Sunny Side Up (Lake Erie Mysteries Book 1) (4 page)

“Left or right at the intersection?” June hollered over her shoulder to Hamm. She was almost a block ahead of him. I was somewhere in between. “That desk job of yours is doing a number on your legs, counselor! Are your hamstrings getting tight?”

I pretended I didn’t hear her. Hamm ignored the jab, but I could tell he was pumping his pedals a little more vigorously. June rolled her bike to a stop at the intersection and waited for the two of us to catch up. Hamm silently pulled ahead and rounded the corner to the right.

I caught up to him and we rolled along, enjoying the sunshine and warm air for about a quarter of a mile. “What do you think it would be like to live here year-round, Hamm?”

I admired the houses along the street and imagined myself sipping a glass of wine on a patio overlooking the lake, enjoying the tranquility of island life.

“As much as I love coming here every summer,” Hamm replied, “I don’t think either of us has it in us to be isolated in the dead of winter, relying on little airplanes for supplies when the lake freezes over.” He smiled at me and added, “And what would you possibly do when you ran out of wine?”

“Ouch. So much for that idea.”

June hung back a little. She knew she was getting on Hamm’s nerves again, so she amused herself for a while humming the top ten tunes of the eighties.

I was the first to spot the boutique. “Wow! I never knew turquoise sea horses and pink, glass blowfish could look so natural hanging from trees. I have to admit, they give the place a quirky sort of charm.”

June stopped singing abruptly and squealed in delight, slamming her bicycle to a halt right in front of an eight-foot tall ceramic mermaid in the yard holding a sign announcing “Jewel of the Bay” in large, multicolored script. This place was right up her alley. Hamm shuddered and braked his bike well away from the surreal seascape.

I was caught off guard and tumbled right into the middle of them. We were doing our best imitation of a three-ring circus, bike-stacking act just as a flashy Mercedes E350 Cabriolet convertible flew by shooting gravel and dust all over the three of us. It screamed to a stop in front of the store, just inches from Hamm’s back tire.

“Hey, asshole! What the hell is wrong with you?”

That was June. I was still gasping for air, and Hamm was glaring at the back of the driver’s head. There was something oddly familiar about that rakishly tousled sandy hair and broad shoulders. His starched lavender Ralph Lauren shirt looked smart against the lunar blue metallic of the car, but was decidedly out-of-place in this laid-back island setting.

When the rude fellow turned around and flashed his professionally straightened and whitened smile at us, we stopped dead in our tracks and then cried out in unison, “Clifton!”

June was the first to recover. She recognized her ex-husband a split second before Hamm and I did. Funny, how once you realize you know an obnoxious, arrogant person, you become a little more tolerant of his unrefined tendencies. But just a little.

June sprung to the side of the car and stuck her head over the door, just inches from the driver’s face. “What in the name of all things superficial and material are you doing here, Sterling?”

“Well, well, well, it’s great to see you too. How are you, Juniper? Francie, Hamm, glad to see the two of you as well!” Sterling took June’s arm and began to pat it solicitously.

“Really. Why are you here? I know you’re no fan of fresh air, or for that matter, anything having to do with the outdoors or nature.” The arm patting was clearly not working for June, so she shoved his hand off of her bicep and stood about three feet back from the car.

“June, darling, that was harsh. But if you must know, I’m working, actually. Well, mostly.”

I was impressed. If this guy was a professional dancer, he couldn’t have pulled off a better shuffle.

He continued his explanation. “I met a lovely lady while doing a series on local attractions and vacation destinations. Her name is Sirena. She owns this place.”

Talk about a small world. It makes sense, though. Both June and Clifton are journalists of sorts. Clifton is the anchorman for the number-three-rated local network, and is on a mission to achieve star status. He had done some pretty strange things to get his handsome face noticed by the national stations.

Cliff remembered his manners. He exited the vehicle like he was stepping out on a red carpet. He grabbed the linen sports jacket on the front seat, artfully swung it over his shoulder, and swaggered his way over to us. “So, Hamm, aren’t you coming inside? You look a little shaky. Sirena’s got air conditioning.”

“Cliff, my poor husband is shaking because he can’t stand the thought of going into the store. He’s had this reaction before.”

Hamm was allergic to shopping the way Clifton was allergic to trees, grass, pollen, peanuts, and seafood to name just a few.

