Mayor Roy hired Detective Beaux in response to the recent string of incidents that occurred this year. Beaux came from Louisiana and had a flashy, flamboyant way about him. I’d be telling a lie if I said he didn’t get under my skin.
He walked in wearing a bright pink dress shirt with pleated pants. As always, he wore his trademark black fedora, which he removed as he entered the room. He wasted no time as he strutted his way up to the counter.
“Afternoon Ms. Bonnie May,” he said before pausing and turning to me. “…Miss Summers.”
“The usual,” Bonnie May said as he sat beside me. He shook his head yes. “One caramel latte coming up.”
As Bonnie May walked away to prepare his latte, Detective Beaux turned to me and smiled. I’ll admit it. He wasn’t hard on the eyes, but I couldn’t get past his condescending attitude and demeanor.
“You’re just the person I wanted to see,” he said as he smirked. “I drove by the Burger She Wrote food truck looking for you this afternoon. Nice name by the way. It definitely suits you.”
“Thanks, I guess,” I said, curious to see what he wanted.
“I noticed you were closed, so I asked around. I was told by a few people I’d probably find you here.”
Was I that boring and predicable that everyone in town knew my routines? I wasn’t that pathetic, was I?
Yes, I was. Guilty as charged.
“So, what can I do you for?” I asked. “Does it have something to do with the Margaret Pettyjohn case? Do you need me to fill out any paperwork? File a report?”
Before he replied, Bonnie May returned with his latte and sat in down in front of him. “Much obliged, ma’am,” Beaux said as he took a long sip before finally acknowledging me. “Kara, we have a tight bow wrapped around the Pettyjohn case. Case is closed, no loose ends to tie up.”
“Thanks in part to Kara,” Bonnie May interjected. “Don’t forget about that.”
“I won’t argue with you there. Kara’s help, whether asked for or not, helped solve the case. In fact, that’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”
“Police Chief Sam and I had a long heart-to-heart talk about you. We both agree that we appreciate all the help you’ve provided this summer. You’ve done the town of Sunny Shores proud, no doubt about it. Even taking into account you were meddling in official police business.”
“So, what’s the problem?” I asked. So far everything he spouted out sounded complimentary, even if said in a back-handed way.
“The problem, is we’re both worried for your safety, Miss Summers. You’ve put yourself in a life-threatening situation each time. I can’t have a citizen who thinks they’re a sleuth getting killed on my watch.”
“So you’re telling me to butt out and stay in the kitchen?”
“Well, they do say a women’s place is in the kit—” he replied before stopping mid-sentence. I was sure the look both Bonnie May and I gave him as we squinted our eyes at him caused him to pause.
He continued, “What I’m trying to say is I know your personality type. I can see the wheels turning inside your head now, as I speak. Both Sam and I realize neither one of us can extinguish the fire and desire that burns within you. It’s almost pointless to try.”
“Geeze, you’re wordy,” Bonnie May replied. “Get to the point.”
“They say if you can’t beat them, join them,” he said with a grin. “Except we want you to join us, at least in an honorary junior detective kind of way. I mean, at least Sam thinks so. I’ll be honest, I have my doubts.”
He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a plain vanilla folder. My heart stopped as a thousand thoughts and ideas raced through my mind. What major case did they need help solving? The possibilities were endless.
He reached out to hand me the folder, but suddenly jerked it back. “Now this is only on a volunteer basis, so you don’t have to accept. I need you to realize it’s not a paid or official position with the Sunny Shores Police Department.”
My mind was made up. I didn’t need to take a second to decide. The only activity I enjoyed as much as baking was solving mysteries. The bookshelves in my room were stacked with Nancy Drew, Encyclopedia Brown, Sherlock Holmes, and other assorted mystery books. To say I was obsessed would have been an understatement.
“I accept,” I said as I reached out and grabbed the file out of Beaux’s hands. “What’s the case? A homicide? Murder of passion? Bank heist?”
