by Leena Clover
Chapter 7
Jason Stone swept into the Boardwalk Café, holding a baby carrier in his hands.
“Emily!” Jenny cried as soon as she spotted them. “It’s about time you brought her for a visit, Jason.”
“This is not a social visit, Jenny,” Jason said seriously as Jenny made faces at the baby.
Star heard him as she came out of the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee.
“Why don’t you two sit outside? I can handle everything here.”
The breakfast crowd had thinned and Jenny had been ready for a break. She placed some warm muffins on a plate, added a crock of butter and ushered Jason out.
“I bet you missed breakfast.”
Jenny nudged the plate toward Jason and put Emily’s carrier on the seat next to her. The baby grabbed her finger and wailed heartily. Jenny blew kisses at her and ordered Jason to eat up.
Jason didn’t need an invitation. He was already slathering butter on Jenny’s banana nut muffin.
“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Jenny asked as she bit into a muffin herself.
“They took Ocean in again.”
“What has he done now?” Jenny asked.
“The police searched his van. They found a guitar.”
“He’s a musician, isn’t he? Of course he has a guitar.”
“This one had one string missing,” Jason said meaningfully.
Jenny’s eyes widened as she connected the dots.
“Are you saying this guitar belonged to Tyler?”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Jason admitted. “But the police think the missing string is the murder weapon. That’s why they took Ocean in for more questioning.”
“What does he have to say about all this?” Jenny asked, lifting Emily up into her arms as she began to cry.
“Ocean says he found the guitar lying somewhere. He said it looked alright so he picked it up.”
“Do you believe him?” Jenny asked, narrowing her eyes.
She stood up and began pacing the floor. Emily stopped crying and grabbed a fistful of Jenny’s hair.
“Now you want to play, huh?” Jenny asked in a babyish voice as Emily pulled hard, making Jenny scream in protest.
“Watch out, Jenny,” Jason cautioned.
“I’m fine,” Jenny assured him. “So do you believe Ocean?”
“Clients always lie in some form or the other,” Jason said, starting on a second muffin. “I don’t think he’s guilty of murder. He could have stolen the guitar, though.”
“What do the police have to say about it?”
“You know they found a guitar string on Tyler? They sent it for some forensic testing. Now they will run tests on this guitar too.”
“That’s it?”
“Things don’t look good for Ocean,” Jason admitted. “He was already the top suspect. The police are leaning more toward him now.”
“You have to defend him because he is your client,” Jenny pointed out. “But I don’t. I am looking for the truth here. If it turns out that Ocean did it, I will be the first to report him to the police.”
Jason nodded as he sipped his coffee.
“I know that, Jenny. I respect your integrity. I won’t ask you to do anything you are not comfortable with.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Jenny told her friend.
Jason Stone had been one of the first people to befriend Jenny when she moved to Pelican Cove. Jenny adored him and didn’t want anything to come between them.
“I came here to pick your brain,” Jason admitted. “What do I do now?”
“Did you ask Ocean where he found the guitar?” Jenny asked.
“Somewhere on the beach,” Jason explained. “He was pretty vague about it.”
Jenny waved her hand at the ocean stretching before them.
“You think he can narrow it down?”
Emily had fallen asleep while they talked. Jenny gently put her down in the carrier. Jason had walked to one side of the deck and was waving at someone. Jenny looked up to see a bearded figure ambling along the beach.
“Let’s ask the man himself,” Jason said, pointing at Ocean. “Looks like the police are done with him.”
Ocean climbed up the café steps, looking unruffled. He folded his hands and bowed before Jenny.
“We were just talking about you, Ocean. So they let you go?”
Ocean nodded and sprawled in a chair.
“I am innocent,” he said. “Sooner or later, they will realize that. They are free to question me as much as they want until then.”
“Why did you pick up that guitar?” Jenny asked him. “And where exactly did you find it?”