I was tired of standing around. I needed to see what was beyond the beckoning mermaid. I turned back to speak to June, but she had already slipped inside.

“You two will have to excuse me. I have to help June with her research.”

I gave up on grace and finally threw my bicycle on the top of the heap in the yard while calling out, “Enjoy your visit, boys!”

I left the two men standing by the curb to sort things out in the phantasmic shadow of the giant mermaid and headed into the whimsical shop. June was in the middle of a lively conversation with a most enchanting woman. Even on stage, I had never seen a character like Sirena Divine. I was beginning to wonder if the island suddenly had some magnetic pull, attracting gorgeous new residents.

Sirena was nearly six feet tall. Standing next to June, they were a study in contrasts.  Ms. Divine’s show-stopping copper curls cascaded down her back, well past her tiny waistline. Her alabaster skin was luminous. On an island where people compete for the darkest tan, she looked like a pearl in a basket of acorns. I noticed right away that the mermaid on the front lawn bore a striking resemblance to the proprietor. Her long, iridescent skirt flowed around her ankles in waves of aqua, periwinkle, and seafoam. Bright coral toenails peeked out from glittery sandals. I know because I was seriously looking for a fishtail. Sirena was borderline mythical.

June didn’t seem particularly dazzled by the lady’s ethereal appearance, but she was definitely impressed with her repartee. The two women stood in front of a counter filled with glittering, jewel-toned bottles of essential oils exactly like the bottles I had admired earlier at Ruby’s Treasure Chest. Both of them were waving their hands in animated emphasis. This was starting to look like a debate contest. Finally, June got to the point.

“So, how do you know Sterling, Ms. Divine?”

“Oh, he’s been in here nearly every day since the first of the month.” She seemed quite unaffected by June’s straight-up attitude.  “He’s putting together a piece for his local Sunday morning talk show and seems quite taken with my little store.”

“I don’t think it’s the store that has him mesmerized,” June informed Sirena. “Clifton has an eye for pretty ladies, especially those who would photograph well. Has he asked you yet to do an on-air companion interview? I’m sure he would love to appear beside you on TV.”

Sirena’s eyes narrowed. She absentmindedly picked up a small glass vial from the counter display, took the stopper out and inhaled its fragrance. I wanted to ask her what was in it. Maybe I needed some.

Sirena set the pretty bottle down and picked up where she left off with June. “You seem to know a great deal about Mr. Sterling. Have you two met before?”

“You could say that. I was married to him for two years.”

As if on cue, Clifton strutted through the front door and took in the scene. He never skipped a beat. Putting his arm protectively around Sirena’s waist, he faced June and said, “I see you two are getting acquainted.”

You had to give the guy credit. He had an endless capacity for good-natured charm (or bullshit as the case may be). I almost fell under his spell as he smiled his million-dollar smile at me. But I knew better.

“I can’t convince Hamm to come inside, Francie. He hasn’t changed much, has he?”

I answered him in my head. “Neither have you, Cliff. Neither have you.” I smiled politely, took a quick peek out the front window to make sure Hamm actually was okay, then turned my attention to the pretty seashell serving dishes on the nearest shelf.

Clifton looked at Sirena and then at June. “Let’s all get together later tonight at the Island House. We can catch up over martinis.” He looked at me then and said, “Bring Hamm. There’s no retail, and we can share a nice cigar.”

Once more, I smiled, and once more I answered him in my head. “You mean, bring Hamm so you can mooch one of his good cigars.” In spite of his powers of attraction, the guy rubbed me the wrong way. Being skilled in the performing arts, I merely smiled politely and nodded.

June didn’t seem to hold the same grudge against her former husband. She answered for us all. “We’ll be there around eight. Now if you’ll excuse us, Francie and I are dying to check out the rest of the store.”

Clifton and Sirena took up whispering and giggling like teenagers. They ducked out of sight behind a diaphanous curtain of pearlescent fabric, which I assumed to be a storeroom or an office. I’m sure they had business to attend to. June headed for the back of the store where a sign advertised, “Naughty, Nauti.” Cheesy, for sure, but it got my attention.

We spent the next half hour “researching” the merchandise for June’s article. We perused the shelves and racks, making copious notes on everything we found. There was an array of provocative clothing from pretty to promiscuous, reading material, massage oils, beautifully scented candles in varying sizes, and some mysterious objects I was actually too embarrassed to ask about.

