Thirty minutes later, the show was wrapping up. Blast after blast shot off from the barge in front. It almost looked like the platform was on fire with how quickly the shells were being launched. When the celebration ended, the entire beach and grandstands area erupted in cheers. I could already hear people saying how great the show was, comparing it to previous years. So far, everyone thought the town had done a fabulous job. We waited a few minutes while everyone seemed to make a mad dash, gathering their kids and gear, to beat traffic. Thankfully, we wouldn’t be dealing with that mess.
“You about ready to head back?” I asked a few minutes later. I had only brought one of Finn’s sweatshirts to throw over my cutoffs, and the night air had cooled several degrees.
“Yeah, let’s go. I may or may not have a surprise waiting for you.” Finn reached for my hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. Surprises weren’t really my thing, but I had a feeling I’d love whatever Finn had in store.
“Beach or boardwalk?” he asked.
“Beach. Less crowded.” Most of the crowd had thinned out except for the few bonfires that had popped up, and the kids who ran around on the beach with sparklers in hand.
I started to ask Finn more about his planned charter. “So, where are you going exactly?”
“Making a run from Savannah to St. Augustine with a couple of island stops along the way. It’s basically the best vacation ever.”
Ha, I doubted that. In my opinion, the best vacation involved the beach, a fruity cocktail, and my bikini. I turned my head and started to tell him so when I tripped over something and went flying face-first in the sand. My hands cushioned the blow, but I still took in a mouthful of grit.
“Hey, you okay?” Finn had dropped the cooler and blanket and rushed to my side.
“What the heck?” I rolled over and Finn gave me a hand up. I whipped the sand off my clothes and face, and tried to spit out the remnants in my mouth as ladylike as possible; but there was no proper way to do this, I discovered. At least I didn’t get any in my eyes.
I looked behind me in the darkness to try and see what I had tripped over. “Sweet sugar!” I jumped back. A human foot was sticking out of the sand. Finn froze next to me and I knew he saw it too.
“Tell me this wasn’t my birthday surprise,” I said.
“Not even close.”
I wish I could say this was the first dead body we’d found together. This time, I let him call the cops.
3
Thanks to the added crowd control, two police officers arrived on the scene in less than five minutes. I pointed to where the body was and gladly stepped aside to let them do their thing. So far, only one foot was visible. I wasn’t about to dig up any more.
Finn, on the other hand, didn’t mind getting a closer look. “I think it’s a woman.” He had bent down to check it out. “Definitely. See? Her toenails are painted.”
If anything could’ve gotten me to check out a dead foot, it would have been nail polish. I wondered if it was a Beauty Secrets color, but even that wasn’t tempting enough. “I don’t care. I’m not getting any closer.” I crossed my arms and turned away, partly in defiance, but mostly because I was officially chilled to my core, and not because of the weather.
I spotted the detective before she even introduced herself. Two words came to mind when I saw her: blond bombshell. Her red lipstick matched the tank top that peeked out from underneath her brown bomber jacket. Her jeans were tight. Her blond hair was long. She looked absolutely nothing like my friend Detective Brandle. Where he was middle-aged and overworked, she was young and ambitious.
The uniformed officers motioned us and I prepared to answer twenty questions. The detective didn’t say anything for minute, instead just looked us up-and-down with her intense, dark eyes. I know I was at a murder scene and all, but I didn’t appreciate being scrutinized. After all, we’re the ones who called the cops.
“Ziva Diaz,” I said, extending my hand, growing more impatient by the minute. “This is my friend, Finn Hudson.” I tried to ignore the look Finn gave me at the “friend” title. Who needed titles anyway? Titles just led to trouble.
“Detective Roxy,” the woman replied with a firm handshake to both of us.
So, Foxy Roxy it was. She was beautiful for sure, but personally I thought she could do without the black eyeliner, given the dark red color she wore on her lips. It was a general beauty rule that you only played up one asset at a time. Dark eyes meant soft lips, and vice versa. You didn’t want your makeup elements competing on your face, and you never wanted your look to cover up your personality.