He laughed. “Slow down, Nancy Drew. Baby steps first.”
I opened the case file and looked at the first document inside. The document was a photo of a wooden box. I stared momentarily at the photo, confused as to exactly what I looked at.
“Someone’s stolen money from the collection box located on the Grove Park Pier,” Detective Beaux explained as he took another sip.
“That’s it,” I replied. I felt disappointed, like a kid without presents on Christmas. “You want me to find out who’s stealing from the charity collection box?”
The box in question was located at the front of the Grove Park Pier. The local Shriner area chapter placed it there, after getting approval from the Sunny Shores City Council. The Shriners donated the money raised to the local children’s hospital.
“Is this just something you and Sam concocted to keep me busy and out of your hair?”
“Yes, and yes,” Beaux replied. “This case may seem insignificant compared to what you’ve previously involved yourself in, but it’s still important. Solve this and who knows…maybe we’ll give you something a little more serious next time.”
I pondered the proposition for a brief second and decided. I smiled as I closed the folder and placed it on the counter in front of me.
“I accept,” I said as I reached out my hand to shake his. He nodded his head and shook my hand in agreement.
“It’s been lovely, ladies,” Beaux said as he stood up. He pulled a ten dollar bill out and slapped it on the counter. “Keep the change.”
“He may be an a-hole, but he’s a great tipper,” Bonnie May said as she cleaned up his mess. “That makes him okay in my book.”
After Beaux left, Bonnie May brought the coffee pot over to refresh my cup. I sat in silence for a moment while I contemplated the case.
“What kind of person would steal money donated for sick children?” I asked as I flipped through the contents of the file. “That’s pretty low.”
Besides the photo of the empty collection box, only two other documents remained. Both documents were witness statements given by two names I failed to recognize. I figured both witnesses were tourists from out of town.
I looked over and read through both witness statements. Neither one of them claimed to see who took the money. Instead, each one of them witnessed a man acting strange and hanging around the box looking suspicious.
“Any leads in your big case?” Bonnie May asked sarcastically.
“As a matter of fact, there is,” I explained. “Both witnesses observed a man acting suspicious around the donation box. Each report described the man as having a dark complexion and wearing a worn-out white Tommy Bahama shirt and jean shorts.”
“You know exactly who that sounds like?” Bonnie May said.
Unfortunately, my mind traveled to the same conclusion she had.
“Sounds like ol’ Willie Wylan,” Bonnie May replied. “I knew that crazy old coot was up to no good.”
Willie Wylan was an older Jamaican man who drew caricatures for tourists on the Grove Park Pier. Although he looked unkempt and dressed like a homeless person, he always treated me with kindness and respect.
“Bonnie May, I have a hard time believing Willie would do such a thing. I’ve talked to him on many occasions and he’s a kind, gentle soul. It doesn’t add up in my book.”
“If you don’t think it adds up, maybe you need to re-take math,” Bonnie May replied, sarcastically. “He dresses like a bum and looks like he needs a shower each time I’ve seen him. He probably needed the money.”
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“I figured he did pretty well for himself drawing the caricatures. Each time I stroll by the Grove Park Pier, he’s drawing for someone.”
“Dear, this is business, whether it’s operating your food truck or trying to play detective. So, you have to treat it as such and leave your personal feelings at the door.”
On one hand, Bonnie May provided a valid argument against Willie. Even if I felt strongly that he wasn’t capable of doing it, he remained a prime suspect. I couldn’t overlook the evidence provided in the case file.
On the other hand, I disagreed with her about taking a personal approach. I wanted to leave my mark on whatever I did. Part of that meant taking a personal approach, if it didn’t get in the way of doing what was right.
“Well, dear, I’m going to clean up and close up. Do you need anything else?” Bonnie May asked.
“I’m good, thanks for the coffee…and conversation,” I said as I stood up. “Good luck at the fundraiser tonight. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet Mr. Right.”