June had left her camera back at the inn, but she used her iPhone to snap pictures of dozens of products and email them to herself. She would have plenty of raw material for article.

“June, I think we’ve about overstayed our welcome, and it’s almost closing time. We better buy something and head back to town.”

I took a last look around and grabbed the most innocuous items I saw: two water rafts each the size of a paperback novel. The label promised: Just add water for a sassy, sea adventure to remember. Whatever that meant. The twins’ birthday was coming up, and I thought they might enjoy some new rafts to float on at the condo pool when they came home for their first summer visit. I figured a person was never too old for a new water toy.

“You must be buying those for your kids, since you can’t swim to save your life, and you sure wouldn’t want to mess up your hair in a swimming pool!”

“Well, June,” I retorted, “at least I don’t own a boat I have no clue how to operate!”

I dug around in my royal blue Coach bag, which I wore cross-body so I could have two free hands for shopping and bike riding. I located Hamm’s platinum Visa card and offered it to Sirena who was back on the sales floor looking a little flushed.

“Thanks so much for stopping by, ladies. It was so nice to meet you both. I guess I’ll see you tonight at the Island House.” She smiled sweetly as she rang up my selections then handed my card and purchases over the counter to me.

I tossed my purchases into my handbag where they sunk to the bottom like rocks in a deep well, and headed out the door to rescue Hammond.

“So what do you think of Cliff’s new girlfriend?” June asked as I took one last look behind me through the front window.

“June, she winked at me! Why did she wink at me?” June and I glanced back through the window only to see Sirena and Clifton nose to nose, giggling again like teenagers on a first date. “She seems nice enough, but isn’t it going to be awkward having dinner with your ex-husband and his new girlfriend?”

June gave a noncommittal shrug. “It doesn’t bother me. Cliff and I still get along just as well as we ever did. That spark burned out almost as soon as the ink on our marriage certificate dried. I just wish it had happened a little sooner so we could have avoided all of the hassle.”

“Yeah, without that spark, as you say, Clifton Sterling becomes a bit less attractive and a lot more like an irresponsible, self-centered child.”

“It is what it is. He can be the mermaid’s problem now. Besides, if the stars are lined up in my favor, maybe there will be some other gorgeous new islander in need of a dinner companion at the restaurant. They seem to be falling from the trees around here.”

We needed to get back to the marina so we could get ready for the evening. I felt bad that we never made it back into town for pizza, so I offered to make snacks when we got back. Cheese and crackers would have to do. Hamm and I parted ways with June at the inn and rode the short distance back to the boat where I threw together a nice combination of cheese, crackers and grapes. I was wishing I had that adorable fish plate from Ruby’s. I might just have to make a return trip.

“Honey, thanks for being so patient today. I know how you feel about shopping. We met some interesting people though, that’s for sure. And how crazy was it running into Clifton Sterling of all people?”

“Definitely weird. But that Morgan seems like an alright guy.”

“I saw you talking to him again after I went into Ruby’s. Did he tell you that he’s a detective?”

“He did mention it, and I was glad he found my lighter. There must be a hole in my pocket or something. Can you pass the cheese?”

“Sure thing.” I popped a grape in my mouth and handed Hamm the cheese plate.

“He did have kind of an interesting request though. He said to let him know if we heard any strange noises or were awakened by a very loud motor in the middle of the night, particularly around 1:00. Apparently, there’s a small boat that’s been coming through the marina late at night. The two people on board use a double-dip hydraulic net to scoop up minnows. I had no idea minnow schools can cover the entire width of the marina. I also had no idea there was a black market for stolen minnows. Apparently, these ‘minnow bandits’ are selling their stolen fish illegally to fishing charter boat captains. The marina employees have been trying unsuccessfully to identify and capture these guys all last season, and they’re back at it already. I told him we’d keep our ears open.”

“Maybe we can help solve a mystery! That would be fun!”

“We don’t need to set up a spy camp or anything, and you probably shouldn’t even mention this to June. She would probably want to turn it into a full-scale, super-sleuth mission. I prefer to just relax and leave the detective work to the detective. He probably needs something to occupy his time, anyway. It must be a big adjustment moving from Chicago to Kelleys Island. I don’t think I could do it.”

