“I’m not sure if you heard or not, but the video footage from my camera showed someone else around your truck that morning.”
Chris began to nervously fiddle with the clipboard he held in his hand. “I did hear something to that effect. What are you trying to accomplish?”
“I believe the person on camera murdered your step-father. The identity of that person is still in the air. Do you have any theories on who it might be? Did anyone else in town have issues with John?”
“You’re better off compiling a list of people who didn’t have issues with him. That’s a shorter list.”
“So no one in particular stands out?”
“Look Kara, I would love to talk more, but I’m extremely busy at the moment. We’re down a server. Not to mention, the health inspector is dining at table twelve,” he explained as he pointed to the same woman in the red hat from earlier. The same woman I bumped into.
“That’s Ms. Pettyjohn?” I asked as I put two and two together. “I hardly recognized her.”
“That’s her all right,” he said as he smiled. “The same Margaret Pettyjohn whose house you rolled in the 12th grade.”
“In my defense, I was only tagging along with Dustin and a few of his friends. It wasn’t my idea,” I responded.
“Maybe so, but you’re the only one she identified,” he added. “She caught you red-handed.”
He wasn’t lying. Out of the five of us, Ms. Pettyjohn spotted me as the others ran further ahead. She called my parents before I stepped one foot into my driveway. They grounded me for two weeks.
Ms. Pettyjohn held a grudge against me that lasted throughout high school. I apologized and even mowed her yard that summer. Nothing I did made a difference, and judging by her stare when I bumped into her that evening, she held that grudge to this day.
“I learned a valuable lesson that day.”
“Don’t roll the house of the grumpiest old lady in town?”
“Not exactly,” I said as I grinned. “Don’t go rolling someone’s house with a group of track team members, especially when you’re as slow as me.”
When I returned to the table, Will asked, “Who were you talking to?”
I took a sip of wine and responded. “Chris Kelly. You know, John Harmon’s step-son.”
“I thought he looked familiar. How’s he doing?”
“Surprisingly, he seemed well. Although, he and his step-father didn’t get along.”
“Do you think he did it? Do you think he killed John Harmon?”
I thought for a second before responding. I didn’t want to seem too eager to talk about the murder. Although, my curiosity got the best of me.
“I don’t think he did it. In fact, I have another theory.”
Before I could finish, the waitress delivered our entrees. The aroma of the food sidetracked my mind. “Let’s talk about something else. Where are you from?”
Will smiled. “I grew up around Marathon, Florida.”
“Any siblings?” I asked.
“Nope. I’m an only child.”
I continued to ask question after question. My lack of dating experience was turning our date into more of an interview than a date. Luckily for me, Will was a good sport.
“Am I under trial?”
“No, of course not,” I responded as I felt embarrassed. “I guess I get it, honestly, from my father.”
“I’ve heard you’ve been quite the little sleuth around town. I guess you aren’t used to being the one interrogated.”
The conversation continued as the night went on. However, it became two sided instead of one. At the end of the meal, the waitress presented Will and me with a dessert menu.
“Their Key lime pie is really good. Want to share a slice?”
Will shook his head in disagreement. “None for me. I’ll have to pass.”
“Seriously? Are you allergic to limes?
“No. I just don’t like the taste.”
Since Key lime pie was one of my favorite desserts, I was taken aback by his answer. How could someone who lived in Florida not like it?
“I don’t know if I can trust a fellow Floridian that doesn’t like Key lime pie.”
“Trust me. I’m as much of a Floridian as anyone.” He laughed. “I was born and raised in Marathon, Florida. Being so close to Key West, I ate enough Key lime pie to last two lifetimes.”
“So what’s the problem?” I asked. “Trying to keep your girlish figure?”
“The summer after my high school graduation, I lost both my parents in a car accident.”
“Oh no,” I said as my heart sank. “Will. I’m so sorry. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
I placed my hand on top of his. Will hesitated for a moment, and then took a deep breath before responding. “It was a drunk driver that took my parents’ lives that night.”
I realized that that was the reason that Will didn’t drink, and I could certainly understand why. The pain of losing your parents to a careless drunk on the highway was enough reason to cause anyone to swear off alcohol.
He continued. “Because of one selfish idiot, I lost both my mom and dad that night. My life changed forever because one man couldn’t control his inner demons.”
“I lost my dad last year, but I can’t imagine the pain of losing both parents at such a young age. It must have been so tough for you.”
I could feel the tension tightening in the air. Will’s emotions went from sadness to anger, revealing a pent up aggression he’d kept bottled up inside for years. I could feel his pulse racing fast, as I held his hand tighter.
A feeling of guilt crept into my conscience as I glanced over at my half-full glass of Chardonnay. I was embarrassed. The only dessert I’d deserved that night was a heaping slice of humble pie.
I understood his reaction, but didn’t know how to respond. So as usual, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“So pecan pie instead?”
Will laughed out loud and said, “Pecan pie sounds wonderful.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as the look of rage was gone and his normal color returned to his face.
