by Leena Clover
“Why not?”
“It’s too soon, Jenny. We haven’t talked about starting a family. I don’t even know if he wants kids.”
“Of course he wants kids,” Jenny argued. “He’s young and single. He’s never been married. Why wouldn’t he want children of his own?”
Molly considered that for a moment.
“It does seem logical,” she agreed. “But what if he’s mad at me for this?”
“Chris is a sensible young man,” Jenny said firmly. “He’s going to support you through this. I’m sure.”
“We just started seeing each other,” Molly mumbled.
“You love him, don’t you?” Jenny asked.
“This is a big decision,” Molly said, shaking her head. “I am not sure what I want myself.”
“I think you should discuss this with Chris.”
“I don’t want him to influence me either way. Maybe I should sit on this for a while.”
“Is that fair to him?”
“I don’t know, Jenny,” Molly said, finally taking a sip of her tea.
Jenny talked with Molly some more, forcing her to calm down. Heather burst into the café, slightly out of breath.
“I called her,” Molly told Jenny.
Heather collapsed in a chair.
“Sorry I’m late. I was helping Grandma with laundry.”
“Molly has some news,” Jenny smiled. “Tell her, Molly.”
Heather clapped her hands in glee when she heard.
“That’s fantastic! Why don’t you look happy, Molls?”
“She’s still processing it,” Jenny explained. “I was dazed for days when I found out I was pregnant with Nick.”
The girls talked for a while, trying to cheer Molly up.
“Are you coming to the town hall meeting tonight?” Heather asked them. “Barb’s forming her mosquito committee.”
“You mean she was serious about that whole extermination thing?” Jenny asked.
“Of course,” Heather laughed. “Barb’s always serious about her projects. She is asking for volunteers.”
“I have my hands full at the café,” Jenny said.
“That won’t matter to Barb,” Heather told her. “I’m sure she will rope you in one way or the other.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“No one in this town has ever escaped from Barb’s clutches.”
Jenny was tired from her long day but she forced herself to get started on the next day’s prep. An hour later, she went home, her mind in turmoil. Her aunt made her famous baked macaroni and cheese for dinner.
“Where’s Jimmy?” Jenny asked.
“He’s having dinner with some friends tonight,” Star said diplomatically.
Jenny knew that was code for a support group meeting.
“Jimmy’s doing good, huh?” she asked her aunt.
Star blushed and nodded.
“Have you finalized the menu for the memorial?” she asked.
“Why don’t we talk about it now?” Jenny offered. “We need all Petunia’s favorite dishes. She loved my crab puffs, and the tiny pimento cheese sandwiches. We’ll have fish and chips from Ethan’s Crab Shack. I’ll make a few salads.”
“What about desserts?”
“Cupcakes and the chocolate berry cake she liked.”
“People will bring food, you know,” Star warned. “Get ready for a lot of casseroles.”
“Have you made a guest list?”
“Oh honey,” Star said sadly. “We don’t need a guest list. The whole town will turn up.”
“What about Vinny?”
“I expect he will turn up too,” Star said.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Jenny said, fighting back tears. “How are we going to survive without her?”
Chapter 7
A big black SUV with dark windows screeched to a stop in front of the Boardwalk Café. A short, skinny man wearing a red track suit and a white fedora stepped out. He tottered into the café, followed by a tall, beefy man dressed in a leather jacket. The old man sat at a window table. His companion stood behind him.
Jenny greeted the man with a smile.
“What can I get you?”
“You must be Jenny,” the old man said. “Sit down.”
Jenny stared back at him, mystified.
“The boss wants you to sit,” the tall man repeated.
Jenny pulled out a chair and sat down.
“I’m Enzo Bellini,” the old man said.
He spoke in a soft voice, almost a whisper. Jenny had to lean forward to hear his voice.
“Oh,” Jenny said. “Did you know Petunia?”
The man nodded.
“She was my daughter.”
His hand shook as he picked up a salt shaker and played with it.
“I know all about you,” Enzo nodded. “You were good to my baby girl.”
“You have it all wrong,” Jenny said. “She was good to me.”
“I got updates from my man here,” Enzo said. “He talked to my girl every month.”
“Thanks for coming for her funeral,” Jenny said. “I know you probably wanted to take her home with you.”
Don Enzo pulled out a cigar from his pocket. The man standing behind him lit it for him. Jenny didn’t dare to tell him about the No Smoking rule.
“Don’t know what she saw in this place,” Enzo said. He used a string of profanities to describe the place. “But this little bitty town was home to her.”
“You must have missed her all these years.”
“How about some coffee?” the old man whispered, puffing on his cigar. “I hear you can bake a cake or two.”
Jenny leapt up and went inside. She made a fresh pot of coffee and placed some cupcakes on a plate. She took them out to the old man.
Enzo’s hand trembled as he picked up the coffee cup. Some of the dark liquid spilled over.
“I have the Parkinson’s,” he told Jenny. “It’s supposed to get worse.”
Jenny guessed the old man was well into his eighties. He was in quite good health, considering.
“Tell me about Petunia,” she urged.
