by Rita Garcia
Zack reversed directions, slowing his stride for an easy cool down. Jezzica followed his lead and stopped when she reached her cottage. “Nice run.” Zack smiled at her.
“It was fun. I enjoyed it.” Her expression said her words had surprised her more than him. “See you around.” She jogged up the steps, and with a half-turn, she tossed him a wave before disappearing inside.
Zack continued to his own cottage, two doors down. He showered and arrived at the office well before his scheduled time. Because of the nature of his job, he didn’t hold to prearranged hours. Still, when circumstance allowed, he liked to be in the office early and today he anticipated having the results of the lab work from the flower shop. He’d sat at his desk and barely taken a swallow from his mug when Ted came in.
“The reports are in from Serenity Blooms. Clean—not a print that couldn’t be confirmed with the list Gina gave us.” Ted tossed a file across the desk.
“Anyone on the list from out of the area?” Zack shuffled through the reports in the folder.
“Not according to Gina or Pete. And I didn’t spot any names I found suspicious.”
“Thanks, Ted.” His voice held a tone that said he was dismissing him, even though Zack wasn’t his superior.
“No problem.” Ted called over his shoulder.
Zack rushed across the hall and knocked on the door of Logan’s office, then plopped into the chair in front of Logan’s desk. “The investigative team came up empty-handed on the flower shop. We need to hold another meeting with the business owners.”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “What can you tell them that’s different from before? Do you have a new plan of action?”
Zack set an ankle on the opposite knee. “Reinforce the information we gave them at the last meeting. And discuss new customers—people that are unfamiliar to them. Criminals, especially inexperienced ones, usually inadvertently leave clues of some kind.”
Logan clicked on his calendar, and gave Zack a choice of evenings that worked for him. “Get with Hank and he’ll create the flyers. Good job, and I like the idea of a follow-up meeting—lets them know we’re taking action.”
Zack stood to leave. “I’ll be at the bookshop this afternoon. Your gorgeous wife thinks Jezzica could use my muscles.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Then, by all means, offer your services.” Logan laughed as though he was in on his wife’s ulterior motives.
“There’s a distinct possibility I’ll get booted out of her shop.” Zack heard Logan’s hearty laugh as he settled back into his own office. Samantha is definitely doing a little matchmaking. Zack smiled as he moved the mouse bringing his computer screen to life.
Chapter Six
“What’s on the agenda today?” Catylen kicked back at the table where her sister sat working, and blew across the steamy liquid before taking a sip.
“A list of supplies for the shop.” She pushed the paper with one torn edge to her sister.
Catylen studied the list. “You pick up the boxes and start on the books, I’ll grab the supplies and meet you at the shop.” As she shoved the list into the pocket of her jeans, sadness settled on her face and reflected in her eyes.
Where had Catylen’s thoughts taken her? Jezzica didn’t push. Her sister would talk about it when she was ready. “Sounds like a plan.” She searched her bag and found her keys. “See you in a while. There’s cereal in the pantry.”
Jezzica followed the bend in the road onto Main Street. The shops were various hues of pink, yellow, blue, white, and creams—like the cottages, the weathered colors blended and gave the town character. A few of the shops had upstairs apartments, which the owner either lived in or rented out. She continued around back and parked in the alleyway behind Magnolia’s Antiques.
Maggie stepped out the back door of her shop and waved, her bangles slipping toward her elbow. A long gauzy skirt gently brushed her ankles as it moved in the soft morning breeze. She possessed a gracefulness that many would admire and others envy. “Here to pick up the boxes?” Maggie’s voice carried a lyrical tone that caused others to feel comfortable.
Jezzica shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim shorts and followed Maggie. “I appreciate your help.”
“It’s how we do things here in Serenity. Anything you need, you let me know. If I don’t have it—I’ll find it for you.” Maggie’s warm smile sent the message she meant what she said. “Have time for a cuppa? I have fresh scones from the coffee shop.”
“British teatime and antiques—it works.” She closed the trunk of her car, now filled with boxes. “Rain check on the cuppa?” Her smile matched the easiness of Maggie’s.
“Anytime.” Maggie waved as Jezzica inched her car two shops down, ending up at the back door of the Sea Glass Bookshop.
She twisted the key into the lock, and opened more than the door. Excited and overwhelmed—her plans were closing in on fruition. She’d never managed a business. What made her think she could run one now? What if she failed? “None of that.” She fussed at herself.
She attacked the books saturated with dust and soot and began throwing them into the boxes. The shop door opened. “That was quick.”
“Good. Samantha told you I agreed to help.” At the sound of that deep, riveting male voice, her heart added an extra beat.
Zack strutted as though they’d had a prearranged time for him to drop by. “I was expecting my sister.”
“Sorry, I should’ve knocked.” He moved into the interior of the shop. “Samantha said you needed some muscle.”
“I’m good. But thanks. My sister is helping, and between the two of us, we have it all in hand.” She held her breath a moment, trying to still the fluttering as her pulse rate increased.
He leaned against a bookshelf and folded his muscular arms. He does more in the way of fitness than running. “I get the idea you’re not particularly fond of detectives—or is it me you’re not thrilled about?” One eyebrow shot up as he waited for her answer.
