by Leena Clover
“Never set eyes on the guy,” he said. “Are you handing these out to people? Why don’t I take a few?”
Jenny handed him a few copies when he left.
“Who is this guy?” Jenny wailed later as she drank a fresh cup of coffee.
Betty Sue and Heather had come along for their mid-morning break. The group was assembled on the deck out back. Black clouds lined the horizon and the waves seemed a bit stronger.
“Storm coming in,” Betty Sue said.
“That’s what Adam said.”
“When did you meet Adam?” Heather asked with a gleam in her eyes.
“I ran into him on the beach last night.”
“What were you doing there, Jenny?” Petunia asked. “Didn’t you go home to take care of your aunt?”
“I did!” Jenny assured her friends. “I went for a walk after dinner.”
“Wonder what Adam was doing there,” Betty Sue said cagily. “It’s not like he lives in that side of town.”
Jenny’s thoughts were occupied by the man in the picture.
“He’s a ghost,” Jenny said.
Molly Henderson joined them.
“I’m taking an early lunch. Can I have one of your famous chicken salad sandwiches, Jenny?”
“Jenny just made a new batch,” Petunia said proudly. “People really love them.”
Jenny went inside to rustle up Molly’s sandwich.
“What’s the latest?” Molly asked the others. “Anything new happen in Pelican Cove?”
“We are talking about that guy in the picture,” Heather spoke up. “Not a single person in town recognizes him.”
“What’s the Spring Fest going to be like this year?” Molly asked, changing the subject.
“The Spring Fest will be fine,” Betty Sue dismissed. “There are more urgent things underfoot.”
“Did you put up a picture in the library?” Petunia asked suddenly. “Jenny’s been handing these out at local businesses, but we completely forgot the library.”
“I don’t think it will make any difference,” Molly argued. “Hardly anyone goes to the library these days.”
“What are you talking about, girl?” Betty Sue demanded. “Other than the Boardwalk Café, the library is the one place in town everyone visits.”
“Young or old…” Petunia added.
“Maybe he was a tourist, just driving through town.” Heather scratched her head. “He could have been on his way north into Chincoteague, or Delaware.”
“Or he could be one of those salesmen,” Petunia said, “selling new roofs or something.”
“What’s going on?” Jenny asked, placing Molly’s food in front of her.
Molly picked up a potato chip and bit into it.
“That man,” Petunia explained to Jenny. “We are talking about how none of the people in town seem to know him.”
“And Molly needs to put up his mug shot at the library,” Heather added.
The four women trained their eyes on Molly, waiting for her to say yes.
“Alright, alright, I’ll take care of it. Now let me eat my lunch.”
The group broke up after that. Jenny placed a couple of pictures on the table in front of Molly.
“Thanks, Molls.”
Molly stuffed the pictures in her bag.
Hours later, Jenny and Petunia were ready to close the café and go home. There was a tapping sound on the wooden steps and Jenny spied Adam coming up the stairs.
“We are closed but I can rustle up a sandwich if you’re hungry,” Jenny said with a smile.
“I’m not here to eat,” Adam said grimly. “We need to talk.”
He looked imposing in his sheriff’s uniform. Jenny stared into his glowering blue eyes as all six feet two of him towered over her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling at her necklace and rubbing one of the charms in it.
Adam jabbed a finger at the bulletin board.
“This! You’re making a mockery of my investigation.”
“How so?” Jenny asked, placing one hand on her hip. “I’m just trying to gather some information.”
“That’s my job!” Adam snapped.
“I’m just asking people if they saw this man around town.”
“Where did you get this picture anyway?”
“My aunt drew it from the photo you showed her.”
“It’s almost an exact likeness,” Adam admitted grudgingly.
“Have you found out who he is?”
“We are making inquiries,” Adam said. “I can’t tell you anything more.”
“I’m not asking you, am I?” Jenny said pertly. “But I can ask people in town. I don’t think I’m breaking any law by doing that.”
“You are meddling in something that isn’t your business.”
“I need to protect my aunt. You arrested her on the most flimsy evidence. I’m just making sure it won’t happen again.”
“You can’t dictate what the police do,” Adam warned.
“What if I find someone who had a motive to kill this man? Will you drop the charges against Star?”
Adam pursed his lips.
“Let me answer that,” Jenny said briskly. “You will have to. And that’s what I am trying to do.”
“You are a civilian. This could be dangerous, Jenny.”
“There’s no danger here,” Jenny dismissed. “I don’t see the harm in showing a picture around.”
“And how’s that working for you?” Adam raised his eyebrows.
“I’m just getting started,” Jenny said.
“I think what you’re doing is silly.”
“Let’s not talk about it then,” Jenny bristled. “Good night!”
Petunia stood behind the kitchen door, her mouth hanging open. She had listened to the whole exchange. She didn’t know what to make of it. Adam Hopkins had never been so confrontational with anyone before.
Jenny grilled fish for dinner later that evening. She had poured a glass of Chardonnay for herself and Star. The wine came from Pelican Cove’s local winery and was perfect with the sea bass Jenny was cooking.
