Beaches, Blogging, and Bodies

by Stacey Alabaster

  “But-but what are you doing here?” she asked, getting all flustered again.

  “You hadn’t updated in over a week. I was worried.” I started to feel a bit embarrassed about the whole thing. Had I really just driven three hours for nothing?

  “Worried?” She laughed a little nervously and tugged on her dress a little. “Why, what were you worried for?”

  I shrugged. It did kind of seem a little silly now. “You’re right, I think I may have overreacted!” I let out a little laugh. “I’m feeling kind of embarrassed now.” I turned around and looked at the truck, parked awkwardly in the sand. “Perhaps I ought to head home. I-I don’t want to intrude.”

  Agatha shook her head. “Nonsense. You must come in. Let me show you around town for the afternoon, at least.”

  I nodded and smiled at her. “Sounds great. Let’s take Jasper for a walk along the shore. I’m sure he would like that after being stuck in the truck for so long today. Plus, I think he’s only been to the beach once before, so he’ll think of this as a real treat.”

  As we were walking along the edge of the white sand, Agatha asked for clarification. “You think he’s only been to the beach once before?”

  “Oh, he’s a rescue,” I explained. “Picked him up from the shelter about eight months ago. I know very little of his life before he came to me.”

  “Ah,” Agatha said. She still seemed distracted, but she managed to pull herself back into the present moment to respond. “Well, he is a very lucky dog by the looks of things. You should write about him in your blog more. That is the kind of thing that readers love.”

  I nodded. Good advice. But something was still troubling me. Since I’d driven the whole way, I needed to at least ask. “Speaking of. Agatha, why haven’t you updated your blog lately?”

  She turned her head away from me and kept walking, staring into the ocean. I was about to ask again—maybe she hadn’t heard me?—but Jasper was sprinting away from us and barking like mad at an object further up the beach.

  There were gulls circling above. I thought that was what he was yapping at, at first. He always barked at birds.

  “What is that?” I asked, pointing to something large and long laying on the beach, right at the edge of the water. “It looks like something has washed up. Oh, it isn’t a dolphin, is it?” In distress, I ran toward the object, while Agatha tried to pull me back.

  “Wait, George. Don’t—”

  But I’d already torn myself away from her. I needed to see what Jasper was getting so worked up about.

  It was no dolphin. It was a woman’s body. Washed up on the shore.

  Chapter 3

  I could smell the peppermint tea steeping, even from the porch where I was sitting. Agatha was inside, making the tea in the kitchen while I took a few moments by myself, breathing in the salty ocean air that no longer seemed so cool and calming to the soul.

  Even Jasper was subdued, very unlike his usual self, laying on his stomach on the wooden boards of the porch and only pricking his ears up a little when Agatha walked out with the tea pot and cups, the tray jittering, cups and saucers clinking together in her shaking hands.

  “You know, I bought this place five years ago when I moved here from London, and this is the first time I have ever had a dog stay over at the house,” she murmured.

  I glanced down at Jasper. Did she think we were staying over, then? I had a packed bag, of course, in case I’d arrived and found Agatha’s dead body. But this was a different dead body entirely. A body of a person I didn’t know and I wasn’t sure I had any business getting involved with any of it.

  She was still intent on keeping the subject on anything else.

  “I can’t believe you actually know the woman behind Never Drop a Stitch, much less work with her,” Agatha said, placing the tray down.

  She had added too many tea leaves to the pot and it tasted so strong of peppermint that my eyes almost started to water when I took the first sip.

  “Yes, she goes by the name of Brenda in real life,” I stated, staring at the steam rising from the top of the teacup. “And she can be even more overbearing in real life as well, if you can believe it.”

  Were we ever going to talk about what had happened on the beach?

  Agatha raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Well, I don’t envy you, in that case. She has a lot of readers, though. A lot of people who agree with her view points.”

  I nodded and placed my cup down.