“I was planning to hock it,” Ocean admitted. “Normally, I would have turned it in, or tried to find out who it belonged to. But there isn’t a Lost and Found on the beach, is there?”
He laughed nervously.
“Actually,” Jenny corrected. “The town maintains a Lost and Found for all the public beaches. People are leaving stuff behind all the time. Towels, sunglasses, chairs, you name it … sometimes even bathing suits.”
“I didn’t know that, I swear.” Ocean looked contrite for the first time. “I was just looking to make a quick buck.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Jason said, placing a hand on Ocean’s shoulder. “Just tell us where you found the guitar.”
“It was on the beach,” Ocean said with a shrug. “I already told you that, man.”
“You will have to be more specific,” Jenny said sternly. “There’s miles of beach around us.”
Ocean gave them some vague directions.
“What were you doing when you found that guitar?” Jenny asked in frustration.
“I was driving out of town,” Ocean told them. “I had a meeting with a fellow in the next town.”
Jenny hid her surprise. What was Ocean doing holding meetings with people? It didn’t make sense given his zen attitude about everything. She decided to let it slide.
“Go on,” she prompted.
“I had to make a pit stop,” Ocean said, looking sheepish. “I stopped the car and walked into the beach grass. I saw something shine as I was doing my business.”
Jenny tried not to flinch at the image that flashed before her eyes.
Ocean continued.
“What do I see but a perfectly good guitar buried in the sand. I saw dollar signs flashing before my eyes.”
“Did you touch it?” Jason asked.
“How else do you think I picked it up?” Ocean quipped as Jason stifled a groan.
The guitar was going to have Ocean’s fingerprints all over it.
“Didn’t you notice the missing string?” Jenny asked impatiently.
“Not right away,” Ocean admitted. “But I wasn’t worried. I could easily get it fixed.”
“You didn’t wonder who the guitar belonged to?” Jenny pressed.
She couldn’t believe Ocean was that naïve. Had he really not made the connection with Tyler?
“I didn’t give it much thought,” Ocean said breezily. “Finders, keepers.”
Jason and Jenny shared a glance. This philosophy was going to cause Ocean a lot of trouble.
“Did you look around?” Jenny asked, wondering if Ocean could help them pinpoint the location.
“You bet I looked around,” Ocean laughed. “There wasn’t a soul in sight. It was a golden opportunity. I wasn’t going to let it pass.”
“A golden opportunity for what?” Jenny asked angrily. “Stealing something that didn’t belong to you?”
“Calm down, sister,” Ocean drawled. “Who said anything about stealing? That thing almost walked into my arms. Some rich dude with too much money must have chucked it without a thought.”
“So you didn’t see anyone,” Jenny said with a sigh. “So no one can vouch for you and tell the police they saw you pick it up.”
“Not unless someone from that garage saw me,” Ocean said.
“What garage?” J
enny asked sharply. “Do you mean Peter Wilson’s auto shop?”
“I don’t know,” Ocean said. “It’s that garage before the bridge. Someone told me it’s the only garage in town.”
“You found the guitar on the beach off the bridge?” Jason asked. “Why didn’t you say that before, Ocean?”
The bridge connected Pelican Cove to the mainland. It was the only way to enter or leave the town by road.
“Guess I didn’t know it was important,” Ocean said, scratching his head. “Can I go now? I need to go set up for the day. People expect me to entertain them, you know.”
“Go ahead,” Jason said.
“You think the bridge is important, don’t you?” Jenny said after Ocean left.
Jason looked excited.
“Consider this, Jenny. Whoever ditched that guitar probably drove out of town.”
“You are thinking it was someone from out of town?”
“Makes sense, doesn’t it?” Jason continued. “Tyler Jones wasn’t local. It follows that anyone he knew wasn’t from here either.”
“It’s possible, I guess,” Jenny agreed. “But how are you going to prove it? And how will you find this person?”
“I leave that to you, my super sleuth!” Jason teased. “I need to get going. Emily and I have a date at the library.”
