Or you can take up a paintbrush and start painting seascapes alongside me.”

  “You like to cook, don’t you?” Petunia Clark, the lady who owned the café had asked.

  Petunia was about Star’s age, and her best friend on the island.

  “Your aunt says you threw a lot of parties for your husband?”

  “I’m used to entertaining,” Jenny admitted grudgingly. “And I do love to cook. It’s pretty much what I did all my life.”

  “Well then,” Petunia had bobbed her head up and down, making her two chins wobble. “You can start by pouring coffee.”

  Three months later, Jenny King was a fixture at the café. She did much more than pour coffee. Petunia had discovered how good a cook Jenny was early on. She had revamped the café menu and encouraged Jenny to put her skills to use. Jenny loved using the abundant local produce and fresh seafood. The locals were reluctant at first but they soon fell in love with her peculiar brand of cooking. Jenny baked and cooked like there was no tomorrow. She loved being exhausted at the end of the day. That meant she was out like a light the moment her head hit the pillow. Jenny didn’t want to spare a thought for her sorry past.

  Jenny felt a hand on her back and turned to smile at Petunia.

  “All set for the party?” the older woman asked kindly. “This is all thanks to you, Jenny. Ada Newbury never set a foot in this café before you got here.”

  Jenny blushed but said nothing.

  The Newburys were the richest family in the town of Pelican Cove. Although they didn’t share the honor of being the ‘first family’, they tried to make up for it with plenty of wealth. Rumor had it their coffers were full of gold, gold they had dug up from the sea. They had a sprawling ocean facing estate spread over ten acres. Unlike most houses in town, it was newly built. Anything built in the last fifty years was considered new in Pelican Cove.

  “But you’ve been open twenty five years, haven’t you, Petunia?”

  “That’s
just how long I owned this café, dear. It was around a long time before that.”

  “So the Newburys never came to the Boardwalk Café?”

  “They got rich in the great storm,” Petunia whispered, leaning forward. “And they built that big castle of theirs.”

  “Upstarts!” Star snorted.

  Petunia rolled her eyes and turned toward Jenny.

  “They got rich and uppity, I tell you. I guess they thought coming to this café was beneath them.”

  “Then why have they hired us now?” Jenny asked.

  “It’s all because of you,” Petunia sang. “That and the fancy caterer they hired from the mainland cancelled at the last minute.”

  “I’m no match for a caterer,” Jenny said humbly.

  “Betty Sue Morse can’t stop singing your praises,” Star explained. “She goes on and on about your strawberry cheesecake and the cupcakes you bake for the inn. When Ada raised a fuss about having no one to cater their Spring Gala, Betty Sue told her she couldn’t do better than you.”

  Betty Sue Morse was Pelican Cove and Pelican Cove couldn’t exist without Betty Sue Morse. She was the fourth descendant of James Morse, the original owner of Pelican Cove. It had been called Morse Isle at the time.

  James Morse of New England travelled south with his wife Caroline and his three children in 1837. He bought the island for $125 and named it Morse Isle. He built a house for his family on a large tract of land. Fishing provided him with a livelihood, so did floating wrecks. He sent for a friend or two from up north. They came and settled on the island with their families. They in turn invited their friends. Morse Isle soon became a thriving community.

  Being a barrier island, it took a battering in the great storm of 1962. Half the island was submerged forever. Most of that land had belonged to the Morse family. A new town emerged in the aftermath of the storm and it was named Pelican Cove.

  Jenny shook her head as she thought of the town’s colorful history. She hadn’t had an inkling of all that when she came there a few months ago. Now she was fascinated by the history of the island and the stories of the families that had settled there over the years.

  “Does anyone say no to Betty Sue?” Jenny mused.

  “Why should they?” Star argued. “She’s right most of the time. And she’s a Morse.”

  “Being a Morse is a big deal here, isn’t it?” Jenny asked, fascinated.

  Star and Petunia both nodded emphatically.

  “Is that why she didn’t change her name?” Jenny asked.

  “Betty Sue said she was born a Morse and she would die a Morse. That was her condition when she got married.”

  “And her kids would have the name Morse too,” Petunia added with relish. “That’s what she named her son.”

  “So that’s why Heather’s a Morse,” Jenny said, referring to Betty Sue’s granddaughter and her new friend.

  “Heather’s the last Morse alive,” Petunia added. “She better find a man soon and get cracking.”

  “So the Morses and Newburys are Pioneers?” Jenny asked. “Who else?”

  Jenny still couldn’t wrap her head around the different local families. She found the dynamics fascinating.

  “Cotton, Stone and Williams…” Star chanted. “There are five Pioneer families. Then there are the Survivors.”

  “That’s your husband’s family, right?” Jenny asked her aunt.

  “The Coxes came off the Bella alright,” Star nodded. “Swam their way to the island.”

  She was referring to the survivors of an old shipwreck. The summer of 1876 had brought tragedy to the island. A passing steamship, the Isabella, had sunk in the shoals. Plenty of people had gone down with her. There were only seventeen survivors who were rescued and brought to Morse Isle. They stayed on and never went back. Their families thrived on in Pelican Cove, still referred to as the Survivors. Star’s deceased husband had been one of them.

  “That makes you one of them, right Auntie?” Jenny asked. “I mean, Star.”

  Star threw back her head and laughed.