“Never liked that name,” Enzo spat. “What kind of darn fool name is that? Her name was Leona. She was as strong and brave as a lion.”
“Was she your only child?”
“The only one who gave me grandkids. My sons died long ago.”
“Must have been hard to see her go.”
Enzo shrugged.
“Leona, she had a mind of her own. She married young but she never liked the family business.”
“What did her husband do?”
“He was my capo,” Enzo said.
Jenny decided she needed to look up some mob lingo.
“Kind of like a manager,” Enzo explained, guessing her thoughts. “He got gunned down.”
“Oh!” Jenny stared back at Enzo, wide eyed.
“All in a day’s work,” Enzo said with a shrug. “Leona said it was the last straw. She wasn’t having any more of it.”
“How did she come to Pelican Cove? Did you know anyone here?”
“She got into the car and started driving. She trusted this guy called Fabio. He was her husband’s right hand man. I made him follow her. He told me she had stopped in some small seaside town.”
“It’s not that far from Jersey,” Jenny mused.
“It’s far enough,” Enzo cackled. “I bought her a house and this café. Told Fabio to stay back here and keep an eye on her.”
“Did you come visit?”
Enzo shook his head mournfully.
“She didn’t want to talk to me in those days. Then I got busted. Spent twenty years in the slammer. I made Leona promise me something. She gave monthly reports to Fabio. He told me how things were going with her.”
“What about her kids?”
“Leaving them was the hardest thing she ever did. She wanted them to go with her but they both refused. They were old enough to say what they wanted.”
“So Vinny and his brother grew up without a mother?”
“They were already grown. Vinny was 17 when my Leona left. Baby – that’s Charles, Vinny’s brother - was 15.”
“So there’s no reason why Vinny would have a grudge against Petunia?”
“That boy is a complete idiot,” Enzo hissed. “I don’t trust him. I don’t trust him at all.”
“You think he shot Petunia?” Jenny asked with a gasp.
Enzo whistled through the gap in his teeth. “He could have. Vinny has a temper. He shoots first and asks questions later.”
Jenny wondered how much she could believe the old man.
“Did Vinny know Petunia lived here in Pelican Cove?”
Enzo looked puzzled.
“I don’t know.”
He struggled to stand up and swayed on his feet. The henchman behind him caught him by the elbow and steadied him.
“Thank you for being there for my daughter,” Enzo said to Jenny. “I won’t forget it.”
He shuffled out slowly and walked toward his car. The car had been running all this time with headlights on. It rolled forward as soon as Enzo slammed the door, spewing smoke in the atmosphere. Jenny stood staring after it.
“What are you staring at?” Heather tapped her on the shoulder.
“Heather!” Jenny exclaimed with a start. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“I’m here to assist with lunch.”
“Thanks, I could really use the help.”
Jenny stirred a pot of minestrone soup while Heather spooned crab salad on slices of bread. The aroma of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies wafted through the kitchen. Heather arranged two sandwiches on a plate and took a photo.
“That’s for Instagram,” she told Jenny. “You need to let people know you are still serving crab.”
“Social media is the last thing on my mind right now,” Jenny confessed.
“I know,” Heather winced. “But don’t forget you have a business to run, Jenny. This café is Petunia’s legacy. We need to keep it alive and flourishing.”
“When did you get so smart?” Jenny joked.
“I dropped the ball this past year,” Heather said seriously. “I fought with Grandma, neglected the inn and dated one deadbeat after another. I’m turning over a new leaf now.”
“Good for you,” Jenny praised. “So what’s the plan?”
“The inn hasn’t been doing well,” Heather shared. “I need to rebuild our brand and drum up more business. That’s the first thing on my agenda.”
“That’s a great idea, Heather,” Jenny said solemnly. “Let me know if I can help.”
“I might take you up on that,” Heather nodded. “We will continue to serve breakfast from the Boardwalk Café. That’s not going to change. In fact, I am going to advertise it in our new brochures.”
“Why don’t we offer a discount to your guests?” Jenny asked eagerly. “50% off to guests of the Bayview Inn. That will help us both build business.”
“Alright!” Heather crowed, giving Jenny a high five. “Now, if only we could get rid of these mosquitoes.”
“You sound like Barb Norton,” Jenny laughed.
“She has a point, you know,” Heather said. “We had two guests check out yesterday because of the mosquitoes. Said they didn’t come here to get Zika.”
“That’s crazy!” Jenny moaned. “Does that mean we should go volunteer for Barb’s committee?”
“Didn’t you hear? Barb has already dispatched her minions. They are going to inspect gardens and yards and report to her.”
“Report what?”
“I guess we’ll know soon enough,” Heather laughed. “Barb’s not going to be quiet about it.”
Jenny breezed through the lunch rush with Heather’s help. She packed a couple of sandwiches and cookies in a basket. It reminded her of how Petunia used to pack lunch for her and Adam. Jenny walked to the police station, hoping Adam hadn’t eaten yet. She hadn’t called ahead for a reason.
“Is that for me?” Adam smiled when he saw the basket on her arm. “I’m starving.”
“Let’s eat,” Jenny nodded, unpacking a couple of plates.