Jason picked up the baby carrier and set off. Jenny went into the kitchen and started prepping for lunch. She sliced strawberries for her chicken salad and tried to arrange everything she knew about Tyler in a logical order. The Magnolias arrived at their usual time, ready to share some gossip and nosh on something sweet.
“Have you made any more chocolates?” Betty Sue asked her. “I have been craving them all morning.”
Jenny shook her head and placed a plate of warm muffins on the table.
“I can barely get through breakfast and lunch. I guess I need to put in some extra time.”
“Ask Heather and Molly to help,” Betty Sue ordained. “Heather needs to fill her time with something constructive.”
“We need to go shopping for your wedding gown,” Heather reminded Jenny. “It’s a long process and time’s running out.”
“I know you two looked at some dresses,” Molly said with a pout. “Have you already picked something, Jenny?”
“I wouldn’t do that without you, Molls,” Jenny said quickly. “We just did some window shopping, that too because the store was right next to the restaurant where we had lunch. We couldn’t help but look at the display windows.”
“Jenny has something to say to you, Molly,” Heather said, staring hard at Jenny.
“I do?” Jenny muttered.
She looked bewildered for a minute but she caught on quickly. She grabbed Molly’s hand and pulled her to her feet. Then she placed both her hands on Molly’s shoulders and beamed at her.
“Molly Henderson, will you be my maid of honor?”
Molly squealed appropriately and hugged Jenny. Heather clapped her hands and Star and Betty Sue followed.
“I’m not done yet,” Jenny said. “I want Star to give me away. Molly and Heather, you are both dear to my heart and I don’t want to choose between you two. That is why I want you both to be my Maid of Honor. I hope you don’t mind sharing.”
“We don’t,” Heather assured her. “But you have to fall in line now, Jenny. Time is short and there’s tons of things to do.”
“What about Adam’s best man?” Molly asked shyly. “Do you think he will ask Chris?”
Chris Williams was Molly’s beau. He was a Pelican Cove native and knew Adam well.
“He’s not asking Jason,” Star said drily, referring to the unspoken rivalry between Adam and Jason.
“Adam’s probably forgotten he has to choose a best man,” Jenny said.
“Both of you need to start thinking about the wedding now,” Heather stressed. “Molly and I are going to take Adam to task.”
“Don’t forget he’s the sheriff, Heather,” Jenny said morosely. “He won’t rest until he solves this latest case.”
“Or you can solve it for him,” Betty Sue cackled, looking up from her knitting.
Chapter 8
Jenny walked to the town square after winding up at the Boardwalk Café. She was on a mission. She sat in the gazebo, placed a big frosty cup of sweet tea beside her on the bench and pulled out a book. She leaned back and held the book before her eyes.
Any casual passerby would have assumed Jenny was enjoying a leisurely summer afternoon in the shade. But Jenny had other things on her mind. Her eyes flickered as she took in the space around her. They rested on a bunch of dried bouquets someone had placed below a tree. A sign proclaimed it as Tyler’s spot and wished him eternal peace.
A lush green lawn grew around Tyler’s spot. There were a few stores bordering the street that ran next to it. The ocean sparkled in the distance. Some houses sat in an alley across an empty parking lot.
A two storied Cape Cod sat on the corner just across where Tyler Jones must have crooned his songs. Jenny assumed it belonged to Peter Wilson. She could see how Tyler’s music might have bothered someone living in that house.
An old woman came out of one of the houses and began pottering in her garden. She looked up after some time, spotted Jenny and waved at her. Jenny recognized her as one of the café’s regulars.
“Catching up on your reading?” The woman asked in a friendly tone.
“Molly says this is the best book of the year,” Jenny replied. “I’m not much of a reader, I’m afraid. I barely have the time.”
“That café keeps your nose to the grindstone,” the woman nodded seriously. “But you need to take some time off and relax too.”
“Music is my relaxation,” Jenny offered. “I can’t fall asleep without playing some of my favorite records.”