“Crab season’s almost here,” Star said as she took a sip. “Wait till you taste our local blue crabs. You’re going to love them, Jenny.”
“I’m working on a crab dip recipe,” Jenny said. “Petunia said we have full access to the Bayview Inn’s garden. They have a nice patch of herbs.”
“The soft shell crabs are the best. Ethan does them very well. Have you been to his crab shack yet?”
“Haven’t had the time,” Jenny said. “Let’s go there for dinner sometime.”
“Ethan’s one handsome hunk,” Star said.
Jenny rolled her eyes.
“But, he’s taken. Unlike his brother.”
“And who is his brother?” Jenny asked, humoring her aunt.
“Adam, of course!”
“Adam Hopkins?” Jenny asked, fanning herself. “Pelican Cove’s too small for two Hopkins men.”
“Wait till you meet him, sweetie,” Star said cryptically.
The two women laughed and joked over dinner. Jenny grew serious as she dished up a sorbet for their dessert.
“How was your day, Auntie? Are you holding up well?”
Star waved off her concern.
“I finished a canvas I was working on and started painting Seaview. I can do that from our yard. I love painting that house.”
“Why is it empty?” Jenny asked curiously. “It’s such a gorgeous property. Why hasn’t someone snapped it up yet?”
“It’s a long story,” Star said. “Something bad happened there. People around here think that place is jinxed.”
“That’s just superstition,” Jenny said.
“Most people here come from seafaring families. Sailors are a superstitious bunch.”
Jenny’s mind drifted to the dead stranger.
“Would you say people here are vigilant?”
“You mean they are gossips?” Star smirked. “We don’t have much else
to keep us busy.”
“Then how is it no one recognizes that dead man? Is it possible he came to Pelican Cove and no one ran into him?”
“He ran into one person alright,” Star said, making the double quote sign with her fingers. “The person who sent him to the other world.”
“I must have talked to dozens of people, Star.”
“Don’t you see, Jenny?” Star asked as she drained her wine. “At least one of them is lying.”
Chapter 9
Jenny was lost in thought as she frosted some cupcakes a few days later. She had shown the dead man’s sketch around town several times. She figured almost every person living in Pelican Cove must have visited the Boardwalk Café in the past few days. Every person coming in had been diligently directed to the bulletin board. Chris at the seafood market or Eddie at the pub hadn’t had any luck with the photo either. Jenny wondered what else she could do to help things along.
“This won’t do,” she said resolutely, shaking her head.
“Are you talking to yourself, dear?” Petunia asked, coming into the kitchen with a stack of empty plates.
Jenny looked up at Petunia.
“We need to do something more.”
“Are you talking about the dead guy?” Petunia asked, catching on. “I think you are taking plenty of effort to find out who he is, or was.”
“Whatever I’m doing is not enough, since we are not getting any results. Maybe I need to take a step back and look at it from a distance.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” Jenny mumbled, already lost in thought again.
“What’s on your mind today?” Heather asked as they sipped coffee later that morning.
Betty Sue was knitting with emerald green wool.
“This is going to make a wonderful scarf for someone,” she hinted.
“Do you know the beach near the Newbury property?” Jenny asked Heather. “Can anyone go there?”
“It’s a private beach,” Heather replied. “I doubt the hoi polloi are allowed inside the queen’s palace.”
“Don’t be daft, girl,” Betty Sue snapped.
She turned to look at Jenny.
“There’s a small stretch of land there that belongs to the town so it has public access. Ada Newbury had marked her property line with a sign board but the kids keep striking it down.”
“So if someone started walking on this beach, they could walk onto the private portion without knowing they were trespassing?”
“I guess so,” Betty Sue said. “Tourists go up to the lighthouse all the time and they stray over onto Newbury land. It’s Ada Newbury’s pet peeve.”
“Let’s go there, Heather,” Jenny said, standing up.
“Wait a minute,” Molly said.
She had been busy flipping through a magazine all that time.
“I thought you had let this go, Jenny. Are you still hung up on that guy?”
“Star is still implicated. I can’t let this go until I prove her innocence.”
Jenny turned to Heather.
“Are you coming or not?”
Heather looked at her grandma.
“You don’t need my permission,” Betty Sue said. “Anyone would think I make you work like a slave.”
Jenny and Heather took the road leading to the Newbury house. The road ran parallel to the beach. The girls could see tall sea grasses and sand stretching to meet the water.
“Stop!” Heather cried as she spied a small turnoff. “This goes to the lighthouse. I remember it now.”
They parked the car by the side of the road and started walking.
“How far do we have to go to reach the Newbury estate?” Jenny asked.
“I am not sure where their section of the beach begins,” Heather said, pausing to think a bit. “It’s a 20-30 minute walk.”
Jenny nodded.
“Let’s pace ourselves, in that case.”
“What are we doing here, Jenny?” Heather asked.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I guess I want to see the place where they found the guy. Maybe I’ll think of something when we get there.”
“But how will we know where they found him?” Heather asked.
“The police use tape to cordon off crime scenes to keep people out.”
“You think it’s still there?” Heather frowned. “On the beach?”
Jenny shrugged.
“We won’t know until we go look.”
