by Bree Baker
Amelia glanced over and the look on my face must’ve said what I couldn’t.
“Oh.” She honked and waved at a carload of men with surfboards tied to the roof. “Changing the subject, then. What’s the new detective like? Besides tall, dark, and mysterious. And handsome. Those dimples.” She sagged into a dreamy sigh.
I pulled my lips to one side, unwilling to respond. I’d already given Grady Hays more of my thoughts than I should have. And I refused to think about the dimples. They distracted me from my mission.
“Is he nice?” she asked. “No one seems to know, but you’ve been seen talking with him a lot.”
“That’s because he thinks I’m a murderess,” I grumped. “A dumb one too. Why would I kill someone with my tea? Could I pick a more obvious murder weapon?” It made me mad every time I thought about it. I couldn’t decide what was more offensive—the fact that he thought I would kill an old man, or that he thought I was stupid.
“Who knows why people do the things they do?” She shrugged. “Besides, he doesn’t know you very well yet. For all he knows, you could be crazy.”
I was getting there.
“His eyes are pretty,” Amelia went on. “Pale gray, like the moon on the sea.”
Along with being super smart, Amelia was dramatic. Four years of high school theater club had clearly left their mark. I shut my eyes to keep them from rolling, but now I was thinking about the infuriating detective again.
“He told me to stay out of his investigation. Can you believe that? He called it his investigation. Who’s more motivated to find the killer than me? It’s not like I’m showing up at his office in a trench coat and Columbo hat. I’m doing my own thing and reporting back. Completely out of his way.”
I stretched my neck and shook my hands out at the wrist, trying to release the sudden knots of tension that had appeared. I didn’t like thinking of Detective Hays’s unfair assumptions or twenty-five to life, so I changed the subject.
“I did a little research on Mr. Paine’s ex-wife last night. Lucinda Paine kept her married name, and she seems like a sweet old lady. Our trip is probably going to be a bust. Aside from the shopping, of course.”
“Shopping is never a bust. Plus she’ll be a wealth of knowledge. They were together for fifteen years, according to my dad. He didn’t know much about her when I asked, but then again, he avoided Mr. Paine like the plague. Dad hates when people harsh his mellow. He might have had two knee replacements, but he’s still a surfer at heart.”
I’d always liked Amelia’s dad, who was a lifetime Charm resident. “Well, according to the handful of local news articles I could dig up, Lucinda opened her jewelry shop after the divorce. She told the reporter covering her grand opening that she’d always dreamed of owning her own business, and that she’d grown up making things with sea glass, so she started designing earrings and the whole thing took off from there. Apparently, it’s been fast-growing, because she’s moved her store twice in seven years, both times to a larger venue.”
“Consider me jealous,” Amelia said. “I couldn’t afford a bigger space, even if I needed one. I actually met Mr. Paine a couple years ago while I was securing permits for renovations to Charming Reads. I turned a storage closet into an alcove to add more retail space. He was so fussy, I’m shocked he was ever married.”
“Lucinda’s name showed up in the Duck Daily Chronicle a couple times, without a photo. A charity chili cook-off at her church and some other nice old lady things. Makes me wonder what Sam had against her. Mr. Waters said she was fancy, but that’s hardly a reason for Sam to think she might’ve hurt her husband.”
“Sam’s pretty uptight,” Amelia said. “He probably has something against all of us.”
“Maybe,” I agreed.
“Only one way to find out about the ex, though.” Amelia hooked the next left past a carved wooden sign welcoming us to Duck. “Let’s start with her and get it over with. Then we can spend the rest of the day outlet shopping in Nags Head.”
“Deal.” I smiled. “Thanks again for this.”
Amelia coasted into a long, narrow parking lot lined with boutiques. “What are friends for?” She parked in the far corner, under the shade of a massive kite-shop sign. “There. Now we won’t burn our bottoms on the upholstery when we come back.”