Glad he can’t read my thoughts. “I don’t have a problem with you. To be honest, I do have a lack of respect for your profession.” She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat.
“You want to know why?” The story held a longing to spill forth. “That night, the night my husband was killed. We’d driven from our home, in April Springs, to attend a fundraiser for the new children’s wing at St. Marks, in Stone Valley.”
Jezzica kept going, no longer aware of Zack’s presence. She was barely aware of her sister standing near the door. “I danced in his arms, knowing the night would continue once we got home. We’d said our goodbyes to the other guests and drove a few blocks, holding hands across the center armrest. The rain pounded on the windshield faster than the wipers could brush it away. Geoff applied the brakes to stop at a red light. A sudden explosion shattered the back window of the car. A man held a gun to Geoff’s head through the glass of the driver’s window. Geoff opened the door, knocking the man off balance. Another man appeared on my side of the car, but when he saw Geoff had the other man on the ground, he rushed to Geoff’s side.” Jezzica struggled to hold back the tears.
Zack started to comment, but she continued on. “I ran. Thankfully, I spotted James and Cindy two cars behind us, friends of ours who had also attended the fundraiser. I dashed into their back seat, dripping wet.
“Cindy punched numbers on her cell phone and said she was calling the police. James took advantage of an opening and swung the car around to head in the opposite direction. I plastered my face to the back window of the car and through sheets of rain, I saw Geoff clutch his chest and fall to the ground.” She struggled to hold back tears and finish her story. “The man pointed his gun and shot again, and then kicked him over and over. I have no idea what happened after that. James drove around until the police called back and asked us to meet them at the police station.” She accepted the handkerchief Zack offered and paused a long moment. “I gave the detectives detailed descriptions of the men. You kn
ow what they’ve found? Zilch.”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t get much more tragic than that—explains your dislike of the system, along with the people in it.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Blurting out the story like that. It’s not something I normally do.”
Catylen rushed to her sister’s side and pushed Jezzica’s hair off her face. “It’s okay, Jezz. I’ll take you home.”
Jezzica wiped her eyes. “No. I’m fine. Maybe a cold drink, if you don’t mind.” Catylen slipped out the front door.
“Are the detectives still actively pursuing the case?” Zack picked up the conversation as if there hadn’t been an interruption.
“I quit calling them about six months ago, and I haven’t heard a word since.” Needing to keep her hands busy, she returned to filling boxes. The only thing she’d accomplished by moving to Serenity Cove was relocating—the anguish of her past had loaded up and come along for the ride.
Zack began helping her. They worked side by side, both engrossed in their own thoughts. Finally, he broke the unspoken agreement of silence. “It’s not much. But I’m sorry the system failed you.”
“Me, too.” She swiped the back of her hand across her brow. “Samantha says there’s a place that recycles books in Mariner Bay.”
“I’ll call Nancy at the library and see if she knows where.” He pulled his phone from the clip on his belt. Pulling a card from his pocket, he jotted down notes. He thanked the person and thumbed the OFF button. “Call this—better yet, I’ll deliver them for you.”
“There’s no need for—”
“Maybe we can work out a truce.” He interrupted her and smiled into her eyes.
“You could change your profession.” She chuckled to let him know she was teasing. Maybe he should consider it.
Catylen returned, handing them each a drink. “Mission accomplished. What do you want me to do now?”
“Let’s start clearing out and discarding as much junk as possible. Tomorrow, we need to scrub walls and get ready for the painters.”
Zack came in with a small dolly for another load of boxes. “When are you planning to open?”
“I’d like to have the official grand opening mid-June. My first shipment of books arrives next week. I’ll put them in Maggie’s storeroom if the painting isn’t finished.”
The sisters made several trips to the dumpster, with stuff destroyed by smoke from the big fire the previous year. They came to the rug in the children’s center. “You think it’s salvageable?” Catylen ran her hand across the nap, her hands quickly coating with a layer of charcoal dust.
The rug held childhood memories. Jezzica bent down, examining the jungle animals under swaying palm trees that worked their way around the border of the hand-woven rug. It brought back reminders of a happier time—something she sorely needed. “I would love to keep it. Maggie might know if the smoke could be cleaned out of it. When Zack’s finished, we’ll go over and ask her. I can’t wait to introduce you to her.” Jezzica went through the shop and out the back way, where she had seen Zack take the last few boxes.
She laughed at the sight of Zack standing there, his arms filled with an orange tabby. “Where did she come from?”
“It’s a he, and he’s been sniffing and meowing around the truck each time I’ve brought a load out. He’s awfully thin.”
“I’ll take him in and put a sign in the shop window.” She took the fluffy cat and smiled as Zack finished strapping the containers onto his truck.
“That should do it.” Dust flew as he slapped his cap against his knee. “I’m taking off so I can drop these off before the place closes.” He reached over and rubbed the cat’s head. “I think your shop has a new mascot.”
“Don’t think so.” She held her breath as his soft blue eyes sent jitters through her veins. “Thanks for your help.” She hugged the furry animal closer to her. “About the way I treated you, I’m sorry. You’re not responsible for the incompetence of the whole detective organization.”
