Mrs. Ortiz looked shocked and she glanced around, suddenly realizing that their conversation was being witnessed by everyone in Petrie’s general store. “I’m sure there must be an explanation for it,” she said calmly, but her face said otherwise. Pulling Danielle back a bit, she cupped her daughter’s small chin in her hand and gently smiled. “Honey, where did you get the money? Is what Mrs. Mason says true?”
There was a pause, then Danielle slowly nodded and pulled a small zip-up pouch out of her pocket. Carefully opening it, she handed it to her mother and sniffled. “Um, there’s actually three in there, and the one she took away from me,” she said with a hiccup, and Mrs. Ortiz’s mouth dropped open.
“You have four hundred dollars? Honey, where did you get these?” She knelt down, her worried eyes now level with her daughter’s. “You only got ten dollars from Gramma for your birthday money.”
Danielle shook her head, her eyes pleading and her face sincere. “It isn’t my birthday money. I found it on the beach when I walked the dog this morning. It was right at the edge of the water.”
There were several sharp exclamations and some whispered conversation from the people clustered around the store, and Amanda wasn’t surprised when a couple of people began heading quickly out the door. The possibility of finding hundred dollar bills on the beach was a big deal, and most of the people in town knew which part of the Cove would be closest to the Ortiz’s house. Winter on the coast was tough for businesses and employers, and free money would be a big help to many families.
Still kneeling, Mrs. Ortiz smiled, ignoring the people brushing past her. “Thank you for telling me the truth, Danielle, but I wish you’d told me when you first found it.” She straightened up and took the little girl’s hand, getting a hesitant gap-toothed grin in return. “Let’s go back to the bakery and I’ll pay for your candy, and then we can walk over and talk to your Daddy about the money, okay?”
Brushing past Mrs. Mason, Mrs. Ortiz escorted Danielle out the front door of Petrie’s, the little bell over the door tinkling a goodbye as they left.
Amanda instantly turned to Mrs. Granger. “Money on the beach. What do you know about this?” She knew that any news this big would be all over town within minutes.
The old lady held both hands up in mock protest, still gripping her knitting with one thumb. “Not a word, I swear! If I’d heard about it don’t you think I’d be down on the sand with everyone else? I’d be pushing my walker along as fast as possible. I could use some extra cash, too, doncha know.” She gestured toward the door. “I think Claudia needs to take a chill pill. She had no cause to be scaring that little girl like she did, and I intend to tell her so the next time I see her.” Mrs. Granger’s face was resolute, her wrinkled lips pressed together, and Amanda had no doubt that her 90-year-old friend was plotting on how she was going to tell Mrs. Mason off.
For some reason, Amanda suddenly thought of Lisa and the fact that she ran the local newspaper. “If this gets into the news we’re going to have all sorts of treasure seekers down there.”
Mrs. Granger shook her head. “We already do. You’re the one who started putting out all those exotic seashells and glass floats down on the beach. You didn’t do this to pull some sort of weird publicity stunt, did you?”
“Do I look like someone who has extra hundred dollar bills to just fling around?” Amanda scoffed as she picked up her purse, recently bought from a secondhand store. “Trust me, if I had that sort of cash I wouldn’t be throwing it around the beach and hoping someone trips across it.”
“I didn’t think so, but that money had to come from somewhere or someone.” Swiveling her walker around, Mrs. Granger awkwardly pulled herself upright and nodded at Amanda. “No way I’m gonna miss seeing the feeding frenzy that’s happening down at the Cove right now. You drive,” she said, determinedly heading for the door.
Amanda trailed behind as she dug her keys out of her coat pocket, thinking about the possibility of finding hundred dollar bills. “Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Mrs. Granger turned and gave her a broad wink. “Get lucky? Honey, I’m not that kinda girl. Well, not anymore.”
Chapter 3
It was worse than she’d expected. There were two small parking lots at the cove and they were both already crammed full of cars, with people streaming toward the waterline and the uncertain possibility of finding oodles of cash. The setting sun glinted off the saltwater as dozens of people hurried across the beach, heads bowed as if in prayer. Some scuffed the sand with their shoes while others jogged along the edge of the waves, hoping to catch a glimpse of a waterlogged bill and scaring the seagulls as they went.