  My first instinct was to hightail it right out of Sandy Point. Push the tea away, hop in the truck, and never look back.

  But Agatha was incredibly shaken. Not only had she over-steeped the tea, she had poured her own tea over the side of the cup, onto the saucer, and her hands were trembling violently when she tried to take a sip. And talking about Brenda was clearly only a distraction.

  She leaned back and stared down at the mess she had made in her saucer.

  “I-I’ve never seen a dead body before.”

  I supposed few people had, except for maybe at funerals, and even then, it was different.

  I offered to make dinner and stay to keep her company if she liked, but that I couldn’t stay much longer than that. “Perhaps I can drive back after that.”

  She looked up at me in shock. “What do you mean, George?”

  “I don’t think I’ll be sticking around,” I said. “This seems like an omen that I ought to leave.”

  Agatha shook her head, a look of fear creeping over her face. “Oh no, George, you’re not being serious, are you?”

  Deadly serious. “I’ve left my dog in the care of Brenda. My other dog, I mean. So you can understand that I don’t want to be away from Pottsville for too long. I should be getting back.”

  But Agatha wasn’t letting me out of her talons quite that easily. Even when I tried to stand up and clear away the tea, she grabbed me by the arm. I felt her fingernails stick into my flesh. Looking down, I saw a desperate look on her face.

  “Please, stay, at least for tonight, George. I don’t think I can bear to be alone in the house tonight after what has happened.”

  I was sympathetic, but I was shaken as well. Hence the inclination to flee before anything else happened. But I could understand not wanting to spend the night alone in the cottage after what had just happened. I paused for a second and silently considered it. It had already been a very long day. Another three-hour drive was not exactly tempting.

  “George. You came to Sandy Point, originally, because you were worried about me, right?”

  I looked down at her and nodded.

  “Well, now I really need your help. Please, you have to stay.”

  I still wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Agatha was acting so strangely. Did I really want to lock myself inside a house with her?

  She had said very little so far about the dead woman. Her name had been Matilda. That was all I knew so far.

  I stared down at Agatha. She still had her hand on my arm, though her grip had loosened a little.

  “Did you know her at all?”

  Agatha shook her head quickly. “No.”

  I nodded. “Okay then.” It was a slight relief. I wanted to believe her.

  Something wasn’t adding up, though. Why was Agatha so shaken up if she didn’t even know the woman? I tried to be understanding. “Tell you what, I’ll stay for a night or two until you are feeling better.”

  “Thank you, George. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  Things looked a bit brighter in the morning. I threw a stick into the edge of the ocean for Jasper to fetch and he leapt in after it, splishing and splashing in the water. He wasn’t the only one pleased to have a little sea-change. I had to admit that waking up to a view of the ocean lapping the white sands was a pretty great start to the day.

  Agatha walked out onto the sand, holding out a tray with a pot of coffee and three mugs. This time, her hands didn’t shake quite so badly, though there was still the touch
of a tremor there. “Jasper doesn’t drink coffee!” I called out with a small laugh. She laughed back a little and explained that one of the cups was full of water.

  I was grateful for the coffee and took my cup from the tray with a bright smile. “Is there any sugar?”

  Agatha nodded. “How many would you like?”

  “Two,” I admitted guiltily.

  “It’s such a beautiful place you have here,” I commented as I sipped my coffee and looked out into the sea, which was still and calm again, and sparkling in the bright sunlight. It was hard to imagine anything could spoil it. But there was an air of unrest in the town that morning. It was impossible to deny it, even out on the beach like this, away from the center of the town. It seemed to drift down from the cliff above, where people seemed to walk slowly and cast their eyes down from above, over the beach.

  “Nothing like this ever happens in Sandy Point,” Agatha commented. “The entire town is in shock,” she explained. “I walked into town to get a newspaper this morning and everyone was in a daze. The shopkeeper couldn’t even meet my eyes.”

