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Phoebe T. Eggli
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Bonus Chapter
Sample Chapter from Book 3 of the Outer Banks Baker Mystery Series
Recipes:
Chapter 1
Situated just south of Kill Devil Hills, NC, Oregon Inlet served to separate the more bustling northern Outer Banks communities from the small barrier islands. A massive hurricane in 1846 created the inlet - a new body of water between Bodie Island and Pea Island. The “Oregon” a ship trapped in the Pamlico Sound during the storm, witnessed the rift-causing event. Thus, the name. This spot had been well-known for ages as the prime fishing spot for any avid fisherman or woman.
William Hawkins spent what seemed to be his entire life with Johnson Shipping International. Now, at age 62, he finally realized his dream…to fish. Anytime, anywhere. He would no longer be a victim of the white-collar meat-grinder. His wife was none too happy with his abrupt early retirement. Frankly, he no longer cared what she wanted. As far as he was concerned, tonight was the most exciting day of his life. No meetings. No status reports due. No finding new ways to cover up details of dirty deals for Mr. Edward Johnson, Sr. No, today was wide open. Nothing for him to do but breathe in the salt air off the Atlantic Ocean as he repeatedly cast his large surf rod and reel into the waters of Oregon Inlet. William meant to spend as much of his retirement right here with a fishing rod in one hand and a bottle of Coors in the other. Most importantly, he meant to spend as much time away from his nagging wife of 40 years.
As the sun descended over the infamous North Carolina dunes, William unloaded his old light blue ’72 Chevrolet C20 truck. He had everything he needed for an entire night’s worth of fishing:
One rod and reel
Full tackle box with all the essentials for surf fishing
Cooler full of beer and water bottles, with plenty of bait wedged in
Italian sub on wheat bread with chips from the local bait and sandwich shop
Extra jacket if the breeze off the ocean got too chilly
Loaf of lemon sage bread still wrapped in the decorative paper from the Kill Devil Delicacies bakery to snack on
Beach chair with cup holder
Camp lanterns and a large flashlight
Large fish net
Cell phone (turned off)
Yes, William was set for his first perfect night as a retiree.
Hours later, as the sun began to rise again over the Atlantic Ocean, Logan slowed his scooter down as it traversed the pavement onto the sandy beach of Oregon Inlet. The place was mostly deserted, except for an ancient looking truck parked further out, closer to the rocks bordering the bridge. The young teen didn’t see anyone around though. Whoever owned the truck must be nearby as a ragged beach chair was still embedded in the sand, despite the tide threatening to engulf it.
Before unloading his own fishing gear from the small compartment on the back of the scooter, Logan attempted to rescue the chair before it was washed away by the waves. As he moved the chair back to higher ground, he looked around for the truck’s occupant. “It’s probably some dude passed out after a night of fishing and drinking,” he thought as he approached the Chevy. This spot was known for night fishing, but his aunt never allowed him to fish alone at night. Mostly because she knew it was common for night fisherman to bring plenty of alcohol to keep them company throughout the long hours until dawn. With his aunt’s boyfriend working the night shift, Logan had to wait for morning.
As the teenaged boy turned the corner of the truck, he discovered an elderly man lying unconscious in the sand. He ran over to check if the man was okay. Logan noticed the awkward position of the man’s body, as if he had fallen from the tailgate of the truck over the side. He kneeled beside the white-haired man and shook him slightly in an attempt to wake him. Unsuccessful, the boy worried that the man was seriously injured or had a heart attack. Intending to attempt CPR, he checked for a pulse and leaned over to listen to his chest for a heartbeat. No pulse, no heartbeat, no breath. The man was already cold to the touch.
In a panic, Logan grabbed a cell phone that was clutched in the dead man’s hand. He dialed 911. After he relayed all the information to the 911 operator and waited for the paramedics to arrive, the frightened young man thought back to last summer. To say it had been eventful would be an understatement. At the start of his summer vacation, he discovered the dead body of Mrs. Stevenson in his Aunt Mel’s bakery – the Kill Devil Delicacies. It had not taken long to prove his aunt didn’t kill the woman, but the event had cast a damper over the start of his summer. The majority of the season had been salvaged once they discovered the real killer. Although he admitted it had added excitement to his vacation, he had hoped that this summer would be less dramatic. Sadly, Logan’s summer was about to get much worse.
Chapter 2
Here it was the second day of Logan’s summer vacation in Kill Devil Hills, NC with his Aunt Melissa and he already experienced a severe case of déjà vu. Just last summer he and his aunt found the dead body of Mrs. Linda Stevenson in his aunt’s bakery, the Kill Devil Delicacies. This year he found Mr. Hawkins lying dead in the sand at his favorite fishing spot, Oregon Inlet. Secretly, Logan hoped this was not a recurring theme for his summer vacations. Just like last year, Logan had been taken to the police precinct for questioning. At least this time he wasn’t shoved in the back of a squad car. His aunt’s new boyfriend, Detective Jason Payne, drove the boy in his personal pickup truck. Worry etched the cop’s face. To discover a dead body once was traumatic enough for anyone, but twice? He knew the kid was tough. Still he hoped the boy was holding up on the inside. On the way back from the inlet, Jason gave the boy his phone to call his aunt who planned to meet them at the precinct. All he could think of was that at least this time it appeared the death was due to natural causes.