The woman bobbed her head emphatically and leaned over the fence.
“Music feeds the soul, doesn’t it? I can’t imagine life without it … unlike some philistines.”
“You mean …” Jenny prompted.
“I just made some fresh lemonade. Why don’t you come and have some?”
Jenny finally remembered the woman’s name.
“That’s kind of you, Trish,” Jenny beamed and walked over to the house.
She admired the roses and the wisteria. Trish looked happy as she ushered Jenny into a small parlor. White lace curtains billowed in the breeze. Chintz covered chairs in a quaint primrose shade faced a pale pink Chesterfield. A large seascape hung over the fireplace and a bunch of photo frames in wood and silver graced the mantel. Jenny recognized the painting as one of her aunt’s.
“We bought that from Star a few years ago,” Trish supplied. “That was before my Andy passed. He loved that painting. He used to sit right there in that chair and gaze at it for hours.”
“I’m sorry,” Jenny offered. “You must miss him.”
“Only every day,” Trish said frankly. “He was the love of my life, you know.”
“How do you fill your time now?” Jenny asked with genuine interest.
“I try to keep busy,” Trish sighed. “I take care of the garden. We have our share of festivals in Pelican Cove so there’s a lot of opportunities for volunteer work.”
“Do you have any family in town?” Jenny nodded at the pictures on the mantel.
“The kids all live in the city now. They rarely come to visit. You get used to it. They are busy with their lives, I guess.”
Jenny guessed there was a lot Trish wasn’t saying. She seemed like a lonely woman.
Trish excused herself and went inside. She came out a few minutes later with a tray loaded with tall glasses of lemonade. There was a plate with chocolate chip cookies.
“Not as good as yours,” Trish said generously, offering Jenny the cookies.
Jenny took one and bit into it. She gave Trish a thumbs up.
“These are so good. I might ask you to bake some for the café.”
“Really?” Trish perked up
. “Do you mean that?”
“I do,” Jenny promised. “I am stretched thin at the café. I have been thinking about getting some help. The townsfolk will appreciate something made by one of their own.”
Trish regaled Jenny with the different types of cookies she could bake. Jenny’s mind drifted as she sipped her lemonade. She didn’t notice when Trish changed the subject and started talking about music.
“He was such a nice boy,” Trish was saying.
“I’m sorry, who are you talking about?” Jenny asked.
“Tyler, of course,” Trish said. “He sang like an angel.”
“What type of songs did he sing?” Jenny asked. “Something by Elvis?”
“Tyler wrote his own songs,” Trish said with devotion. “He produced his own music too. That guitar just came to life when he played it.”
“Did people come and listen?”
Trish nodded vigorously.
“He always drew a crowd. People tipped handsomely too. He made almost twenty bucks in a day.”
Jenny thought about the Ferrari sitting in Tyler’s garage. Why had he chosen to sing on a street corner in an obscure place like Pelican Cove?
“So he was really popular,” Jenny said. “It’s hard to believe someone wanted to harm him.”
“Not that hard,” Trish said, leaning forward. “And you don’t have to look too far.”
“What are you saying, Trish?”
“You know Peter Wilson, don’t you? That car mechanic? He lives right next door.”
Jenny nodded.
“He had a big grudge against Tyler. You can say he hated him.”
“But why? Tyler’s hardly been here a month.”
“Said Tyler was disturbing the peace. He used to yell at the poor boy every few hours.”
“What did Tyler say?”
“That boy stuck to his guns, said he had a license from the town. He was the troubadour and he was just doing his job.”
“But he could have sung his songs anywhere,” Jenny argued. “Why did he stick to that spot, knowing he was being a bother?”
“Stubborn, I guess,” Trish shrugged. “Or fearless? If someone had threatened me with dire consequences, I wouldn’t risk my life.”
“You don’t think Peter really meant any harm?”
“I hope not,” Trish said. “That’s the man who wants to be our mayor.”