Bonnie May smiled. “I’d settle for meeting Mr. Right Now.”
I left the Breezy Bean Café and began to walk home. Before I took two steps, my cell phone notification alert went off again. I received another text from my mother.
Kara, where are you? I told you we need to talk. Call me back!
I knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. No more delays. The time to face the music was now.
Chapter 3
Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at my front door. Actually, it was my mom’s front door. After dropping out of school and purchasing a food truck, my funds were low. Moving back in with my mom was the only option I had.
Besides saving money, I figured that my moving in kept my mother from being alone. On the outside, she appeared fine after the death of my father. I knew deep inside she still hurt. Hopefully, my being around provided a nice distraction.
As I pulled my house key from my purse, I hesitated for a brief second. After taking a deep breath, I pushed my key inside the lock and slowly opened the door. My room was upstairs, so if I could make it to the steps without being caught, I’d be in the clear.
No such luck.
“There you are,” my mother said. She waited on the couch with a book in her hand. She closed the book and sat it on the table as she stood up. She walked over and gave me a hug. “I was getting worried.”
“I missed you too, Mom,” I said as I hugged her back.
My mother had returned from a writer’s conference in Orlando. She mainly wrote mystery and thriller novels. A few of her books hit the New York Times and USA Today best sellers lists. The conference invited her to speak after another author canceled last minute.
“It’s good to be home,” she said as she let go of me. “But we need to have a talk about something serious. You already know what I’m going to say don’t you?”
I did, but I played dumb anyway.
“I know the kitchen’s a bit of a mess, but I needed to prepare a few pies last minute. Bonnie May started selling them at the Breezy Bean Café.”
She rolled her eyes and said, “You know good and well that’s not it.”
“What’s the problem?”
“That’s the problem,” she said as she pointed to the top of the refrigerator.
Perched on the top of our fridge was Mr. Whiskers.
Mr. Whiskers was Star’s unofficial adopted pet cat. He hung around Grove Park and the Burger She Wrote food truck especially. Star kept him fed and cared for, even though he was a stray. Everything was fine until Mr. Whiskers found himself caught in a messy situation.
A local’s prized cocker spaniel chased Mr. Whiskers into my food truck. Unfortunately for us, the food inspector showed up and caught us at the worst possible time. She temporary shut down my business, while the owner of the cocker spaniel called animal control.
Star rescued Mr. Whiskers from the park but couldn’t take him home. With her parents being allergic to cats, she found herself out of options. Well, almost out. There was one sucker left…me.
“Can you explain why there’s a cat in my kitchen?” my mom asked, not looking amused in the slightest. “I’m not trying to raise a stink about it, Kara. But you know how I feel about cats.”
“It’s only temporary, Mom. Star continues to look for a home for Mr. Whiskers.”
“Mr. Whiskers?” she asked. “That’s its name?”
“Star named him,” I replied as I wanted no credit for the name.
“That makes sense,” she said as her mood began to lighten. “I had no idea it was Star’s cat.”
As I explained the entire story to my mom, Mr. Whiskers remained in his spot. He appeared unfazed by either one of us. He continued to lick his paws and not pay us a lick of attention.
“I’ll allow him to stay for two weeks, and that’s it. Two weeks is plenty of time to find him a home,” she said. “You have to take care of him though. Food, litterbox, hairball cleanup…that’s all you.”
For a brief second, I felt as if I were back in middle school. It sounded just like the time I begged for a pet goldfish.
“Anyway, I need to get ready for the fundraiser tonight,” she said as she opened the oven. “I have leftover meatloaf if you’re hungry.”
That explained why my mother was decked out in a black fancy dress.
“Wait just a minute,” I replied. “You received an invite for tonight. How’d you pull that off? Isn’t the event only for the rich and snooty?”
“Someone has to cover the event, so the non-rich and non-snooty can read jealously about it,” she said as she grinned.