Amanda helped Mrs. Granger out of the car, making sure that she had her walker. The sand was soft near the parking lot and after going just ten feet the old lady sighed in frustration. “Dagnabbit, there’s no way I can push this stupid thing all the way to the water. You go on without me.”
Amanda nodded and Mrs. Granger sat down on the plastic seat of her walker to watch the strange scene unfold before her. Amanda gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “If I find anything, I’ll split it with you 50-50,” she said, and gave Mrs. Granger’s hand a final pat before she jogged down to the edge of the waves.
Madeline Wu was nearly breathless with excitement. “Did you hear about the money? Someone said they were finding bundles of hundred dollar bills down here!”
Gossip in a small town, Amanda thought. It’s just like playing a game of Post Office. She shook her head. “It was Danielle Ortiz who found it, and it wasn’t bundles of hundreds; it was four single bills.”
Madeleine stuck out her bottom lip in disappointment. “Really? I don’t think anyone’s found anything down here yet.”
There was a murmur from the crowd and Amanda turned to see what the commotion was. George Ortiz, the police chief, was striding purposefully toward the beach with his wife Amy and little Danielle in tow. Amanda had seen that expression on his face before, all business even if his voice sounded friendly. The first day she worked on the Inn he had questioned her about what she was doing and she got the distinct impression that if he hadn’t liked her answer she was going to be in serious trouble.
“So, how many millions have we found? Anyone care to share their grand total?” George’s voice boomed across the beach. Danielle held up her small hand and her daddy automatically closed his fingers around hers. “You all have a right to be here as long as everyone’s polite and there’s no trouble. Just don’t go digging up the rocks or anything like that. I would like you to stop by the police station and just tell me if you find any money and show it to me. It may help me understand where the money came from the first place. Okay?”
The crowd nodded and was quieter as they went back to their searching, the police chief’s words ringing in their ears. Amanda strolled along, too, finally picking up a stick to poke at clumps of seaweed near the shore line. There was a brief flurry of excitement when Mary Ann Bates squealed in glee, but she quickly had to explain that her discovery was only a water-soaked label from a soup can and definitely not a hundred dollar bill. The people surrounding her, so excited just a moment before, turned glumly back to their own searches.
After twenty minutes of walking and chatting with other people, Amanda gave up her search as fruitless. The wind wasn’t bad but it was still chilly and she headed back toward Mrs. Granger. The old lady was surrounded by a flock of fat seagulls, very focused on the sandwich she was tearing into small pieces and occasionally throwing their way.
“They like pickle and bologna,” she told Amanda, without looking up. “Poor dears.”
“They don’t look like they’re starving to me.” Amanda glanced up at the several birds flying a few feet about them, apparently hoping to intercept one of the tossed bits of food. “You keep that up and you’re going to get bird poop on your head. Ready to go?”
Mrs. Granger threw the last of the sandwich to her winged friends, who fought over it a bit until a lucky on
e gulped it down. Brushing her hands together to get rid of the crumbs, she got up and turned the walker toward the parking lot. “You can give me a ride over to the coffeehouse. Meg lost a bet with me and I’m gonna go collect my winnings.”
Amanda walked beside her, almost scared to ask. “What was the bet?”
“I told her there was a group of people on a South Pacific island who worship Prince Phillip as their deity.”
Her young companion gave her a dubious look. “You mean Prince Phillip of England? That’s not true.”
Mrs. Granger stopped and grinned broadly, nearly every tooth in her perfect dentures on display. “Wanna bet? I saw it on Jeopardy.”
Realizing how eager Mrs. Granger was, Amanda reconsidered. “Um, no, thanks. What did you win?”
The old lady was still smiling when she got to Amanda’s car and waited for her to open the door. “She has to give me six of her best cinnamon rolls today, with extra frosting, and then come by next month and wash all the windows in my house.”