Lucinda’s shop was across the way. Ocean Dreams had a wooden mermaid suspended in the front window, surrounded by bits of floating sea glass. If I had to guess, I’d say there was some clear fishing line involved in the effect, but we were too far away to tell.
I stepped out of the car as Amelia swung her feet out the driver’s side door and took her shoes off one-by-one, shaking them upside-down. “I can never get all the sand out. That little library bandit has had me coated in it for a week. It’s like high school all over again, except I didn’t used to mind the sand.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “That was before we became the ones who have to clean it up.” I watched as she dusted the bottoms of her feet with baby powder, then knocked the sand off with an easy swipe of her palm. A handy beach trick. I smiled, glad to spend the day with someone who knew it. “Have you had any luck figuring out who’s harassing you?”
“No.” She slipped her pumps back on and stood. “It could be anyone. Dad could’ve ticked someone off while he was watching the store for me, or maybe I did and didn’t know it. Sometimes I wonder if my ex would do something so juvenile, or his new wife. Then I remember they’re happy and don’t think about me at all.”
I twisted my mouth in a sympathetic look. “No enemies? Archrivals? Personal nemesis?”
She shook her head sadly. “Usually people love me. I run the only bookstore in town. I have an open-mic night for would-be poets and authors, story time for children, general interest speakers for adults, and the Sassy Sixties Book Club meets at my shop every Tuesday. The ladies always bring snacks. I make coffee. Dad covers the register, and he even wears aftershave. Everything was great until this started. Now I wake up in stress hives.”
“I’m so sorry,” I told her.
She started across the parking lot, and I followed.
“I can’t understand who’d want to bully me like this. It’s making me crazy. I’m losing sleep over it, and I think I lost a little extra hair in the shower this morning.”
“Yikes.” My heart ached for her. “I had no idea the sand bandit was getting to you like this. I can see why it would, I just didn’t know.”
She puffed air into long, side-swept bangs, setting them aflutter. “I’m trying to play it cool, but truthfully, I want to cry every time I think about it. The police have put the situation at the bottom of their priority list, and I can only be in one place at a time, but I have four libraries to keep an eye on, plus the store.” She tipped her head back and groaned.
“Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll help. We can divide and conquer. I’ll take the two Little Libraries on the boardwalk as soon as I get through my grand opening party. With two of us on the job, we’ll catch whoever is doing this in no time.”
Amelia stopped outside the door to Ocean Dreams. “You don’t have to do that. I didn’t mean to make you feel like it was your problem. You’ve already got a mess of your own to sort out.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dug up my best mobster impression. “Hey. If you’ve got a problem, then I’ve got a problem.”
She opened the glass door with a wide smile. “Fine. I accept.”
I smiled back. I was officially assisting in two local crime investigations. Detective Hays would hate it.
Now, to confront Lucinda Paine.
A blast of cold air from the vent above the door shot goose bumps down my spine. I tried not to think of it as an omen.
The store’s interior was pale blue, lined in silver shelves and glass cases. I dragged a fingertip across a display filled with jewelry. Amelia sto
pped at a shelf full of seashell and sand sculptures. Everything was very pretty and smelled like patchouli.
“Welcome to Ocean Dreams,” a charming female voice called.
“Hello,” Amelia answered.
I turned my eyes from a gorgeous sea-glass necklace to the sexagenarian woman in a black pantsuit greeting my friend.
“Looking for anything in particular?” the woman asked. Lucinda was written on her name tag. “A gift, perhaps?”
“Just shopping,” Amelia said. “We’re having a girls’ day out.”
“Oh? Where are you from?”
I zipped over to Amelia’s side. “Charm,” I answered with a smile. “Do you know it?”
The woman’s smile drooped. “Quite well. Excuse me.” She drifted away without further discussion, off to help a man inspecting a delicate-looking glass figurine. Her white hair was gracefully looped into a chignon, and her gait screamed poise and self-importance. I struggled to reconcile the image before me with her goody-two-shoes portrayal in the local paper. I supposed someone could be a bit of a snob and still believe in volunteerism and community outreach.
