by Carol Durand
While Chas retrieved their luggage, Missy practically dove into the beach bag that she’d brought in with her, and changed into the sassy cerulean swimsuit that she’d purchased specifically for the honeymoon. Feeling slightly self-conscious, she was nonetheless determined to indulge in her share of fun in the sun. As soon as her husband, (getting accustomed to using that term in reference to the handsome detective was a slow process), returned with their things, he quickly donned his suit and, throwing a couple of towels into the top of their beach bag, they headed down the weathered grey boardwalk that led to the beach.
The Beach House had thoughtfully provided lounge chairs, sunbrellas, and foam floating rafts for the enjoyment of their guests. Setting up two loungers under a turquoise and green striped sunbrella that was several feet away from the nearest other beachgoers, Missy and Chas strolled hand in hand down the sugar sand beach toward the azure waters of the Gulf. The water was cool and refreshing, and they swam and splashed and played like teenagers for nearly an hour, before heading back to their loungers to relax and dry in the warm Florida breeze. Toweling off, Missy noticed that a small cooler, with a note on top that said, “Compliments of the Beach House,” had been left between their chairs. Spreading out her towel on the lounger and easing onto it, she slipped the lid off of the cooler and found that it had been stocked with ice-cold bottled water, coconut water, and mango juice.
Chas selected coconut water and Missy grabbed a mango juice to enjoy while they recovered from their swim.
“Mmmm…this feels so good,” she smiled, reclining, eyes closed beneath her sunglasses.
“I could get used to this,” Chas agreed, setting his coconut water in the cup holder that was molded into the side of his lounger.
Their tranquil afternoon was interrupted just then, by the sound of voices raised in anger. Missy and Chas glanced over to see what was causing the commotion, and witnessed what looked like a marital spat happening between a couple who had settled under a sunbrella that was nearly a football field away. There was a man and a woman, who looked to be in their 50’s, clad in swimsuits, sitting in beach chairs, yelling at each other and making aggressive gestures. The newlyweds shared an uncomfortable look, then Chas shrugged and they both laid back and closed their eyes, trying their best to ignore the couple. They were far enough away that, despite their voices being heard, their words were unintelligible. Several minutes later, the wife stood up, hastily wrapped a large towel around her middle and tried to stalk away. Her husband grabbed her arm, and Chas was halfway out of his chair to intervene if necessary, when the man released his wife with a forceful shove and she ran, barefoot toward the inn.
“What should we do?” Missy asked, wide-eyed, her heart beating fast after having witnessed the awful event.
“Nothing…yet,” Chas said, his jaw flexing.
The angry man flopped back down in his lounger, crossed is arms over his chest and seemed to go to sleep. The mood ruined, Missy and Chas waited long enough to make sure that the woman would have had adequate time to walk to the inn in privacy, then gathered their things and left quietly, choosing to lay by the pool to dry off. They took the cooler with them to the pool, which was mercifully deserted.
“Do you think she’s okay?” Missy worried as they floated lazily in the shallow end.
The detective shrugged. “We can only hope so. People make strange choices sometimes.” He glanced at his waterproof watch. “If we want to go to afternoon tea, we should probably head back to the room in half an hour.”
“I think I’d like to give it a try. We don’t have to attend every day, but it’d be nice to meet some of the other guests, don’t you think?”
“Whatever you’d like, sweetie. I’m happy wherever I am, as long as I’m with you,” Chas charmed her with a smile and a kiss, tasting the salt of the ocean on her lips.
“I hope the woman from the beach is okay,” she went back to worrying, biting her lower lip.
“I hope so too, sweetie, but there’s nothing we can do at this point, so you need to stop worrying about it and focus on enjoying your honeymoon,” he directed.
“Sorry. I’ll pay attention to us from now on,” she promised, pulling herself up over the concrete edge of the pool and walking quickly to her sun chair.
“Good,” her husband replied, following her lead.
**
Chas was fully dressed in white linen trousers and a camel-colored button-down, but Missy still had to dry her hair before tea, so she sent him down first, to scout out the situation and let her know what it was like. She dried her hair, picking up her phone when she saw the screen light up with a text from her husband.
“You’re going to love this! Finger sandwiches, Petit Four cakes, English teas, all served on fine china…come on down when you’re ready!”
