Sunny Side Up (Lake Erie Mysteries Book 1)

by Maureen K. Howard

  Just then, the door chimes jangled and Ruby’s husband, Roger, swooped in on a gust of pipe-scented air. “Hello, my friend! Welcome back to the island.” He gave me a big hug, nearly spilling the entire tall glass of iced tea he carried with him everywhere. He made a quick save and I discreetly blotted at the dribble of tea on my sleeve, then put just a bit more space between his swinging glass and my new Michael Kors top. “I just talked to your husband across the street. I hear he was making friends with the island’s new full-time detective.”

  “Detective?” June’s journalist antennae were vibrating. “Since when?”

  “You mean that hottie in the running shorts I just met?” I couldn’t help myself. He was definitely a 9.9 on the hunk-o-meter. “Hey, June, if you get into any trouble this weekend, maybe you’ll get to meet Detective Dreamy. I’m sure you can come up with some obscure island ordinance that was just meant to be challenged.”

  Roger gave us a conspiratorial look and huddled us closer. Using his top-secret attempt at a whisper, he began. “Yeah. Name’s Jack Morgan. He moved here in January. He had to move all his stuff by plane since the ferry wasn’t even running. This was the first winter in over a hundred years that the lake was frozen solid. Since it’s taking so long to thaw, the water is having trouble rebounding to its usual temperature for this time of year.” Roger grinned and held his tea-bearing hand in the air. “I certainly wouldn’t recommend swimming this afternoon.”

  “Don’t worry, Roger, I don’t plan to go in the water until probably the Fourth of July. Just the thought of that cold water makes me shiver!”

  June wanted to hear more about the new resident. “So why was he in such a hurry to move to an island in the middle of a frozen lake?”

  “As much trouble as it was, he didn’t seem to mind. Looked more like he was in a hurry to get away from something in his old life than to start something new. Rumor has it Morgan used to be a big-city cop in Chicago. His partner and best friend was killed in the line of duty, so he moved to Kelleys Island to get away from the high crime and stress of his job. I think he’s dealing with something bigger than your typical grief, myself. I also heard that his partner was his girlfriend, or fiancée, or maybe even wife. I have a hard time keeping all the gossip straightened out. Maybe you can ask him yourself. He’s friendly enough, but keeps his personal life all tucked away. I hear he’s very good at what he does and he doesn’t always play by the rules. Of course, that’s just what I hear. You girls better watch your Ps and Qs while you’re here.”

  All of my attention had been focused on Roger’s story, and I hadn’t even noticed that June had wandered off and was now standing in front of the cash register, exchanging her credit card for another one of Ruby’s signature bags, which I assumed contained the matching bottom to the pretty camisole she had just purchased.

  “I wonder if he likes green.” June was evidently thinking out loud as she peeked into the bag containing her second sexy purchase of the day. Who could blame her? She absentmindedly swung the pretty red bag that dangled from her wrist. Her lips were turned up at the corners, and I was pretty sure I could guess what she was thinking about.

  The smile on Roger’s face lit up the room. His laugh caused his Hawaiian shirt to flap against his ample belly and his glass of tea to wobble dangerously in his beefy grip once again. I backed up a few more inches to avoid another tea splash.

  Ruby looked over at June and then at her husband with a twinkle in her eye. “Love, maybe you should introduce Detective Morgan to June here. Don’t you think they’d make a cute couple?”

  “Ruby, that’s a whale of an idea!” Roger set his sweating glass on the counter so he could take his Ray Bans off the top of his bald head and polish them with the corner of his colorful shirt. He gave June a mischievous wink before putting his mirrored specs back on his face, retrieving his beverage, and heading for the door.

  Before he could turn the handle, Ruby stopped his exit with a gentle but firm grip on his arm. “Hold on a minute, Roger. The girls want to make a stop at the new boutique on the other side of the island. What’s it called? Oh, yes, Jewel of the Bay. You should probably tell Hamm out there where it is in case these two get turned around and end up lost.”

  “How do you get lost on a little island? Oh. Never mind. All right, I’ll go have a chat with the boy.”