  I considered this. Maybe going into town wouldn’t be a bad idea. I might be able to scope a few things out. Not that I was considering staying, or investigating the case. Only, I sort of was. Curiosity had crept up on me and I couldn’t shake it.

  “Hmm, maybe I should go into town as well, grab myself a paper.”

  A look of concern crossed Agatha’s face. “Oh, there’s no need. You can read the one I grabbed,” she said quickly.

  “It’s okay. I would love the walk,” I said. “I haven’t been walking nearly as much as I’m used to lately.” I used to walk absolutely everywhere. I had moved to Pottsville eight months earlier without a car, and only briefly driven during that period, so I was used to walking everywhere. Jasper was used to it too, and he got restless when he had been inactive for too long. Right then, he was bouncing up and down at just the mention of the “W word.”

  I thought I saw Agatha gulp. “Very well,” she said. “Just don’t be too long, okay? I’ll prepare lunch for us and have it waiting for you when you return.”

  Jasper pulled on his leash the entire walk up the cliffside. There was an easy walkway for tourists to use, but it was less easy with a dog tugging me the entire way and I was quite breathless. Seeing as it was unfamiliar territory for both of us, I didn’t want to let him off the leash so I tried to keep him under control. But he was excited about exploring the new unfamiliar territory, wagging his tail all the way, not realizing that what had happened had cast a dark shadow over the place even on this hot and sunny summer day. The town was a changed place now.

  The town was small, but there were quite a few little shops for a town with only five hundred people. I figured it was thanks to the tourist trade. A lot of people came to Sandy Point for day trips and weekend visits, even though it didn’t have a particularly large beach. In fact, the actual beach part of the town was fairly small and secluded. Agatha really had gotten lucky with her prime piece of real estate right there on the sand.

  There was a cafe, a fish shop, a small food market, and then there was the news agency. The scene of the sea air made me feel a little bit breezier as I found the right place.

  “Ah, here we are, Jasper!” I said, leaning down to tie him to a little pole in front of the shop. He whimpered his complaint, of course, but I promised I would only be leaving him alone for a minute or so. It wouldn’t take much longer than that to pick up a copy of the local paper.

  The owner of the newspaper was a man, just past middle age, with greying hair and a gruff expression on his face. He was sitting in the corner on a stool, with a cane leaning against the wall, and had his arms crossed, like he was daring people to enter his store, rather than welcome them into it.

  I called out a cheery hello when I walked in, as much to make sure he’d seen me as anything, since he was still staring out the window. I didn’t want to scare him. I told him he didn’t need to get up if he didn’t want to while I picked up the local paper, the Sandy Point Weekly. “I’ll just leave the two dollars here by the register.”

  “I can handle it,” he said gruffly. “You don’t need to do me any favors.”

  He stood up easily, the cane still leaning against the wall. Oh. Perhaps that didn’t even belong to him, then.

  He eyed me with extreme suspicion. I supposed that was due. I was, after all, a new face in town, the day after a dead body had washed up on the beach. I decided to work my charms on him.

  “It’s a lovely town you have here. Must be like being on permanent vacation.”

  He just stared at me. “Yes, it was a lovely town,” he said, emphasizing the word ‘was.’ He was still staring at me like I was trespassing on his property.

  So much for charms. Luckily, Jasper came to my rescue, as he often did.

  Only it didn’t look anything like a rescue at first, it looked like a disaster. He had somehow gotten free of his chains and raced into the shop, tearing through the aisles of newspapers and books to get to the back of the shop, where he must have mistakenly believed I still was. He ran around and around a greeting card display, causing it to spin wildly, while I just watched in open-mouthed horror.

  The entire rack of greeting cards was knocked down, cards flying out and hitting walls, hundreds of them crashing to the floor when the rack tipped over and landed on the floor.

  I braced myself for the man to yell. Or call the police. Or to literally pick Jasper up and throw him into the street.