Amanda expertly helped her into the car and folded her walker to stash in the back. “Then I’m glad I didn’t take your bet. I hate doing windows.”
Chapter 4
The moment Amanda and Mrs. Granger walked into Cuppa, they could tell that something was different. The little coffeehouse was normally a cinnamon-scented haven for people with laptops or friends meeting for a hot drink and some conversation. Today there was a tension in the air and Amanda could hear raised voices near the front counter.
Amanda smiled at Tory Sherwood, who was mopping the back room by the industrial-sized oven. Meg was standing behind the glass counter, a tray of warm raspberry scones in her hand, and Amanda’s friend Lisa was sitting at the closest table. She was leaning forward and apparently arguing with the young man in front of her. Even though his back was to the door, Amanda could tell from his body language that whatever he was talking about with Lisa wasn’t making him happy.
Mrs. Granger wheeled over to the table, pivoted her walker, and unceremoniously plopped down onto the seat.
“You must be Sage.” It wasn’t a question. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Your aunt is one of my favorite people around here.” The old lady stuck out her blue-veined hand and the surprised teenager uncrossed his arms and gently shook it. From the tight-lipped look on Lisa’s face, Amanda knew that the conversation with her nephew must’ve upset her.
Meg stashed the scones in the glass display case and bustled around the counter with two mugs of coffee. Setting them down, she kissed her grandmother on the cheek and gave Amanda a sideways hug.
“You want to come see what I’ve got fresh-baked today?” she asked, but Amanda could tell from the look in her eye that she actually was trying to get Amanda away from the table.
Safely out of earshot of the trio at the table, Meg kept her voice down as she whispered frantically to her friend. “Lisa says he’s got to concentrate on school so he’ll graduate on time, and Sage says he wants to get a job so he can buy a car. I think Lisa’s worried that if he gets a car he’ll just drive off. Then, who knows what will happen to him?” She absent-mindedly mixed a large mocha for Amanda, knowing her usual drink.
Amanda took the offered coffee and set it on the counter. “How’re they doing? I mean, since he got here?”
Meg turned her back to the table, even though they were far enough away that the people sitting there couldn’t hear her. Normally so bubbly and fun, her face was serious. “Lisa says he tested clean and that he’s agreed to be tested whenever she wants as part of his agreement to live with her. It’s a wonder he didn’t pick up his mother’s drug habit, so that’s a good thing.” She sighed. “I guess Lisa’s sister’s going to be in jail for a long time. You wouldn’t believe the state of the apartment Sage was in. No food in the place, filthy, with just mattresses on the floor. Cops said she’d sold everything she had to buy drugs. When there was nothing left to sell, then she resorted to robbery.”
Amanda glanced at the surly teenager, armed crossed against his chest again, listening to Mrs. Granger talk. Even though she hadn’t had the easiest childhood and the only relatives she knew had passed away, Amanda had never had to deal with circumstances like the dark-haired boy in the hooded sweatshirt. It was true that Amanda’s mother had been tired from overwork and lack of love, but she’d always made sure her daughter had the necessities, and when things were tight there had been a feeling that the two of them together could get through anything.
How would having a mother who was an addict affect someone? How would the uncertainty of not knowing if the electricity would be cut off or whether there’d be any food in the fridge make a person develop emotionally? It was a tough and sad existence, and Lisa had told Meg and Amanda how guilty she felt. She hadn’t been close with her sister for years and had no idea that her life had spiraled out of control.
“Did I tell you about the guy I met, Andrew?” Meg’s comment interrupted Amanda’s thoughts, but she did her best to turn her full attention toward her friend. “He plays drums in a band called Screaming Sucker Punch Blue.” She sighed happily, her eyes soft. “He’s a musical genius with a snare drum.”
Amanda tried to suppress a smile. “Sounds amazing.”