Besides being a best-selling murder and thriller author, my mother freelanced for the local paper, the Sunny Shores Times. She wrote articles and features for them a few times a month. The gig with the paper provided a nice supplemental income between book releases.
“Mr. Stevens covers these types of events normally, but he’s under the weather. The editor called me this morning and asked if I’d fill in.”
“I’m jealous,” I replied. “Seems like it’ll be a good time.”
“Don’t be,” she said as she put her earrings on. “This is work. I won’t be partaking in any of the activities, just observing.”
After my mother left, I went upstairs to kill time in my room. Star wasn’t arriving for another hour, so I needed to keep myself busy.
I placed the case file given to me by Detective Beaux on my desk. My desk was already covered with various documents, notes, and evidence. These were from the case file for my father’s death. Sam Martin, the Sunny Shores Chief of Police, gave me the file, after I helped solve the John Harmon murder.
The case of my father’s murder remained unsolved. After hitting dead end after dead end, Police Chief Sam was instructed to close the case. The Mayor sent out a decree to close all unsolved cases, to focus the Sunny Shores Police Department on current matters. The Mayor called it a cost saving initiative due to budget restraints.
Obviously, this didn’t set well with me or Sam. Sam was my father’s partner and best friend, but his hands were tied. The only way to re-open the case depended on discovering new evidence. So I spent my free time researching his case.
I sat down and opened the case file for the stolen donation money. I shook my head at first as I felt the case seemed insignificant. However, the more I thought about it, the more annoyed I became.
“What kind of monster steals from sick kids?” I thought to myself. “This person needs to be put away.”
As much as I liked Willie Wylan, I knew what had to be done. I decided to pay him a visit the next day. It wouldn’t hurt to ask a few questions, right?
Chapter 4
Star honked her horn as she pulled into my driveway. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door. As I walked down the driveway, Star stepped out of her car and pointed at my outfit.
“You seriously wore all black?” Star asked as she began to laugh. “You know I was kidding, right? You look like yo
u’re going to a funeral.”
Although I amused Star by wearing all black, I took this matter seriously. If Ty caught Star and me spying, I’d be attending my own funeral as I’d die of embarrassment.
Plus, I thought I looked good in black. It hid those few extra pounds I gained stress eating. Don’t judge.
So, I sat down in the car and buckled up. Star put the car in reverse and backed out of my driveway. As we drove off, Star looked at me and smiled.
“You know, if you put on white face paint, you’d make the perfect mime.”
We arrived downtown and turned on Driftwood Lane. We passed the restaurant, but all the parking spaces were full. Star circled the block until a space opened in front of the restaurant.
The Wharf served upscale clients fancy seafood dishes. I laughed when I thought about how much people spent eating there. The same snapper fresh caught in our coastal waters cost ten dollars at the local hole-in-the wall seafood restaurant. The same dish at the Wharf cost four times as much.
“If the Wharf is the type of place you took someone to impress them, what’s Ty’s intention? Are these two getting serious?” I asked myself as I felt a pain in the pit of my stomach.
“Let’s do this quick,” Star said as she put the car in park. “My Beetle sticks out like a sore thumb.”
From the street, a large window provided a view inside the restaurant’s dining area. The restaurant contained one large dining room, dimly lit by candlelight.
I opened my purse and took out a new pair of binoculars. Star looked at me in amusement as I struggled to take the wrapping off.
“Did you buy those binoculars just for this?” Star asked.
“Don’t judge.”
I rolled my window down and looked through the binoculars. At first, my vision blurred. After my eyes refocused, I looked around until I spotted Ty.
“Are you kidding me?”
“What is it? Did you find them?”
“I did, but she’s facing the other side of the restaurant. I can only see the back of her head.”
Blueberry Pie White Lie - a Cozy Mystery: Sunny Shores Mysteries Book 3 Page 2