Missy smiled, reaching for her can of hairspray, excited to experience tea time at the Beach House. The guest rooms in the mansion opened up to a common hall that went to the left and the right at the top of the grand staircase. She pulled the door shut behind her, twisting the knob to make certain that it was locked, and started for the stairs, almost crashing into someone coming out of the room next door.
“Oh, excuse me!” she smiled apologetically, finding herself face to face with the woman from the beach. Before she could think to stop herself, she glanced quickly down at the woman’s arm, seeing the beginnings of a nasty bruise where she’d been manhandled.
“No problem,” the woman smiled tightly, clearly annoyed.
Impulsively, Missy decided to reach out to the battered woman. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but…”
Before she could even attempt to finish her sentence, the faked smile disappeared from the woman’s face. “Then don’t!” she snapped. “I don’t know who you think you are, little miss busybody, but you should just keep your nose in your own business if you know what’s good for you,” she snarled, turning her back on Missy and moving toward the stairs.
“I’m sorry, I…”
“Drop dead,” the woman said, without bothering to turn around.
Missy felt the color rising in her cheeks as she waited a moment before taking the stairs down. She was just trying to be kind, there was really no reason for that woman to have been so rude. Remembering what Chas had said, she tried as best she could to shake it off, and made her way to the parlor, shocked when she saw the woman from the hall cuddled up to the man who had roughed her up on the beach. She caught Chas’s eye from across the room and glanced subtly at the couple. He inclined his head, indicating with a look, that she should just leave it alone, and she made her way over to him, snagging a delicate china cup of Earl Grey on her way.
“Try this,” Chas popped a bite of finger sandwich into her mouth when she finally reached him.
“Oh my goodness, that’s delicious,” she raved, holding her hand in front of her mouth to be polite. She swallowed, then took a sip of tea to wash down the bite. The newlyweds sampled more of the delicious tidbits that were staged on crystal dishes, fine china and silver platters, each bite more wonderful than the last, and circulated among the other twenty or so guests who were milling about, meeting warm and lively folks from all over the country who were vacationing at the inn. They made a point of avoiding the couple from the beach, but Missy accidentally bumped into woman yet again when she went to the table to pluck another sweet shrimp from the silver shrimp tree.
“Do you ever watch where you’re going?” she demanded shrilly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Missy started to apologize, despite the woman’s rudeness.
“Yeah, well, you see what happened the last time you “didn’t mean to” run into me,” she snipped, indicating the bruise on her arm.
“That’s a lie!” Missy exclaimed, a little too loudly, drawing puzzled looks from the other guests. “That happened to you on the beach, I saw him, (she pointed to the husband/boyfriend/whatever who was standing behind the woman), grab you and push you. You
know darn well that I didn’t do that!” her kitten grey eyes flashed fire.
The woman’s eyes narrowed and just as she opened her mouth to respond, Chas intervened smoothly.
“Excuse me ma’am,” he spoke to the woman in a low, cordial voice. “I’m going to have to steal this lovely lady away from you for a moment, won’t you excuse us?” he smiled politely, spiriting Missy away before her temper burst forth again.
“Good riddance,” Missy heard as they glided to the far side of the parlor where they could have a bit of privacy.
“Chas, that, that…woman…” she began.
“Is entirely wrong and we both know it,” he said gently. “I vote that we go back upstairs, get dressed up and head into town for a really expensive dinner, what do you say?” he suggested, trying to distract his fuming bride. Not trusting herself to speak, she shot a dark glance at the woman’s back and nodded. They took a wrong turn down one of the corridors downstairs, trying to find the back staircase to their room, and happened to end up near the administrative office, where they heard the sound of someone crying. Peeking in the door, Missy saw their host, sitting at her desk, wiping away tears and trying to pull herself together enough to return to the tea party.
“Maggie?” she knocked softly on the door frame, startling the poor woman. “Are you okay? Is there anything we can do?” she asked, moving slowly into the office with Chas behind her.
The innkeeper smiled wanly, wiping her face with a tissue. “I’ll be okay, I just spoke with the owner of the inn, and he said that he has to sell it. His wife has been in poor health for quite some time, and they just don’t want the hassle of dealing with yet another business,” she explained.
“Oh no! That’s awful,” Missy sympathized.