“It’s not all bad, though. My parents are gone, but I carry the good memories inside. From my mom’s apple pie to fishing on our boat, The Salty Mutt, with my dad, the memories live on.”
Will opened the door for me as we walked out of the restaurant.
“Where are you parked?” Will asked. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“That’s sweet, but I didn’t drive.”
“You walked here?”
“I only live a mile from downtown.”
“I can respect that,” he said as he looked at me like he was impressed. “I’m sure it’s a good way to stay health conscious and in shape.”
“It is,” I responded. “Plus, I don’t own a car. So there’s that too.”
Will smiled. “Can I walk you home instead?”
“That’s sweet, but you don’t have to do that.”
“I must insist. This town has not been the safest place for the past few weeks. I couldn’t let a beautiful woman such as yourself walk home alone at this time of night,” Will said, then quickly backtracked. “I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself. It’s such a nice night out, and the pleasure would be all mine.”
It was a lovely offer. There was no way I could say no after that. It had been a long time since a man had said I was beautiful. My ex would say it at times, but it almost felt forced.
“This is it,” I said as we approached my home.
“I pass by here sometimes when I’m out running. It’s a beautiful house.”
“Thanks, it’s my mother’s house. I’m staying with her right now to save money.”
“She’s not going to come out and scold me for having you out past your curfew, is she?”
“Probably, but you’re lucky she’s out of town right now.”
“I had a great time. We should do it again soon,” he said as he pulled closer. �
�Good night.”
As he leaned in, I closed my eyes. In my adult life, I’d only kissed one man. Because of this, I gained most of my romantic knowledge and expertise from Lifetime movies. I knew exactly what was coming next
Wrong.
To my surprise, his head moved in the opposite direction of mine. It dawned on me that he was going in for a hug and not a kiss. Luckily for me, I un-puckered my lips before he noticed.
“I’ll call you,” he said as he turned away.
As he walked down my front steps, I stood dazed and confused. I kept telling myself it wasn’t a date, but to say I wasn’t disappointed was a lie.
16
“I need details,” Star said as she entered the food truck the next morning. She didn’t take one step in before she was asking about my date from the night before. I would have at least worked my way up to asking the question, but Star was not one for small talk.
“Details about what?” I asked, pretending to play dumb. “Today’s specials?”
“Don’t make me grab the rolling pin from over there,” Star replied. “You know what I’m talking about. How did last night go?”
I couldn’t tell by her tone if she was kidding or being serious.
“What happened last night?” Ty asked as he appeared through the door with perfect timing as usual.
“Kara’s hot date with Will.”
“Oh, that guy,” Ty responded. Ty lacked the enthusiasm and interest that Star was showing. He walked to the other side of the truck and started unpacking the supplies he brought in, pretending to butt out.
“If you must know… I said hesitantly. “It was a nice evening. We had a nice dinner with great conversation.”
“And then…?”
“The weather was perfect last night, so he offered to walk me home. We had a lovely stroll and then said our goodbyes.”
“And then…?”
“He gave me a hug and we said goodnight.”
“A hug?” Star shouted as her voice raised an octave higher.
I didn’t understand what the big deal was. A hug was a sweet gesture, or so I thought. What was she expecting?
Judging by the snicker echoing from the back of the truck, Ty found our conversation amusing. Both Star and I stared back at Ty with a not-so-amused look in return. He cleared his throat and straightened up.
“Uh… we’re getting low on sugar,” Ty replied, trying to save face. “I think I’ll run down to the Piggly Wiggly and grab a few bags.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Ty,” Star responded. As Ty walked out the door, she continued, “Now where were we?”
“I’ll prove it,” I said as picked my cell phone up off the counter. “I’ll send him a text and tell him how I enjoyed last night.”
Before I could swipe one finger on my phone, Star grabbed it out of my hands and threw it on the grass outside the main window.
“Again?” I screamed.
“Sorry, it’s a force of habit.” Star smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I did it for your own good, Kara. Don’t you know anything about rules of dating nowadays?”
“Rules?” I asked. I was clueless.
I was destined to end up Sunny Shore’s resident single crazy cat lady. Dating as an adult was a foreign concept for me. More accurately put, I was an idiot when it came to dating. And now to top that off, there were additional rules I’d have to learn? At this point, I should probably start collecting cats now for my inevitable future.
“First of all, do not contact him first. Let the guy make the first move. The stench of clinginess and desperation is a surefire way to run any decent guy off permanently.”
“So I need to stay cool and act uninterested?”
“Are you trying to be single for the rest of your life?”
“You need to find the middle ground. Try to find the perfect balance between the two. If you do, it drives the guy crazy, but in a good way.”
My text alert tone went off in the distance, so I went out of the truck to retrieve it.
“Are you happy now?” I said as I put the phone up to her face. “He sent the first text.”
Hi Kara. Had a great time last night, hopefully we can do it again soon. I’m trying to hunt down Tom, so I won’t be at the park today. TTYL
“Don’t make me slap the phone out of your hand again.”