“Well, at least the Caddy Shack has really good pizza. It can hold its own against Chicago-style any day!”

“Don’t remind me. I never did get mine today.”

“Oopsie. We’ll put it on our to-do list for tomorrow. I better go get ready for tonight. At least you can order something yummy at the Island House.”

“Yeah, this should be interesting.”

I left Hamm with the cheese plate then and went down to change my clothes for dinner. It was cooling down since the sun was getting lower in the sky, so I chose my black capris, a black-and-white striped tank top and a lightweight white sweater with a hood. Just for fun, I added my red patent-leather flip-flops.

Hamm wouldn’t give up his cargo shorts, but he changed into a cobalt blue Tommy Bahama button-down shirt. June arrived at the boat dock on foot, looking impressive in a white miniskirt and body-hugging navy blue top. She wore a turquoise scarf and turquoise flats that perfectly matched the new color streak in her hair. The turquoise ring on her index finger added a nice finishing touch to her outfit. She bounced on the balls of her feet, practically crackling with energy.

“Let’s walk to the Island House,” I suggested. Frankly, I had had about all I could take of bike riding for the day.

“Fine with me,” June agreed. At least I think that’s what she said. She had managed to hop aboard the boat and zero-in on the snack plate. Her mouth was full of crackers.

Hamm and I strolled leisurely hand-in-hand down Division Street toward the heart of downtown and the charming Island House Restaurant and Martini Bar. It was nice not to be in a hurry tonight. June walked just a few steps behind, stopping frequently to take casual photos with her iPhone. White picket fences surrounding the property wore mantles of purple clematis blooms and gave the setting both charm and a sense of intimacy. It was such a nice evening, I was glad we had agreed to meet the others at the outdoor bar.

“Hey, June...” I was about to tell her about the whole minnow bandit mystery, even though Hamm didn’t think it was a good idea. How could I keep such a bizarre little mystery from my best friend? She had dropped back and was stopped on the side of the road. She bent over, affectionately rubbing the ear of a tall, handsome stranger, who happened to be a German shepherd. Accompanying the friendly dog was an intimidating-looking man. I thought special-ops or sniper, but then, I was always running movie scenarios and play scripts through my mind, and this guy would most definitely have been the darkly handsome, unpredictable star of the show. June was acting like she knew the pair. I hoped so because otherwise she was getting pretty desperate to hook up with someone, and that didn’t seem like her even though I knew she wasn’t looking forward to being the fifth wheel at dinner and watching her ex-husband perform his great-catch act for the benefit of his new love interest.

I later learned that the stranger’s name was Michael (no last name) and his dog answers to Gunner. June had uncovered the mystery behind the man and his dog when she met him last summer while spending some leisure time at the lake in between assignments. Michael spends his days coming and going between the islands, Kelleys, Middle Bass, and South Bass, always walking with his dog in silence, always with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, and always carrying a newspaper tucked under his arm. June couldn’t stand the fact that none of the locals knew much of anything about him, so she pursued him for an entire month, pulling out all the stops, using all of her investigative, journalistic, and flirtatious skills until he finally conceded to sit with her for an informal interview.

She never wrote a feature story or even published an editorial about Michael because for all of her in-depth questioning and expert interviewing skills, the only verifiable information she ever got was his name and the fact that he is ex-military and likes his privacy and his dog. She didn’t think of the time invested as a waste though because first of all, she wasn’t working on a paid assignment, and secondly, she liked him and respected his request to remain private. In the end, June relented, satisfied that at least Gunner had warmed up to her and always stopped for a bit of loving when she encountered him.

After a quick visit, June left the duo and caught up with Hamm and me. I guess he wasn’t going to be June’s dinner partner after all.

It was a little before eight, and although the patio seating was quickly filling up, we were able to secure a spot on the comfy outdoor sectional couch in front of the unique propane fire top table. From our vantage point, we could see both the outdoor bar and the flower-lined street beyond the fence. I made myself comfortable and started to think about which of several specialty martinis I wanted to order when the sound of a dog bark diverted my attention toward the bar. There was Gunner, accepting attention from the hostess and several of the waiters and waitresses. I got the idea that this was a pretty common occurrence since Gunner was already lapping water from a big stainless steel dog bowl. Michael, on the other hand, was standing quietly at the bar alone. It almost seemed like he brought a personal space with him that had a Do Not Enter sign clearly displayed on it.