“Ziva, come with me. Finn, I’ll be with you in a moment,” the detective ordered.
Smart move, separating the two of us before taking our statements, I thought.
“Okay, from the top,” she said, once we were alone.
I kept it brief. The story really wasn’t all that exciting. She only interrupted me once to ask, “Why did you disturb the body again?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose. Didn’t you hear the part about me tripping? In the dark?” Hello? I highly doubted running into a foot counted as disturbing a body, anyway. I might have to retract my “smart” comment. Either that, or she was trying to trip me up in my story. I wasn’t ready to give her credit for that yet.
The sand was still gritty in my mouth, but I didn’t want to spit it out in front of Detective Roxy. My mother did teach me some manners. Fortunately, she didn’t object when Finn walked over and handed me a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” I said to Finn as I took a drink. “I think that’s about it,” I said to Detective Roxy when I finished drinking.
The detective stared us down again. I put my hands on my hips and returned the stare. I had nothing to hide and the sooner she realized that, the sooner Finn and I could leave.
“Give me a few minutes with your friend here, and then you two can go,” she said after a beat.
“Sounds good to me.” I stepped aside and let Finn have his turn. I may have rolled my eyes as soon as I turned away from her. Did I mention I have issues with authority?
While they chatted, I tried to look anywhere but at the medical examiner. The methodical nature of their grim work creeped me out as much as finding a dead body. I could never be that calm while documenting death. The police had set up a barricade to keep the crowd away, and portable fluorescent lighting had been brought onto the beach, illuminating the scene like a baseball field. A man wearing a tan trench coat and matching fedora tried to peer this way and that, over the barricade and around the police. He had a cell phone in hand, and I think he was recording the scene, judging by the way he scanned the crowd with his phone raised up. My first thought was that he was a reporter, but then again, given his ridiculous get up, he might’ve been a Dick Tracy fanatic.
Mayor Potts arrived on the scene shortly thereafter. He paced back and forth from officer to officer, wringing his hands, and nodding his head a lot, mostly to himself. When that didn’t seem to get him anywhere, he walked over to the crowd and did his best to reassure everyone that everything was all right. I even heard him say that it was just an “unfortunate accident.” If he could explain how someone could accidentally be murdered and buried in the sand, I’d love to hear it.
“Ziva! Ziva! Pssst!” Someone hissed my name. I turned around, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Mrs. J. standing at the barricade, trying to get my attention. She motioned for me to come over, but I wasn’t sure if I should. I looked over to Finn, who was still deep in conversation with Detective Roxy. I glanced at the medical examiner and shuddered.
“Zee-va!” Mrs. J. used her mom voice. I shrugged my shoulders and ran over to her. She was pleased as pudding when I reached her. “Give me the scoop, honey girl.”
“Mrs. J., how do you always know where to find trouble?” I was only half joking.
“Hush now. Who they digging up over there?”
“No clue. I just tripped over the body.”
“Again? You gotta quit doing that, sug’.” She had a point. Although, it had been a few months since I’d found my last dead body.
I looked back and saw Detective Roxy staring me down yet again. “Gotta go,” I said to Mrs. J. and ran back to meet them. I gave Detective Roxy a look that said, “What, you didn’t say I couldn’t move.” I asked Finn if he was ready to go.
“Are we good here?” he asked the detective. She waved us away and started typing something into her phone.
Finn jogged back closer to the body to see if we could grab the stuff we had dropped. I left that task to him and thought of a question to ask Detective Roxy.
“Quick question for ya… Where’s Detective Brandle?” I was hoping he had finally taken a vacation, but I doubted that was the answer.
“Surgery, ulcer. He’ll be back in a few weeks.” She didn’t even look up from her phone.
“Ah, good to know.” I should send him a care package. But skip the sweets, his wife would kill me. Detective Brandle was never very good at managing his sugar, and it probably wasn’t good for an ulcer either.