  But instead I heard, “Aww, what a lovely dog!”

  Really? That was his reaction.

  “Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry!” I called out. I ran after Jasper and knelt, trying to pick up the greeting cards, but the more I picked up the more seemed to materialize out of thin air. “He does know that he is supposed to stay outside, I promise. He just doesn’t always listen.”

  I gathered up the last of the greeting cards and did my best to put them all back in their proper homes—Mother’s Day, anniversary, congratulations—but I couldn’t find the proper spot for “Happy birthday to a six year old” and became flustered.

  I turned around to see Jasper happily sitting before the man, grinning up at him and lapping up all the pats and attention, his tail wagging at triple speed.

  “Jasper, outside!” I called out.

  The man looked up.

  “Nah, it’s okay, he can stay inside! He’s a good boy, aren’t you, Jasper?”

  I smiled at the man. Now it seemed like we were friends, when only minutes before he had been happy to make an enemy out of me. Thank you, Jasper.

  The man finally introduced himself. “Name’s William, though everyone calls me Bill.”

  I smiled and shook his hand. “Mine is Georgina. But everyone calls me George.” I gave him a little wink. “Well, everyone that matters, anyway.”

  “So, what brings you here to Sandy Point, George?” he asked as he rung up my purchases. I had the newspaper, of course, but I’d also added a few greeting cards into the mix, the ones that I couldn’t find a place for. A guilt purchase, I supposed. I grabbed a couple of postcards and told Bill to add those to the bill as well. I could always write home and let Ryan, Brenda, and Adam know what they were missing in this little slice of paradise.

  “I am staying with a friend, actually,” I said. “You probably know her!” I laughed. Everyone knew everyone in Sandy Point. I thought Pottsville was small with fifteen hundred people, but compared to Sandy Point’s five hundred residents, we were positively metropolitan.

  “What’s her name, this friend of yours?”

  “Agatha,” I said. “I’m staying with her at her cottage on the shore.”

  Bill’s face grew long and grave.

  “Oh, yes. Poor Agatha.” He handed my bag of items to me with a solemn look. His voice was barely louder than a whisper. “Terrible thing that happened to her best friend.”

  I was a little confused. “Best friend?” I asked.
“What happened to her best friend?”

  He stared at me with a look of confusion, and maybe even pity for how dense he thought I was being. “Her best friend just died, George. Matilda.”

  I walked back to the beach in a daze while Jasper walked along happily, a little tired but excited that he had made a new friend. Dogs don’t understand betrayal. I suppose it’s not even possible to betray a dog. Well, except for when you put them in the car, promising you are going to the park, then you wind up at the vet’s office. Still, they don’t feel betrayed, and they still love you even when you’ve technically deceived them. They just want to be friends again right away.

  Why had Agatha lied to me?

  I stared up the cottage and took my time, my steps growing slower and slower, dragging across the sand.

  No wonder she was so distraught. She hadn’t found the body of a stranger, she’d found the body of her best friend. I supposed that maybe I should go easy on her. Maybe she was just in a deep shock.

  Maybe there was another reason for her distress, though. And maybe there was a good reason she’d gone so quiet on the blogosphere the past week…

  Maybe she had something to hide.

  Agatha was cooking something garlicky on the stove when I walked back through the doors of the cottage. From the looks of it, it also involved mushrooms and a lot of onion. The air smelled like them and it made my eyes water. I always cry when I chop an onion. Perhaps she was making a risotto. I didn’t really care, though. My appetite had kind of disappeared since my trip to Bill’s.

  “How did it go in town?” Agatha asked anxiously, turning the stove down while she practically bounced over to me like a rabbit. She looked like she was ready to pounce.

  I slid my purse over my shoulder and placed it on the back of the chair. “I went to the news agency,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. “Met the owner Bill. He was a very interesting man…”

  “Oh yes?” Agatha asked, trying to laugh. She clearly did not find it funny, though.