When they arrived at the station, Melissa was already there waiting. Jason saw the concern written across her fair features. He remembered last summer clearly as well. He knew all too well how she loved her nephew and fretted over his well-being. Although not her fault at all, she still felt she was to blame for all the drama Logan experienced last summer. There was nothing she could’ve done to change the events of the past, but seeing the young man still in a state of shock from his latest gruesome discovery broke her heart.
Logan tried to smile to reassure his aunt, but his heart just wasn’t in it. It was bad enough to come upon a dead person, but did that person have to be a beloved relative of his summer sweetheart, Emily? She was due to arrive in town the next weekend to
visit her grandparents. She would be heartbroken at the death of her grandfather. This certainly was not the way anyone should start off their summer vacation.
Jason offered to take Logan’s statement quickly so Melissa could take the poor boy home. His new partner, Cory Bronson, stayed behind at the scene to catalog evidence, if there was anything to find. Jason’s hunch was that the old man either slipped in the back of his truck or had a heart attack. A quick skim of the surrounding area before he left with Logan didn’t raise any red flags. His first gut reaction was that Mr. Hawkins had passed away doing what he loved best – fishing. Before escorting Logan into an office to take his statement, Jason stopped by the Chief’s office to inquire if someone had already been dispatched to inform Mrs. Hawkins of her husband’s death. Reassured that the task was being taken care of, Jason led Logan to a nearby conference room. Unlike last year, he could question the boy in an open office instead of a closed interrogation room where his answers were recorded and he was watched through the two-way mirror.
The session was short and to the point. Logan told his story a couple times for the record. He arrived on his scooter just before sunrise to fish at Oregon Inlet. His aunt, Melissa Maples, knew he left the house around 4:50 AM to go fishing. Standing in the doorway, she nodded “yes” to indicate she did see him at that time and that he intended to go fishing. Logan explained he pulled up to the sandy shores of the inlet and saw a dilapidated truck at the far corner near the rocks but didn’t see anyone around. He explained about retrieving the beach chair from the surf. Then he walked over to the truck and found Mr. Hawkins face down in the sand. At that point, Logan became freaked out but was able to check for a pulse. There was no pulse and Mr. Hawkins was not breathing. He managed to grab the man’s cell phone and call 911. Logan implored the detective to believe he didn’t touch anything else from that point on. He simply waited for the paramedics.
Satisfied with the boy’s statement, Jason reassured Logan that he believed him. “Most likely, son,” he began, “Mr. Hawkins died of natural causes. He was old and not in the best health. I’m sorry you had to be the one to find him though. Let’s try to not make it a habit every summer, okay?” The detective’s slight attempt at humor at least got a small smile out of the boy. His aunt, on the other hand, stood in the doorway and rolled her eyes. Jason offered to drive them home, but Melissa thought it best they get some fresh air. By walking home, they could talk and perhaps grab some muffins and coffee on the way. She had already called her new bakery assistant, Madeline “Maddie” Vittone, an elderly lady recently retired to Kill Devil Hills from Boston. Retirement hadn’t kept her busy enough so Melissa hired her shortly after her last assistant had been arrested last summer. Maddie would take care of things at the bakery while Melissa took care of Logan for the rest of the day.
Back at Oregon Inlet, Detective Bronson and a team of uniformed cops searched the beach for any clues to indicate foul play. Everything had been stuffed in evidence bags. There wasn’t a lot to take in – just Mr. Hawkins’ fishing gear, snacks, and cell phone. He saw the opened bread bag from his partner’s girlfriend’s bakery and half considered snagging it for himself, but thought better of it. He loved her lemon sage bread which was indicated on the label. Instead he zipped it up in a police bag and threw it in the back of the squad car with the rest.
As the tow truck arrived to carry off Mr. Hawkins vehicle to the police impound, the young detective looked around the beach one last time. Everyone on the scene believed Mr. Hawkins had probably died from a heart attack or slipped in the back of his truck. It simply made sense. However, something bothered the astute, ambitious detective. He couldn’t figure it out at first. Something just did not seem right to him. Shrugging the feeling off, the young detective turned to leave. Opening the door to his squad car, he caught sight of a dead seagull just a few feet away. Nothing unusual about that. Glancing around again, he noticed another dead seagull over by the rocks. Another dead seagull being carried out to sea by the surf. The tow truck pulled Mr. Hawkins truck away. Hitting a bump as the truck traversed the terrain from sandy beach to asphalt, another dead seagull body flopped out of the back of the truck bed. Scouring the scene one more time, Detective Bronson saw a number of the dead birds littering the inlet. One or two were normal, but more than that raised a red flag. He hailed one of the remaining officers over and ordered them to comb the area for the dead birds and to take them in as evidence. With a confused expression, the man nodded his head and proceeded in his grisly task. That pit in his stomach grew as the detective realized that all was not as simple as it initially appeared. Perhaps Mr. Hawkins had been a victim of foul play after all.