Something caught my eye and I looked over before I could catch myself. It was the light reflecting off Paulette’s sequined blazer. Oh, that’s not good, I thought. She was the one who had been murdered and buried in the sand. I knew I wasn’t the only one who saw it when the collective gasp moved through the crowd. I looked back behind me and saw Mrs. J. backtracking through the crowd as fast as her white sneakers would take her.
4
It’s a little-known fact that I eat a lot of junk. Wait, who am I kidding? Everyone knows that the only vegetables I eat are the pickled ones in my bloody Mary. Sugar is my main food group. That, and maybe water. You know, to balance things out and eliminate all those free radicals. As a result, I forced myself to work out four times a week, which usually ended up being three times a week. No need to be an overachiever. Today was a cardio day, which meant running. Ugh, I hated running.
Finn’s side of the bed had long been vacated and I could see the sunlight blasting in through the living room’s front bay window. Finn didn’t care about curtains as he was up every morning before sunrise (occupational hazard) and his bedroom didn’t have windows.
I lay in bed for ten more blissful minutes before getting up to start my day. I refused to store anything at Finn’s. Not even a toothbrush. But I did keep an overnight bag in my truck for these occasions, which were becoming more frequent, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
I quickly retrieved my bag, freshened up, and threw on a pair of running leggings and a tank top. The June heat was sweltering. I would be a sweaty mess in thirty seconds. I planned on rewarding myself with a chai latte and coffee cake from Sweet Thangs when I was done (see, what did I say about my eating habits?), but I didn’t have to. Finn had already left a strawberry cheesecake muffin next the coffee pot for me. He was right: he did know me well. Even better, he didn’t try to change me. Aria, bless the girl, would’ve left me a carrot muffin or banana bread with flaxseed in it or something nasty like that. I considered Aria’s regular diet a form of torture.
While I ate the muffin, I thought back to yesterday. It had been a birthday to remember, for sure. Finn’s charm bracelet glimmered off my wrist in the sun. I thought about taking it off. It wasn’t like I had to wear it twenty-four, seven, but I didn’t want to lose it either. I decided to keep it on until I got home and could put it in my jewelry box. I thought back to Paulette and her comment to Mrs. J. yesterday. “Over my dead body,” she’d said, which is exactly what I had tripped over. Super ironic, but in a horrible way. I also thought about Detective Roxy. Foxy Roxy was a force. She seemed like a good cop, but a bad people-person. She would have to ditch the whole staring-you-down bit; that wouldn’t go over well here in small-town USA. You wanted people to like you. After all, one catches more flies with honey. I was glad I wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore. I only hoped Mrs. J. would play it cool when Detective Roxy came calling; and believe me, she would come calling as soon as she heard about their little cat fight yesterday. Make that a whole lifetime of cat fights. Mrs. J. better check her mouth before opening it to Detective Roxy. That would only get her into trouble.
I ate the last cheesecake-filled bite and smiled in satisfaction. Time to run. I tried to stifle my groans. Thankfully, I had an agenda to stick to for the day. Tomorrow was the farmers market and my big business debut. I wanted to make sure I had enough product ready to rock and roll, which meant a stop by the natural food store for raw sugar, coconut oil, and bees wax, and then a quick stop by the apothecary for more essential oils. Everything in my products was all-natural, the closer to nature the better. I just had to get this stupid run out of the way first. So, my plan was to run there, downtown around the city squares, pop into those two stores and then head home and get to work.
I left my truck at the marina and set out from there. It was early by my standards, about nine AM, but Seaside Days were in full effect. The carnival rides were already roaring to life and I thought long and hard about an elephant ear. Those things were the best. But I did already have a cheesecake muffin. No, I will demonstrate some will power and start running. In the opposite direction. As quickly as possible. However, the sidewalk sales congested the streets and had me rethinking my plan, again. I wonder if shopping burns any calories? It burned through the cash in my wallet, for sure. Nope, I must move forward.