I grabbed a sandcastle paperweight and went after her. “How much is this?” I interrupted her chastising the man for handling the figurine.
She frowned at my rudeness, and the man took the opportunity to escape her scolding.
“Sorry,” I said. “I thought you were finished.”
Lucinda crossed her arms. “That sandcastle was handmade. I collected the materials from the beach myself, then sculpted them into what you see there. An authentic product of this island, and I’m asking one hundred seventy for it.”
“Dollars?” I asked, mystified. “You just told me you made it from our sand. There’s an infinity of that right outside the door.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you really here?”
“What?”
“Do I look like I was born yesterday?” She stomped back toward the counter, and I followed with Amelia on my heels. Lucinda stopped beneath a massive sea-glass mosaic on the back wall and turned to us. “You’re from Charm, so you know about what happened to my ex-husband. Is that why you’re here? You’re what? Reporters?” She looked us up and down. “You don’t look like cops. Are you the ones who write that blog Benedict was so up in arms about?”
“Of course not,” I protested. “Let me explain.”
She parked her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “I ought to call the police. This is harassment.”
I pulled my palms up and took a step back. “We knew your ex-husband, and we’re very sorry about what happened. That’s all.”
Lucinda gave us another appraising stare. “How did you know him?”
I forced a tight smile, prepared to skirt over the details about how Mr. Paine hated me for going against his wishes in opening Sun, Sand, and Tea. “We own shops in Charm, and we got to know him through his position on the council. We really are sorry about your loss.”
Her shoulders relaxed and the anger drained from her face. “Benedict was a good man,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “He was what a man should be. Confident. Steadfast.” She pressed her lips into a tight line and her cheeks flushed. “I loved him so much.”
Amelia glanced my way.
I stood helpless and frozen as she swiped falling tears off her wrinkled cheeks. They were divorced, but she still loved him.
“Do you have any idea who might’ve wanted to hurt him?” I asked, hoping the question sounded less awful to her ears than mine. I’d come all this way for the answer, I had to know.
“No.” She patted her cheeks and took a steadying breath. “Benedict was opinionated and he wasn’t shy about it, but people respected him. Except that lunatic of an iced tea-maker. She’s the one who killed him.”
I gasped. My heart jumped into third gear, and I checked my proximity to the nearest exit. Amelia curled a hand over her lips and her cheeks lifted in a smile.
Lucinda lifted her eyebrows. “What? Hadn’t you heard who was responsible?”
“Um.” I chewed my lip, unsure how to proceed. “People are saying the tea-maker has an alibi. Maybe Mr. Paine had been arguing with someone else lately. Do you know if there was anything unusual going on in his life?”
She seemed to consider the question. “Benedict’s entire life was unusual. He was a busy man in love with an island.” She gave a soft laugh. “He cared about everything that went on there, and he strived to preserve the place he’d fallen in love with. I always said that place would be the death of him. I’d just assumed it would be figurative.”
“Was he butting heads with anyone in particular lately?” I prodded.
“He worked on the town council. He was continuously at odds with someone. Trying to keep things in Charm the way he liked was a real drain. Real estate developers hated him. Homeowners weren’t much better. Everyone wants to add a business to their private residence these days. It was a pet peeve of Benny’s. And anyone trying to open a franchise…” She did a dramatic head roll. “Forget about it.”
I chewed my lip, wishing I wasn’t so out of the loop on local drama, and trying to get over anyone calling Mr. Paine Benny. “Did you say the gossip blogger had him worked up? Why?”
“You’re certainly asking a lot of questions for someone who claims not to be a reporter.” Lucinda narrowed her eyes at me. “What did you say your name was?”
The room seemed to grow smaller under her heavy gaze. “I’m…” I began, then trailed off.
I looked to Amelia for help. Giving out our names seemed stupid. If I got reported for bothering her, Detective Hays was sure to lecture me again.