“So there’s a rule about when I can respond?”
“You’re learning,” she said as she sarcastically slow clapped. “You never respond right away to a text. If you do, it gives the appearance that you are desperately waiting by the phone for them to respond.”
“But I am.”
“Maybe so, but you don’t want them to know that.”
“So when can I respond?”
“You double your response time based on his,” she explained. “For example, if it takes him two hours to respond to you, you respond back in four.”
“Any more advice you’d like to share?” I asked Star.
She smiled. “You might want to invest in a phone case.”
“Code 157,” I mumbled under my breath as I grabbed a printout sitting next to the scanner. I’d printed out a list of police codes that I’d found online. I quickly scanned through them until I hit number 157.
“That’s a murder.”
“A murder at the Cozy Cove Inn? I’m not surprised to hear that,” Star responded. “That place is sketchy and sleazy to begin with.”
“Another murder in Sunny Shores? That makes two in one week. What if they’re connected?” I replied. “We need to go check it out.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, it might be connected to the Harmon case.”
“Am I still on the clock if I go?” Star asked.
“Yes.”
Driving up to the Cozy Cove Inn was like taking a trip back in time. The Cozy Cove Inn was a road side motel that was built in the 1960’s. It was located ten miles north of Sunny Shores on State Highway 41. The inn was close to being at the half-way point between Parrot Bay and Sunny Shores.
The Cozy Cove Inn was your typical road-side motor inn. There was nothing fancy about it. The only amenities on the ground were a dirty ice machine, a vending machine that I was sure served snacks that had been discontinued for years, and a pool that was an unusual shade of green.
The motel itself consisted of a long, rectangular-shaped building with a main office attached to the front. The building was one floor with twenty-five units. The door to each room faced the parking lot that was directly in front.
Motels like the Cozy Cove Inn were popular in the mid-twentieth century. This was when the automobile craze took off. This was the first time that a majority of Americans could afford to own a car. With the ability to now drive themselves anywhere, people were able to travel longer distances for trips and vacations.
Florida, with its year-round warm weather and beaches, was a popular destination for many. During that time, thousands of these road-side motels popped up. With its proximity to Orlando, the Cozy Cove Inn was one of the more popular motels in northern Florida.
As with many things, people’s tastes changed over the years. When developers began to build nicer hotels and resorts, the popularity of these road-side motels declined. By the 2000’s, the majority of these motels had closed down for good.
Even though the Cozy Cove Inn had survived, it remained a shell of its former self. Instead of being booked by families traveling on vacation, it was mainly used for unethical local rendezvous. One could only imagine the number of divorces and illegitimate children that were produced between those paper-thin walls.
“To be honest, I’m not surprised at all,” Star said as she wove through traffic while driving us in her bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle.
“Surprised about what?” I asked as I reached down to ensure my seat belt was buckled tightly.
“There being a murder at the Cozy Cove Inn. To be honest, the place was probably due for one. It looks like something ou
t of a horror movie.”
“You have a point. I wouldn’t be caught dead staying there, myself.”
“Too bad Missy Harmon can’t say the same thing,” Star replied.
I turned immediately towards my window, trying to keep from chuckling. Star had a quick yet dry wit to her that could be hilarious, although her timing was not always so impeccable.
“Too soon?
When we pulled into the parking lot of the Cozy Cove Inn, the place was relatively deserted. The first thing I noticed was the blue lights of a Sunny Shores police cruiser reflecting off the palm trees that were lined up in front of the inn. Beside the police car, Missy Harmon’s bright white Mercedes Benz was parked in front of a room with police caution tape strung up around the door.
The stench of cigarette smoke and regret filled the air as we got out of the car and walked to the door. Deputy Mark Johnson and the inn’s owner, Sonny Pines, were standing outside the motel room door. Both were waiting for the paramedics and Chief Martin to arrive. Deputy Johnson was new to the force, and didn’t recognize Star and I as we approached the motel room.
“Ladies, please stand back. You’re approaching a murder investigation scene,” Deputy Johnson said, raising his hand in the air like a traffic cop.
Deputy Johnson was closely guarding the motel room door, so I couldn’t get a good look inside. Each time I tried to shift my head around the deputy to get a look, he would quickly adjust his body to attempt to block my wandering eyes.
“Oh my goodness gracious,” Star said in a voice that I had never heard spew from her lips. “What in the world happened there, officer?”
Star sounded like a helpless, Southern debutante. It was if she’d summoned the ghost of Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind. My first impression was that she sounded ridiculous, but Deputy Johnson ate it up.
“Well ma’am,” Deputy Johnson began to speak as he took off his hat like a proper Southern gentleman. “There’s been an accident. The lady inside is dead.”
“Accident?” Sonny Pines blurted out. “It was no accident. That pretty lady killed herself and left that note that you have in your hands.”
Key Lime Crime: Sunny Shores Mysteries Book 1 Page 8