Chapter 3
After an incredibly long day, Jason pulled his truck up to the curb just outside Melissa Maple’s quaint cottage. Over the last year it had begun to feel like his second home. The relationship had started rocky, especially since he had to arrest her last summer for the murder of Mrs. Stevenson. He hadn’t believed she was guilty, but the evidence had been enough to warrant her arrest. Thankfully, the beautiful baker had not held it against him after she was proven innocent.
The rest of last summer they spent getting to know each other. Melissa was widowed after her husband died in a tragic plane crash so she was shy about starting a relationship. Being divorced, Jason empathized. The two had decided to take small baby steps and simply see where things went. An added bonus was his newfound friendship with Melissa’s teenage nephew Logan. The boy had been through a lot last summer, but he was strong and resilient. Jason admired the young man’s devotion to his aunt. He enjoyed hanging out with Logan. They spent a lot of time fishing at that same inlet where Mr. Hawkins’ body had been discovered. The two even surfed together. Yes, he valued his connection with both aunt and nephew. He sincerely hoped that today's events would not dampen their enjoyment of Logan’s summer vacation this year.
Logan answered the door and invited Jason in. Initially, they had planned to go surfing that afternoon, but neither was in the mood after this morning. Melissa was busy in the kitchen preparing a mini-feast. Cooking helped soothe her nerves. Although a brilliant baker, especially of fine artisan breads, cooking regular every-day meals was not her forte. Fancy French cuisine, including escargot or pate, were the rock star menu items of her kitchen. Unfortunately, Logan wouldn’t touch the stuff. During the summer she tried to fix him ordinary, traditional meals. Tonight’s menu included fried chicken and home fries. However, as evidenced by the rancid burnt smell emanating from the kitchen, her attempt at southern cuisine was a failure. Jason joked to the young man, “Looking like pizza again, huh?” Cracking a smile for the first time that afternoon, he laughed.
“Logan,” Melissa called from the kitchen, “Can you open the windows in there? Maybe the deck doors, too?” as smoke spewed from the double oven. Cursing to herself, she managed to extract the offending dish with insulated oven mitts and threw it into the stainless steel sink where the sizzling sound was heard throughout the house.
To get out of the smoke filled house, the three retreated to the back deck. Jason couldn’t help but laugh at the exasperated look on Melissa’s face. Logan joined in, too. “Aunt Mel, seriously you should stick to baking,” Logan stated in between laughter. Throwing her kitchen towel at him, she rolled her big hazel eyes as the hilarity of the situation hit her, too. Just then, a neighbor called out to them to ask if they needed him to call 911 for the fire department. Logan responded, “No thanks, Mr. Menkin! We got it covered. Just Aunt Mel’s cooking again.”
After the smoke cleared, Jason called for pizza delivery. The trio enjoyed their pepperoni and jalapeno pepper pizza on the deck as they listened to the not-too-distant sound of waves crashing on the beach a few blocks away. After finishing his last slice, they decided to take a stroll on the beach. Walking hand in hand, Melissa and Jason lagged behind Logan who was skipping sea shells along the shore. She turned a concerned face to the tall, handsome detective to ask how the rest of h
is day had been after the discovery of Mr. Hawkins. “Actually, it has been quite an unusual day,” he began. “Everything appears as though he died of natural causes, but my partner’s gut instinct made him stir up some trouble.” Laughing somewhat, he explained, “Cory bagged and tagged over a dozen dead birds from the scene as evidence.”
Confused, Melissa asked the evident question, “Why?” Jason didn’t have an answer and didn’t think Cory had one either. Something about the birds made the younger detective uneasy so he brought them in. Jason had complained on a number of occasions about the younger man’s aggressive, ambitious attitude. He was always making more out of something than was there. Jason was used to it, although it was getting annoying. Just a couple months ago, the young cop had insisted that they should’ve arrested the underage driver they caught on a routine traffic stop. The driver in question had smelled a bit of alcohol, but Cory wanted to search the vehicle for drugs. The teenage kid was known as a bit of a partier, but considering his mom worked as a drug counselor for the county, Jason hadn’t seen anything wrong with just calling the kid’s mom and issuing the boy a citation. There had been no reason to “make a mountain out of a molehill”.
Jason further explained that Cory was pushing for an autopsy of Mr. Hawkins. Since there was nothing to suggest foul play, they needed permission from Mrs. Hawkins. The distraught widow had been adamantly against it. Without her approval, the young detective still insisted on pursuing the possibility that this was a homicide. Jason admitted the kid had good instincts, but he really thought he was off on this one. They were scheduled to meet with the chief in the morning to figure out how they would write this one up – death by natural causes or possible homicide.
Sage Advice to Cover Up a Murder! (Outer Banks Baker Mystery Series Book 2) Page 1