“Yes, it is,” Maggie nodded. “This place has been a respite for travelers for more than a hundred years, and when it closes, not only is it the end of an era, but it’ll be the end of my job,” her lower lip trembled and she bit down to still it.
“What if someone new bought it? Could it stay open then?” she asked, trying to give her hostess some hope.
“Even if they did, there’s no guarantee that they’d keep it as a B & B, or that they’d retain me. Developers have been trying to get at this prime piece of real estate for years,” Maggie sighed. “I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t even be talking to you about this,” she shrugged hopelessly.
“Don’t feel bad,” Missy replied. “We won’t say anything. If we can help in any way at all while we’re here, just let us know, okay?” she offered, her southern hospitality rising to the surface.
“Thanks, but I’ll manage,” Maggie attempted a smile. “You two enjoy your evening.”
**
Chas drove them into the nearest town and headed for a 5-star seafood restaurant that he’d read about before making the trip to Florida. Since it was a weekday, and they arrived just after five o’clock, getting in wasn’t a problem, and sooner than they expected, they were making goo-goo eyes at each other across the table, and enjoying an ocean view and sunset that was spectacular. They had an amazing meal which included sweet, tender lobster tails, a chunky, creamy clam chowder, and young, succulent asparagus. The cuisine reminded Missy of the delightful fare that Becca Rogers had created for their wedding reception, and the memory brought a smile to her face.
“What?” Chas asked, taking her hand across the table and enjoying her contented expression.
“I’m just so happy,” she confessed, twining her fingers in his. “You know, I’ve been thinking…” she began.
“Uh-oh, that means trouble,” her husband teased.
She grinned and squeezed his hand. “I’ve been thinking,” she continued, “…that with Ben and Cheryl moving away, Echo moving away, and everything else that’s happened in LaChance the last couple of years…maybe it’s time for a change,” she shrugged.
“A change? What kind of change?” Chas asked, his blue eyes dazzling her.
“Like, maybe we should move…” she trailed off, looking at him hopefully.
“I’m not opposed to the idea,” he answered agreeably. “What did you have in mind?” Chas’s options were wide open. Because of his huge inheritance, he could live anywhere he wanted to, and now that they were married, the same applied to Missy.
“Well, when Maggie said that the owner of The Beach House was selling it, it gave me an idea. I’ve always thought that it would be fun to own a bed and breakfast, and if we bought that one, we could keep it open, Maggie could keep her job, the developers wouldn’t be able to swoop in and bulldoze it, and I could have a cupcake bakery down here,” she enthused.
“So you’ve already plotted out a course to save the world, haven’t you, my tender-hearted wife?” Chas asked, loving her more every minute.
“And the dogs would love the beach and the ocean, and we could go for long walks and swim whenever we wanted…” she continued her previous thought.
“But what about my work? I wouldn’t think there’d be much for a detective to do in this sleepy little area,” he pointed out.
“Oh. I hadn’t really thought about that part of it. Do you have to do police work? Couldn’t you just take people out cruising in a sailboat or something?”
Chas took a breath, thinking for a moment before responding. “Sweetie, I have to have a purpose in life. If I’m not working at doing something that helps people, I’m going to feel useless,” he explained.
Missy nodded, filled with admiration for the man she married. “I understand. What about charity work? Would that make you feel good?”
“I do charity work along with my job,” he reminded her. Seeing her deflate a bit, he changed tactics. “Let’s head back to the inn and do more talking,” he suggested. “I like the idea, we just need to think things through a bit. I just don’t know that there’d even be enough police work down here to keep me busy.”
He paid the check and they were mostly quiet, just enjoying each other’s company, on the way home. Missy yawned repeatedly, and looked forward to climbing into their massive feather bed.
They walked into the front foyer and were startled by a bloodcurdling scream. Maggie dashed inside, wild-eyed. “There’s a body in the pool!”
Chas and Missy looked at each other, Missy was scared, Chas was resolute. “Maybe there’s a purpose for me here after all,” he said grimly, heading for the pool area.
A letter from the Author
To each and every one of my Amazing readers: I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think by leaving a review!
I’ll be releasing another installment in two weeks or so to stay in the loop (and to get free books and other fancy stuff) Join my Book club.
Stay Curious,
Carol Durand