  With his free hand on the doorknob, Roger stopped and swung around. Third time was the charm. Tea sloshed on his knee-high, white athletic socks and soaked his brown leather sandals. Talk about a walking fashion faux pas. But you had to love the guy. I hope I still find Hamm as endearing, with all of his quirks, fifteen years from now.

  Framed in the doorway, Roger directed one last comment toward us. “Wait till you gals meet the owner of that place—Sirena Divine! Can you believe that name? Red hair, green eyes, legs up to there… Oh, well, you get the idea. At any rate, she’s a flashy one, you betcha!”

  As the door shut behind him, we heard Roger’s booming voice calling out to Hamm. “It’s your lucky day, Hammond! I just set you up with another shopping stop!”

  Chapter Seven

  “Left or right at the intersection?” June hollered over her shoulder to Hamm. She was almost a block ahead of him. I was somewhere in between. “That desk job of yours is doing a number on your legs, counselor! Are your hamstrings getting tight?”

  I pretended I didn’t hear her. Hamm ignored the jab, but I could tell he was pumping his pedals a little more vigorously. June rolled her bike to a stop at the intersection and waited for the two of us to catch up. Hamm silently pulled ahead and rounded the corner to the right.

  I caught up to him and we rolled along, enjoying the sunshine and warm air for about a quarter of a mile. “What do you think it would be like to live here year-round, Hamm?”

  I admired the houses along the street and imagined myself sipping a glass of wine on a patio overlooking the lake, enjoying the tranquility of island life.

  “As much as I love coming here every summer,” Hamm replied, “I don’t think either of us has it in us to be isolated in the dead of winter, relying on little airplanes for supplies when the lake freezes over.” He smiled at me and added, “And what would you possibly do when you ran out of wine?”

  “Ouch. So much for that idea.”

  June hung back a little. She knew she was getting on Hamm’s nerves again, so she amused herself for a while humming the top ten tunes of the eighties.

  I was the first to spot the boutique. “Wow! I never knew turquoise sea horses and pink, glass blowfish could look so natural hanging from trees. I have to admit, they give the place a quirky sort of charm.”

  June stopped singing abruptly and squealed in delight, slamming her bicycle to a halt right in front of an eight-foot tall ceramic mermaid in the yard holding a sign announcing “Jewel of the Bay” in large, multicolored script. This place was right up her alley. Hamm shuddered and braked his bike well away from the surreal seascape.

  I was caught off guard and tumbled right into the middle of them. We were doing our best imitation of a three-ring circus, bike-stacking act just as a flashy Mercedes E350 Cabriolet convertible flew by shooting gravel and dust all over the three of us. It screamed to a stop in front of the store, just inches from Hamm’s back tire.

  “Hey, asshole! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  That was June. I was still gasping for air, and Hamm was glaring at the back of the driver’s head. There was something oddly familiar about that rakishly tousled sandy hair and broad shoulders. His starched lavender Ralph Lauren shirt looked smart against the lunar blue metallic of the car, but was decidedly out-of-place in this laid-back island setting.

  When the rude fellow turned around and flashed his professionally straightened and whitened smile at us, we stopped dead in our tracks and then cried out in unison, “Clifton!”

  June was the first to recover. She recognized her ex-husband a split second before Hamm and I did. Funny, how once you reali
ze you know an obnoxious, arrogant person, you become a little more tolerant of his unrefined tendencies. But just a little.

  June sprung to the side of the car and stuck her head over the door, just inches from the driver’s face. “What in the name of all things superficial and material are you doing here, Sterling?”

  “Well, well, well, it’s great to see you too. How are you, Juniper? Francie, Hamm, glad to see the two of you as well!” Sterling took June’s arm and began to pat it solicitously.

  “Really. Why are you here? I know you’re no fan of fresh air, or for that matter, anything having to do with the outdoors or nature.” The arm patting was clearly not working for June, so she shoved his hand off of her bicep and stood about three feet back from the car.

  “June, darling, that was harsh. But if you must know, I’m working, actually. Well, mostly.”

