Sage Advice to Cover Up a Murder! (Outer Banks Baker Mystery Series Book 2)
Read Sage Advice to Cover Up a Murder! (Outer Banks Baker Mystery Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Phoebe T. Eggli
Your Free Gift
I wanted to show my appreciation for supporting my work so I’ve put together a Bonus Chapter for you.
Click here for Your Bonus Chapter . . . but don’t read it yet!
Thanks!
Phoebe T. Eggli
Dedicated to my ‘family’.
Not all families are traditional or conventional.
It’s my hope that you have ‘family’ in your life;
and that your life is enriched because of it!
Table of Contents
Sample Chapter from Book 3 of the Outer Banks Baker Mystery Series
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.