Once I made it through the heaviest retail section of the strip, the crowds thinned out and my run picked up pace. I saw Military Mary straight ahead, doing laps around the park square. Against my better judgement, I decided to try to catch up with her and congratulate her on her win yesterday, and see if she had heard about Paulette. Sweet sugar, that woman can run. Either that, or my running game was seriously lacking. Probably a combination of both.
This was a terrible plan.
My calves burned and I was only about three minutes into it. Why did I want to talk to her anyway? Did I think she killed Paulette? I had a feeling Mary was a very sore loser. I lost sight of her for a few minutes and was ready to give up only to realize that she was lapping me. She came up from behind, her gait smooth and strong. Here I am, all huffing and puffing, and there she is breathing all calm like. I was really starting to not like her.
“Hey...congratulations...on your big...win...yesterday,” I puffed out when she caught up to me.
“Thank you.” Mary looked straight ahead. She picked up her pace, ready to put me behind her, but I followed suit.
“You...seemed...confident.”
“Of course. One doesn’t win by accident.”
Uh-huh. “How...so?” Could you slow down a bit, lady? Seriously, I’m dying here!
Mary stopped short and I ran right into her. “Oof, sorry.”
Mary looked at me like I was an idiot and then started jogging again. At least this time a little bit slower.
“You train. Winners are made, not born,” she said.
“In the kitchen?” I wanted to make sure we were talking about the baking competition.
“Where else?” And then she picked up the pace again and I let her pull away.
Wow, she is … hardcore. I had a feeling she tackled everything in life like it was a competition. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Wonder just how far she’d go to win?
I didn’t see Mary for the rest of my run, which admittedly wasn’t as long as it should have been. With exercise checked off my list, I ran, or rather walked, and completed my other two errands and was ready to get home and get to work when I spotted Mayor Potts, pacing in front of the courthouse steps. He had on a cheery yellow suit, but he looked downright distraught. His usual limp was a bit more pronounced, probably from all the extra walking he had been doing. He didn’t have his cane with him, but boy, he could’ve sure used it. I was planning on completely ignoring him and continuing past when he made eye contact. I couldn’t ignore the worry I saw there.
“Is everything
okay?” I asked.
“Such dreadful news. So unfortunate,” Mr. Potts said.
That it was. I thought back to the comment Mrs. J. made about he and Paulette having relations. He must have been devastated to lose someone that he cared so much about. “I’m very sorry to hear,” I started to say...
“Just, the worst timing. I know how many people rely on Seaside Days for their businesses.”
“Oh…” Well, there was that. Not really the worst of it, in my opinion.
“And the press. Of course, the local paper downplayed it, at my request, but I can’t promise anything. Not when the rest of the news gets out.”
“What rest?” I hadn’t heard anything.
“Poisoned. That’s what I’ve been told. Such a mess. I hope it doesn’t affect turnout this weekend.”
I suppose it was the mayor’s job to be concerned about things like that, but I had to be honest, he was in way over his head. I hoped he didn’t have anything official to do with the investigation. He probably wasn’t even supposed to be talking about it.
“The farmers market, silent auction ... they all need to be big hits,” he continued. “If this festival fails, I guarantee I’ll lose the election to McGovern’s boy.” Mayor Potts scowled and then he started to pace once more. I stumbled for the right words.
“Mayor Potts,” Detective Roxy called out, motioning with her finger for the mayor join her. She had just walked down the courthouse steps, annoyance stamped on her face. I had a feeling he was about to get scolded. Personally, I was grateful for the interruption.
“Oh yes, keep it very hush-hush. I’m not supposed to be saying anything.”
I was right. “Got it, and I’m sorry about your loss.”
“What? Oh, yes, yes. So sad. Very heartbreaking.”
He didn’t look all that heartbroken, but I knew people grieved differently. I turned to leave when I heard Detective Roxy say, “Ziva, one minute.” I gave an internal sigh. I didn’t have time for this. My products needed to set for so many hours before they would be ready to sell tomorrow. I really needed to get a move on. I waited rather impatiently for my turn, and Detective Roxy walked over to me a moment later.
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