  I was impressed. If this guy was a professional dancer, he couldn’t have pulled off a better shuffle.

  He continued his explanation. “I met a lovely lady while doing a series on local attractions and vacation destinations. Her name is Sirena. She owns this place.”

  Talk about a small world. It makes sense, though. Both June and Clifton are journalists of sorts. Clifton is the anchorman for the number-three-rated local network, and is on a mission to achieve star status. He had done some pretty strange things to get his handsome face noticed by the national stations.

  Cliff remembered his manners. He exited the vehicle like he was stepping out on a red carpet. He grabbed the linen sports jacket on the front seat, artfully swung it over his shoulder, and swaggered his way over to us. “So, Hamm, aren’t you coming inside? You look a little shaky. Sirena’s got air conditioning.”

  “Cliff, my poor husband is shaking because he can’t stand the thought of going into the store. He’s had this reaction before.”

  Hamm was allergic to shopping the way Clifton was allergic to trees, grass, pollen, peanuts, and seafood to name just a few.

  I was tired of standing around. I needed to see what was beyond the beckoning mermaid. I turned back to speak to June, but she had already slipped inside.

  “You two will have to excuse me. I have to help June with her research.”

  I gave up on grace and finally threw my bicycle on the top of the heap in the yard while calling out, “Enjoy your visit, boys!”

  I left the two men standing by the curb to sort things out in the phantasmic shadow of the giant mermaid and headed into the whimsical shop. June was in the middle of a lively conversation with a most enchanting woman. Even on stage, I had never seen a character like Sirena Divine. I was beginning to wonder if the island suddenly had some magnetic pull, attracting gorgeous new residents.

  Sirena was nearly six feet tall. Standing next to June, they were a study in contrasts. Ms. Divine’s show-stopping copper curls cascaded down her back, well past her tiny waistline. Her alabaster skin was luminous. On an island where people compete for the darkest tan, she looked like a pearl in a basket of acorns. I noticed right away that the mermaid on the front lawn bore a striking resemblance to the proprietor. Her long, iridescent skirt flowed around her ankles in waves of aqua, periwinkle, and seafoam. Bright coral toenails peeked out from glittery sandals. I know because I was seriously looking for a fishtail. Sirena was borderline mythical.

  June didn’t seem particularly dazzled by the lady’s ethereal appearance, but she was definitely impressed with her repartee. The two women stood in front of a counter filled with glittering, jewel-toned bottles of essential oils exactly like the bottles I had admired earlier at Ruby’s Treasure Chest. Both of them were waving their hands in animated emphasis. This was starting to look like a debate contest. Finally, June got to the point.

  “So, how do you know Sterling, Ms. Divine?”

  “Oh, he’s been in here nearly every day since the first of the month.” She seemed quite unaffected by June’s straight-up attitude. “He’s putting together a piece for his local Sunday morning talk show and seems quite taken with my little store.”

  “I don’t think it’s the store that has him mesmerized,” June informed Sirena. “Clifton has an eye for pretty ladies, especially those who would photograph well. Has he asked you yet to do an on-air companion interview? I’m sure he would love to appear beside you on TV.”

  Sirena’s eyes narrowed. She absentmindedly picked up a small glass vial from the counter display, took the stopper out and inhaled its fragrance. I wanted to ask her what was in it. Maybe I needed some.

  Sirena set the pretty bottle down and picked up where she left off with June. “You seem to know a great deal about Mr. Sterling. Have you two met before?”

  “You could say that. I was married to him for two years.”

  As if on cue, Clifton strutted through the front door and took in the scene. He never skipped a beat. Putting his arm protectively around Sirena’s waist, he faced June and said, “I see you two are getting acquainted.”

  You had to give the guy credit. He had an endless capacity for good-natured charm (or bullshit as the case may be). I almost fell under his spell as he smiled his million-dollar smile at me. But I knew better.

  “I can’t convince Hamm to come inside, Francie. He hasn’t changed much, has he?”

  I answered him in my head. “Neither have you, Cliff. Neither have you.” I smiled politely, took a quick peek out the front window to make sure Hamm actually was okay, then turned my attention to the pretty seashell serving dishes on the nearest shelf.