“Okay. I don’t mind.”
It was a warm Spring day and the sun was high over their heads. Jenny felt herself beginning to sweat. She had never focused on fitness in her previous life. Her walks on the beach had improved her stamina a bit but walking in the sun was still tedious. She paused to catch her breath.
An old lighthouse loomed in the distance. The faded red and white bands managed to look striking against the blue backdrop of the ocean and the sky. Jenny could see a couple of figures near the base of the lighthouse. One of the figures had a shock of red hair which tugged at her memory.
“Is that Kevin?” she asked Heather, pointing in the distance.
“Sure looks like him,” Heather agreed. “No one else has that shock of red hair in Pelican Cove.”
“What’s he doing here on this deserted beach?” Jenny panted.
“Delivering mail?” Heather quirked her eyebrow.
“To whom?”
“Jimmy Parsons, I guess. He lives in the lighthouse.”
“Someone lives in the lighthouse?” Jenny asked. “Isn’t it abandoned?”
“I suppose he doesn’t exactly live inside the lighthouse,” Heather reasoned. “There’s a small cottage next to it. He lives there.”
“But why?” Jenny asked.
“The Parsons family owns the lighthouse. They have always taken care of it.”
“Does the lighthouse still work?”
“Oh no,” Heather said. “It was decommissioned long ago. There’s a new light up north.”
“Why does he live here then?”
“I don’t know. He’s a recluse, and a drunk.”
Jenny processed this information as the girls walked on. The red headed figure started walking toward them. Kevin gave them his usual salute as he came closer.
“Hello ladies! What are you doing here?”
Heather opened her mouth but paused as Jenny put an arm on her shoulder.
“Just taking a walk,” Jenny said. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” Kevin, the mailman nodded. “Are you planning to visit Jimmy?”
He looked back at the lighthouse.
“Not particularly,” Heather wrinkled her nose.
Jenny said nothing.
“He’s up and about today,” Kevin told them. “A bit grumpy though.”
“When is he not grumpy?” Heather asked.
“Stop by later at the café, Kevin,” Jenny said. “I’ll save a cupcake for you. It’s a new recipe I am trying out.”
“Can’t say no to your cooking, Jenny,” Kevin smiled. “See ya later.”
“Looks like you don’t like this Jimmy,” Jenny said to Heather as they saw Kevin reach the road and go out of sight.
“He’s not really Mr. Sunshine. You’ll see for yourself.”
Jenny noticed the small cottage near the base of the lighthouse as they got closer. It was more like a shack or lean-to with a small porch and two rickety steps leading up to it. A tall, skinny man came out and sat down on the steps, digging his feet into the sand. He was bald and barefoot. A scraggly beard covered his chin and Jenny shrank back as the wind carried over an unpleasant smell. Stale liquor, sweat and who knows what else, Jenny decided.
“Howdy ladies!” the man hailed them.
“Looks like he’s in a talking mood,” Heather said under her breath.
She walked over and introduced Jenny.
“You that chicken necker everyone’s been talking about?”
Jimmy Parsons spoke the dialect of the island
ers. It was really strong in some people like Betty Sue and Eddie Cotton, people who had lived on the island all their lives.
“Be nice, Jimmy!” Heather warned.
Jimmy Parsons ignored her and continued talking to Jenny.
“Fellas say you make a mean sandwich.”
“Why don’t you come by the café sometime?” Jenny smiled. “I’ll make my special chicken sandwich for you.”
“Mighty kind of you,” he nodded. “Say…what are you ladies doing out here at this hour?”
“Did you hear about the body they found a few days ago?” Jenny asked.
“What body?”
“A man died on this beach,” Jenny explained. “Actually, he was murdered.”
“How come I didn’t know?” he asked.
“It was near the Newburys’ beach,” Heather supplied. “How far is that from here?”
“Not far,” Jimmy said, scratching his beard. “Their property line starts a quarter of a mile down from here. You’ll know when you see their warning sign.”
“Have you seen this man before?” Jenny asked, whipping out the picture she carried everywhere.
Jimmy glanced at the photo briefly.
“Can’t say I have. Is this the dead guy? What was he doing out here?”
“That’s what we are trying to find out,” Jenny said grimly.
“Shouldn’t the police be doing that?” Jimmy asked.
“They should…”
“Star was arrested,” Heather spoke up suddenly. “Jenny’s trying to prove she’s innocent.”
Jimmy’s face changed color when he heard Star’s name.
“What’s Star got to do with it? Are the police daft? Go talk to that Hopkins boy.”
“He’s the one who arrested my aunt,” Jenny informed Jimmy.
He clutched his head suddenly and groaned. He stood up and went inside. Jenny and Heather looked at each other, wondering if he was coming back.
Jimmy Parsons came out, taking a swig from an amber colored bottle.
“What are ya’ll yapping about? How does your aunt come into this, missy?”
“Star is Jenny’s aunt,” Heather bristled. “I thought you knew that.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened and he stared at Jenny.
“Say, are you that little girl that used to visit her 30 some years ago? You’ve puffed up quite a bit, huh?”
“I’m older now,” Jenny blushed. “In my 40s.”