“I’d like to believe the whole system isn’t ineffectual.” He smiled and gave her a quick hug, and brushed his fingers through the cat’s fur again.
Falling prey to her impulsive nature, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks again.” Okay, that was multi-layers of dumb.
“If you need anything, you know where to find me. Two cottages down.” He slid into the cab of his truck. She watched the brake lights as he stopped before making a left out of the alleyway.
Still hugging the orange cat, Jezzica headed back to where her sister had assembled another load for the dumpster. Catylen’s eyes lit with a giggle. “Where did your new friend come from? Look at his little short tail—what’s it called?”
“A bobtail, I think. He showed up in the alley. Maybe Julia has something to feed him.” She paused before heading to the coffee shop. “Let’s call it a day and drive to the inn for an early dinner?”
“You’re on.” Catylen rolled up her sleeves. “We’ll leave one of the cars at the cottage. I need to make a stop on the way home, but I won’t be long.”
“I’ll feed Rusty and then I’ll meet you there.”
“You’ve already named him?” Catylen shook her head, laughing as she picked up a bag of trash and headed out the back door.
Jezzica fed the cat the sliced turkey that Julia had given her, and settled him inside the shop for the night. She arrived home first, and clicked on the message machine. “Jezzica, this is Sally, Jackson’s assistant. I’m probably overreacting—at least I pray I am. Jackson is missing. He left yesterday afternoon to follow up a lead on your case.” She sniffled, her voice almost inaudible. “We haven’t heard from him since—he hasn’t even called his wife. The police here advised me to call you and suggested you let the police there know what’s going on.” The machine beeped and clicked off.
Catylen came home, and Jezzica wanted to erase the voicemail without telling her sister, but she couldn’t keep it from her if there was a possibility of danger. She hit the Replay button.
Catylen listened, and then narrowed her eyes. “Do you think it has anything to do with Geoff’s killers?”
“I seriously doubt it. You ready to go?” Jezzica refused to panic. After all, what were the chances that the killers had followed her to Serenity Cove?
Chapter Seven
Zack timed his morning runs, hoping to meet up with Jezzica. Either she’d been avoiding him or the hours she ran were sporadic. Either way, he hadn’t found her on the shore running in rhythm to the morning dawn, but she had formed the habit of visiting his thoughts, as his feet slipped in and out of the sand repeatedly.
Her husband’s murder kept nagging at him. Could the detective have missed something—clues that might still bring the criminals to justice? He’d worked in small towns—nowhere near the size of Stone Valley. It seemed presumptuous to think he could succeed where others had failed. His gut told him he had to at least read the file. He slowed his pace to cool down.
Before going to his office, he made a detour to the coffee shop, thinking he’d treat the whole crew at the station to Julia’s fresh pastries. Who am I kidding? I might bump into Jezzica. He slid onto a stool.
“Don’t usually see you this early. What can I get for you?” Julia flipped his coffee mug right side up and filled it.
“A variety of whatever pastries you have, enough for the department.” He kicked back a slug of the dark liquid and waited for the robust flavor to pleasure his taste buds. “Best coffee this side of the Great Divide”
Julia’s laughter rang with pure delight. “It’s the quality of the beans and grinding them fresh for each pot.” She set a box of pastries on the counter next to him, along with the total on a handwritten receipt.
“Have you considered getting a point-of-sale system?” He pulled out his wallet.
“I sell coffee, tea hot or cold, and pastries. My little slips work fine. You’ve heard of the acronym KISS? Keep it simply
sweet—that’s my motto.”
He laughed at her variation on the ellipsis. “If it works, that’s what matters.”
“If my Harry were still here, he’d have bought one of those up-to-date systems in a hot flash. We were true opposites for forty-six years.”
“How long has he been gone?” Zack shifted on the stool.
Her eyes fill with sadness. “Almost two years—Lord, I miss that man.” She picked up the dirty mug and wiped the counter, seemly lost in her own thoughts.
“Thanks for the coffee and pastries.” And leaving the shop he silently prayed that God would give Julia peace. Maybe true love does last forever.
Only one small lamp glowed inside the bookshop. Maybe I’ll drop back by later this afternoon. It might work to straight-out invite her to join me for a morning jog, instead of playing games.
He left Main Street and made the short jaunt to the station. As he entered by the side door, he heard voices, or rather a voice being raised. He joined Hank in the coffee room.
“Mayor Thompson is here. He’s madder than mad about the crime situation.” Hank used hush tones as though divulging state secrets.
The gruff voice shouted again. “Something must be done—I won’t have my town overrun by crime because of an incompetent police force.”
They watched through the window of the coffee room as Logan placed a hand on the mayor’s shoulder and walked him to the exit. “Dwight, settle down. We’ll get to the bottom of this. We’re holding another meeting in a few days—it should help calm down the business owners. Now you relax and let us do our job.”
“Relax? Our way of life in this town is being threatened. We must fight back.”
“And we are doing exactly that.” The chief had him out the door before the mayor appeared to know what happened.