  Clifton looked at Sirena and then at June. “Let’s all get together later tonight at the Island House. We can catch up over martinis.” He looked at me then and said, “Bring Hamm. There’s no retail, and we can share a nice cigar.”

  Once more, I smiled, and once more I answered him in my head. “You mean, bring Hamm so you can mooch one of his good cigars.” In spite of his powers of attraction, the guy rubbed me the wrong way. Being skilled in the performing arts, I merely smiled politely and nodded.

  June didn’t seem to hold the same grudge against her former husband. She answered for us all. “We’ll be there around eight. Now if you’ll excuse us, Francie and I are dying to check out the rest of the store.”

  Clifton and Sirena took up whispering and giggling like teenagers. They ducked out of sight behind a diaphanous curtain of pearlescent fabric, which I assumed to be a storeroom or an office. I’m sure they had business to attend to. June headed for the back of the store where a sign advertised, “Naughty, Nauti.” Cheesy, for sure, but it got my attention.

  We spent the next half hour “researching” the merchandise for June’s article. We perused the shelves and racks, making copious notes on everything we found. There was an array of provocative clothing from pretty to promiscuous, reading material, massage oils, beautifully scented candles in varying sizes, and some mysterious objects I was actually too embarrassed to ask about.

  June had left her camera back at the inn, but she used her iPhone to snap pictures of dozens of products and email them to herself. She would have plenty of raw material for article.

  “June, I think we’ve about overstayed our welcome, and it’s almost closing time. We better buy something and head back to town.”

  I took a last look around and grabbed the most innocuous items I saw: two water rafts each the size of a paperback novel. The label promised: Just add water for a sassy, sea adventure to remember. Whatever that meant. The twins’ birthday was coming up, and I thought they might enjoy some new rafts to float on at the condo pool when they came home for their first summer visit. I figured a person was never too old for a new water toy.

  “You must be buying those for your kids, since you can’t swim to save your life, and you sure wouldn’t want to mess up your hair in a swimming pool!”

  “Well, June,” I retorted, “at least I don’t own a boat I have no clue how to operate!”

  I dug around in my royal blue Coach bag, which I wore cross-body so I could have two free hands
for shopping and bike riding. I located Hamm’s platinum Visa card and offered it to Sirena who was back on the sales floor looking a little flushed.

  “Thanks so much for stopping by, ladies. It was so nice to meet you both. I guess I’ll see you tonight at the Island House.” She smiled sweetly as she rang up my selections then handed my card and purchases over the counter to me.

  I tossed my purchases into my handbag where they sunk to the bottom like rocks in a deep well, and headed out the door to rescue Hammond.

  “So what do you think of Cliff’s new girlfriend?” June asked as I took one last look behind me through the front window.

  “June, she winked at me! Why did she wink at me?” June and I glanced back through the window only to see Sirena and Clifton nose to nose, giggling again like teenagers on a first date. “She seems nice enough, but isn’t it going to be awkward having dinner with your ex-husband and his new girlfriend?”

  June gave a noncommittal shrug. “It doesn’t bother me. Cliff and I still get along just as well as we ever did. That spark burned out almost as soon as the ink on our marriage certificate dried. I just wish it had happened a little sooner so we could have avoided all of the hassle.”

  “Yeah, without that spark, as you say, Clifton Sterling becomes a bit less attractive and a lot more like an irresponsible, self-centered child.”

  “It is what it is. He can be the mermaid’s problem now. Besides, if the stars are lined up in my favor, maybe there will be some other gorgeous new islander in need of a dinner companion at the restaurant. They seem to be falling from the trees around here.”

  Chapter Eight

  We needed to get back to the marina so we could get ready for the evening. I felt bad that we never made it back into town for pizza, so I offered to make snacks when we got back. Cheese and crackers would have to do. Hamm and I parted ways with June at the inn and rode the short distance back to the boat where I threw together a nice combination of cheese, crackers and grapes. I was wishing I had that adorable fish plate from Ruby’s. I might just have to make a return trip.