  “Nothing will make me one of them. I may have lived here for over forty years but I’m still a chicken necker. That’s a newcomer.”

  “What about me? I just got here.”

  “Enough of that, Jenny,” Petunia rushed. “You can talk all you want about the island after this party. We need to get going now.”

  “Aren’t you going to change?” Star asked Jenny, roving a critical eye over her stained apron and wrinkled jeans.

  “I’m wearing my yellow dress,” Jenny nodded.

  “Folks are going to love your cheesecake,” Petunia said eagerly.

  “What about Ada Newbury?” Jenny asked worriedly. “Do you think she’ll be pleased?”

  “As far as I remember, Ada Newbury has never had a kind word for anyone,” Star dismissed. “I wouldn’t take it to heart if I were you.”

  “I’m sure the people of Pelican Cove will love your cake,” Petunia told Jenny loyally. “And they’ll be flocking to the Boardwalk Café to get more of it.”

  “How many people turn up for this gala?” Jenny asked.

  “About a hundred people are invited to the buffet,” Petunia explained. “These are the top local families and guests from out of town.”

  “What about the picnickers?” Star asked. “There could be hundreds more.”

  Petunia pursed her lips in thought.

  “This is the one day of the year the Newbury estate is thrown open to the public,” she explained to Jenny. “People are allowed to roam free on the beaches. Many of them bring a picnic and spend the day at the beach.”

  “Do they have live music?” Jenny asked eagerly.

  “Nothing of the sort,” Star grumbled. “But don’t worry. There are a few people I want you to meet.”

  “You’re not…” Jenny frowned. “You promised!”

  “Life goes on, Jenny. You need to pick yourself up and start having some fun.”

  “I’m not ready yet,” Jenny told her firmly.

  “You will be when you meet this guy.”

  Chapter 2

  Jenny hitched a ride to the party with her aunt. Star was wearing a tie dyed kaftan with every color of the rainbow in it. Jenny had changed into her yellow sun dress but she wore a sweater over it just in case.

  “Petunia’s gone ahead to make sure everything is set up correctly,” she told Star.

  “You’ve done your bit, girl,” Star told her. “Now just let your hair down and enjoy yourself.”

  “I hardly know anyone there,” Jenny said, feeling anxious all of a sudden.

  “You know enough people.”

  “Will Heather be there?” Jenny asked.

  “Heather will be there with Chris,” Star counted off. “Old Eddie Cotton is closing the pub to come to the party. Pa Williams will be there too.”

  Heather Morse was a shy young woman Jenny had taken to immediately. Heather ran the Bayview Inn along with her grandma Betty Sue. Chris Williams was her beau. They both came from the much esteemed Pioneer families of Pelican Cove.

  “What about Molly?” Jenny asked, thinking of her other friend.

  Molly Henderson was the local librarian. She was Heather’s age, a decade younger than Jenny but they both shared a love for the local seafood. Jenny had struck up a quick friendship with the smart and energetic 33 year old.

  “I’m afraid Molly doesn’t make the cut,” Star said, making a face.

  “Why not?” Jenny bristled. “She’s one of the smartest people on the island.”

  “Only one thing counts with the Newburys,” Star said. “Or two. Money and lineage. Molly’s got neither.”

  “I’m not sure I like these people,” Jenny said.

  She had a sudden flashback to her husband’s friends. They could give these Newburys a few lessons in snobbery. She was glad she was rid of them. She shook off the thought, resolving to enjoy the day.

  “Give them a chance,” Star shrugged.

  Th
e car climbed uphill for a bit and came abreast some massive iron gates. The guard waved them through. He was a local and he knew Star very well.

  Lush green lawns spread as far as the eye could see. The ocean pounded the shore in the distance. Jenny could see groups of people strolling along the beach. A game of volleyball was in progress. Some people had set up camp chairs and were sipping drinks from coolers. Others relaxed on blankets, eating out of straw baskets.

  “This is so festive,” she exclaimed.

  “You’re not going there,” Star said, inching her car along the driveway.

  She pointed toward a sprawling mansion that loomed over them.

  “That’s where you’re going, missy.”

  Star handed her car over to a valet. He turned out to be another young kid from town. He whispered something in Star’s ear and she smiled.

  “Is there anyone you don’t know, Star?” Jenny said, suddenly feeling like an outsider.

  “I used to babysit him,” Star said lightly. “When you live here for forty some years, you can’t help knowing people.”

  Jenny wondered if she would be alive in forty years. At 44, she figured the chances were slim to none. She fiddled with one of the charms on her necklace, flexed her shoulders and stood up straight.

  “Let’s go,” she nodded, putting her game face on.

  She was trying hard to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

  Ada Newbury stood in the cavernous foyer, greeting her guests. She barely spared a glance for Star.

  “Hello Ada,” Star said, thrusting herself in her host’s face. “Have you met my niece?”

  “Jenny King,” Jenny said cheerfully, offering her hand.

  Ada ignored it and tipped her head.

  “Petunia’s setting up in the back. I am sure she needs your help.”

  “Jenny’s been baking her butt off for you,” Star scowled. “She’s here as your guest.”

  A tall man with a receding hairline and grey hair at the temples burst in on them. He was well rounded across the middle. He wore a benevolent look unlike the woman he sidled next to. He put an arm around her shoulder and greeted Star with a smile.