She unwrapped the sandwiches and opened a packet of chips. Adam tore the plastic wrap off a dill pickle and munched on it.
“How was your meeting with the don?” he asked.
“You know about that?”
“Don Enzo or the Hawk is the head of the Bellini family. Of course we are keeping a close eye on him.”
“He looks like a harmless old man.”
“This harmless old man has confessed to multiple heinous crimes.”
“You don’t think he would harm his own daughter?”
Adam shook his head.
“He has a strong alibi. We checked.”
“Have you learned anything new?”
“We found the type of gun used to shoot Petunia,” Adam told her. “It’s an advanced type. I’m sure no one in Pelican Cove owns that kind of a gun.”
“Does that mean she was shot by a tourist?”
Adam was quiet. Jenny talked out loud as she ate her lunch.
“Why would a tourist do that? What motive would they have to kill Petunia?”
“You hit the nail on the head,” Adam agreed. “I admit I am stumped.”
“Would a mob man own that kind of gun?” Jenny asked.
“They might,” Adam said. “And there’s one person in town that fits the bill.”
“Who is it?”
“Peter Wilson,” Adam said reluctantly. “Or Fabio Lombardi. Do you know he was called The Triggerman back in the day? He was training to be a capo. He is rumored to have gunned down a dozen men once. But nothing was ever proven.”
Jenny thought of the tall, quiet man she had met in the auto shop. She trembled as she imagined him holding a gun and shooting someone.
“He seemed pretty normal.”
“As far as we know, Wilson gave all that up. He’s been living on the straight and narrow all these years.”
“So you don’t suspect him at all?”
“He would have been my top suspect,” Adam sighed. “But plenty of people saw him in the emergency room. He never left the building. There’s no way he could have been at the beach between five and eight that morning.”
“What about Vinny?” Jenny asked. “He says he was at home with his wife.”
“Guys like Vinny don’t get their hands dirty, Jenny. They hire people.”
“What about those guys who follow him around? Six Pac or Smiley? They all carry guns.”
“We are checking their alibis now.”
“I wonder why Petunia’s other son hasn’t come here yet.”
“Charles Bellini?” Adam asked. “He left the business long ago, just like Petunia. He’s a school teacher out in California.”
“We are not getting anywhere,” Jenny said, sounding defeated. “What if it was a tourist who was just driving through town? We will never find him.”
“He will slip up somewhere,” Adam promised. “We will catch him then.”
“Are we meeting later tonight?” Jenny asked shyly. “It’s been a while since you came for a walk on the beach.”
“I’ve been busy,” Adam said curtly. Then he gave her a wink. “But I might be heading home early tonight.”
Jenny walked out of the police station, reflecting on how they seemed to have no tangible leads. Were they ever going to find out what happened to Petunia?
She decided to take the scenic route back to the café. A familiar figure squatted on the beach, scrawling something in the sand with his stick. Jenny ventured closer and greeted him.
The man stared back at her with eyes the color of the ocean.
“Hello there,” she said. “You never told me your name.”
“Mason,” the man mumbled.
“I’m Jenny. Would you like a crab sandwich? I miscalculated and now I have plenty left over. I’ll be eating them all week if you don’t help me out.”
Chapter 8
Another sunny day dawned in Pelican Cove. The Magnolias stuck to their routine, silently coming to terms with their grief.
Star crumbled a blueberry muffin with her fingers and looked around at her friends. Molly was buried in a book and Betty Sue was busy knitting. Heather was fiddling with her phone as usual. Jenny stared at the ocean, a sad look in her eyes.
“Have you talked to any more people about that day?” Star asked her.
Jenny shook her head.
“The only people I talked to were regulars, people who go for a run or walk on the beach in the morning. But that doesn’t include any tourists who might have been staying in town at that time.”
“What about that camera?” Heather said, pointing at a spot on the roof. “Have you checked the footage for that day?”
Jenny’s eyes grew wide as she turned to look up at the roof.
“I forgot all about it.”
The Boardwalk Café had been the target of vandalism a few months ago. Adam had insisted they install security cameras at the front and back of the café. The camera captured a small portion of the beach adjoining the café on both sides.
“I am surprised the police haven’t been here for those tapes,” Molly said.
“Do you think we’ll find something?” Jenny asked eagerly.
“Only one way to know,” Heather said dryly. “Does that thing come with a tape of some kind?”
“Petunia insisted we get the best system available,” Jenny said soberly. “It’s state of the art. Uploads the video online, I think. I read the manual when we first got it but now I forgot all about it.”
Heather sprang up and walked closer to the wall. She peered up at the camera and fed something into her phone.
“Give me a minute,” she said. She looked up a few minutes later. “This should come with a recorder. Do you have a DVR like box somewhere? Something that looks like a DVD player?”
“I think so,” Jenny said uncertainly. “Let’s check in the office.”
The office was nothing but a small closet that housed a computer and other knick knacks. Petunia had used the space for doing accounts and keeping track of inventory. Jenny had hardly ever gone in there, assuming it was Petunia’s private domain.
Heather pointed to a black box that sat on a shelf.