Amelia fluttered her eyelids dramatically, then stumbled against my side, the back of one hand pressed to her forehead like a fainting Southern belle. “Goodness, I feel ill. Is it hot in here? I’m afraid I’ve gone woozy.”
I gripped the display case to steady myself under her weight. “Oh dear.” I shot Lucinda an apologetic look. “I’d better get her something to drink and find her a cool place to rest. This happens to her sometimes.”
“Ohhh,” Amelia moaned. “Do you see the spots?”
I darted for the door while Amelia clung to my side and we staggered down the street as fast as I could move while supporting her weight. We didn’t stop until I smelled waffle fries. “Here.” I pulled her into a shop with shave-ice posters on the window. The smells of hot fudge and fruit smoothies wafted over me, and my mouth watered.
Amelia righted herself with a smile. “I have to tell you, those years of theater have paid off tenfold since becoming an adult.” She got in line and ordered a frozen lemonade.
I bought a bottle of water and a small sweet tea. The first was to quench my thirst. The second was reconnaissance. Amelia was right—I might as well try all the sweet tea I came across so I knew what else was out there.
The waitress typed our order into a tablet. “Those will be ready for you at the end of the counter.”
I connected to the free Wi-Fi while we waited. “Lucinda asked if we were from the blog that Mr. Paine was so worked up about. She had to mean the Charm gossip blog, right? Maybe he uncovered the identity of the person stirring up trouble, and the blogger wanted to silence him. I should probably also see if someone from the town council will talk to me about whatever Mr. Paine had been working on for them. Maybe one of those pesky entrepreneurs did him in.”
“It’s worth a try,” Amelia said, “but I like the blog, and it isn’t always making trouble. The blogger’s identity is a secret, which irritates some people, that’s all. I go on there once in a while to check the local calendar and read funny recaps of events I attend. I’ve never been offended by what I’ve seen, though I’m admittedly not a regular reader. You should check it out. See what you think. The articles are a little sensationalized, and the photos are never flattering, but the i
nformation is rarely wrong.”
“I’m going there now.” I typed the URL into the web browser on my phone. The page loaded at a snail’s pace. There was a scrolling weather report, a sidebar with water conditions, a tide schedule, coupons for local businesses.
I sucked in air as my senior high school photo appeared beside a shot of the outside of Sun, Sand, and Tea. “That’s me!”
“Yeah,” Amelia said. “You’ve been a hot topic for a while now, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“Good grief.” I tucked that in my mental files for later. “If Lucinda reads today’s post, she’ll know I’m the lunatic iced tea-maker.”
Amelia giggled. “That was funny.”
I scrolled past the photos, afraid to read the latest article, written yesterday morning.
“What does it say?” she asked, peeping over my shoulder.
“Sun, Sand, and Tea: It’s to Die For.” I tried not to have a stroke. “I can’t read it.” I shoved the phone into Amelia’s hand. “Detective Hays already made it sound as if Mr. Paine died drinking my tea. I won’t survive another hit, especially not like this. Wide-scale. And memorialized forever on the internet.” I covered my face with both hands. “Read it.”
“‘Charm, North Carolina, is known for many things,’” Amelia began. “‘Wild horses, amazing sunrises, and a rich and storied history, to name a few. The natural treasures, from our shores and bays to our preserves and people, are unrivaled anywhere in the world, and believe me, I’ve been everywhere. Our humble town is just far enough off the beaten path to be a true hideaway and close enough to the mainland bridge for folks to return year after year. And what says Southern summer days louder than a clean, sandy beach and a jar of good old-fashioned sweet tea?’”
I lowered one hand. “This doesn’t sound like a slander piece.”
“Shh.” Amelia waved her fingers at me. “‘A few things happened last winter that got our little town excited for spring. One was the rousing tour of birders, but that’s an article for another time. Second was the return of our own Miss Everly Swan. For those of you who are unfamiliar, the Swan family has been a part of our town since the land was settled in 1702. Swan women are a staple in our society, and when we discovered her intentions to open an iced tea shop this spring, we were thrilled. Needless to say, it was a long winter.’”