Sweet and blonde, Meg always seemed to be jumping from boyfriend to boyfriend in her quest for true love, and Amanda actually enjoyed hearing about her new romances and online dating. Maybe she was living vicariously, as her own love life consisted of occasional dates and a bit of thrilling kissing with the local detective, James Landon. He was handsome and attentive, but he always seemed busy with his job and she didn’t see him as much as she’d like. Maybe it was wrong to fault him for his devotion to the town and protecting its citizens, but sometimes she just wished they could have more time together. There was a definite attraction between them, but he’d never mentioned dating exclusively and for some reason the thought of bringing it up made Amanda nervous, as if she was pushing him.
Now that things seemed to have calmed down a bit in town, maybe they’d get a chance to know each other better.
Meg put several scones in a basket and headed toward the table, Amanda trailing behind. Sage was slouched in his chair while Mrs. Granger talked to Lisa. When Amanda caught what her elderly friend was saying, she was surprised.
“I think he should get a job. Every young person should know how to work.” She turned to Sage. “You ever had a paycheck before, honey?”
Sage shook his head and Mrs. Granger continued. “Well, seventeen is definitely old enough to learn how to work and to get your own car.” Lisa opened her mouth in protest but Mrs. Granger cut her off with a question. “What was your first job, Lisa?”
Meg and Amanda sat down and started to pass out the fragrant pastries and small plates while Lisa answered. “I picked cherries on my grandfather’s farm when I was younger, and after that I worked in a movie theater for a couple of years, just after school and on weekends.” Her face relaxed into a smile of remembrance. “Free movies and all the popcorn I could eat. I loved that job.”
Mrs. Granger nodded and turned to Amanda. “What about you?”
She hadn’t thought about that part of her life for a long time. “Stock girl at the grocery store. I got up early and rode my bike there so I could stock the shelves before people came in.”
Mrs. Granger settled back in her walker, obviously happy to talk about her own past. “I was a screamer.”
Sage looked confused. “A what?”
“I was a screamer. I wanted a job at the local coffeeshop so I could serve doughnuts and Maxwell House coffee but I was too young. The restaurant was right next to an amusement park. When I found out I didn’t get the job I decided to take a ride on the roller coaster. It was so scary I screamed my fool head off and the park owner loved it.” Mrs. Granger was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Said that when people heard me screaming they wanted to ride, too, and that means more ticket sales so he hired me to ride the scary rides as much as I wanted
.” She paused, looking around at her rap audience. “I’d scream and people would come see what was going on. Doesn’t sound fancy enough for a resume, but I’m probably the only person you’ll ever meet who got paid for screaming her lungs out.”
Apparently, Meg had heard the story before. “So, did you hear about all the money people found down on the beach? I wanted to go down there, too, but Tory said she needed me to work today, so here I am.”
Sage perked up. “Money down on the beach? What money?”
“Police chief’s daughter found four one hundred dollar bills down there. Last I heard no one else had found anything,” Amanda answered, trying to quell any rumors.
“Well, pooh,” Meg said, disappointed. “Where do you think the money came from in the first place?”
Lisa, always the analytical reporter, had some ideas. “Someone could’ve dropped their wallet out at sea and the tide brought it in, or maybe someone opened their purse and it blew out and down the beach. We’ll probably never know.”
Sage was definitely interested, his arms uncrossed and his face eager. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Let’s go to the beach! I could use some cash.”
His aunt shot him a dark look. “Later,” she said, and he slumped back in his chair, his face sour.
Amanda was surprised. “I thought you’d be rushing down there to get the scoop on what’s going on,” she told Lisa.
Darting a quick sideways glance at her nephew, Lisa said, “Today I’m off duty. I’ll call George and put something together later.” She picked up her coffee and took a sip, ignoring her friend’s surprise.
“Well, that makes perfect sense to me, now that you have family here,” Meg said, smiling at Sage, but he wasn’t having any of it.
“Look, I’m only here temporarily until I can get some money together and get out on my own. I don’t need anyone to babysit me.” He turned to Lisa, who looked worried. “My aunt means well and all, but life in this crappy little town just isn’t for me.” He glanced around the table. “No offense, but this place looks like it hasn’t evolved past the 50’s. It’s like I landed in Mayberry.”
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