A waitress came out of the restaurant holding a large, steaming Styrofoam cup of coffee, which she placed in front of him without saying a word. Michael nodded his head and then returned his eyes to the newspaper he was reading. The next time I glanced in his direction, he was holding a red pen in his right hand and his coffee in his left. His attention was still focused downward on his reading material. No one joined him or spoke to him. I could see why June was so intrigued with this dark, handsome, mysterious stranger with the loyal, friendly dog. I tried to picture the two of them as a couple. They were polar opposites, yet it wasn’t that hard to do.

“What are you daydreaming about over there, Francie? Let me guess: chocolate martini versus cosmo.” Hamm raised his hand to get the attention of our waiter. Directing his comment to me, he said, “Since we never did make it to Caddy Shack for pizza, we better order some real food before we start in on drinks. The cheese snacks were good, but it’s time for something more substantial. I know your weakness for chocolate martinis, and I also know what happens if you’re not careful.”

I gave him an appreciative smile. “Well you do have a point. Besides, no one is going to have to twist my arm to make me order something to eat. The hard part will be deciding what to have.”

The seat I had chosen was one facing the street with Hamm to my right and June to my left. I wanted to be next to my husband, of course, but I also needed to be within whispering distance of June so we could get in some good-natured gossip about all of the interesting people we saw walking up and down the main street. You never knew when you would see a pirate with a treasure chest full of candy and small toys, and it was good to be ready to embrace the moment. I caught a tootsie roll that rocketed straight at me and looked up just in time to see the handsome pirate tip his three-cornered hat in my direction before continuing on his merry way up the street.

I tossed the treat into my bag for later and retrieved my purse hook so I didn’t have to place my handbag on the germy ground. I also grabbed my reading glasses just in case one of the twins happened to text or call me. I was realizing more and more how much I missed them. This was the first summer that both of them were away; Ben had gotten an apprenticeship with an architect in Ann Arbor, and Beth had opted to spend her summer volunteering with a children’s theater group in Columbus before continuing her degree in music therapy at Ohio State University. I was starting to understand the day-to-day reality of empty-nest syndrome. Thank goodness for FaceTime. Not that I wasn’t enjoying the new freedom that comes with not having to be the responsible parent all the time. It was definitely an adjustment, but it was one I was quickly learning to embrace.

I was finally all settled when I realized I was famished, and my stomach was seriously growling as the tantalizing scent of exotic seasonings, sautéed onions and grilling meat began to fill the evening air.

We got down to the business of studying the menu. Without even glancing at the offerings, Hamm ordered the calamari appetizer. He gets it every time. The spicy, sweet Thai-version of this dish really is to die for, and it’s not offered in many restaurants in this area.

“I think I’ll go with the coconut shrimp.” It was a hard decision because the lobster mac and cheese was also calling my name. Loud.

There was no hesitation on June’s part whatsoever. She chose a lobster sandwich, which was really two buns, piled high with lobster and a side of clarified butter. Seriously. And this was just the first course. I couldn’t wait to see what she would order for her entrée.

While we waited for our food to arrive, we talked over all of the interesting things that had happened since we arrived. “Bingo!” June shouted, interrupting Hamm’s retelling of his chat with the detective. “Bingo, Bingo, Bingo!”

I looked in the direction of June’s open-mouthed stare. “Bingo” was our code word for something demanding immediate attention. Standing at the bar, in the same spot that Michael had occupied just a moment ago, was an older man dressed entirely in neon orange spandex. On his head, covering his grey dreadlocks, was a pink-and-blue striped stocking hat. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was wearing high heels and sipping a drink topped off with a miniature umbrella. I almost choked.

“Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” I said, once I regained my composure. “People are pretty amazing. You’ve got to love a free spirit!”

Thankfully, just then, our food arrived and we directed our attention to the plates in front of us. My shrimp was prepared with just the right combination of sweetness and crunch, and Hamm was evidently pleased with his choice as always.

June looked up from her decadent selection and smiled. “Don’t underestimate the magical powers of this butter!” I think I gained three pounds just watching her eat it.

We were just finishing up our yummy hors d’oeuvres when Clifton and Sirena arrived. Heads turned. People stared at the beautiful couple. I couldn’t help but think of Jay Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan. Except for the tattoo. Sirena’s low-cut, clingy tank top revealed more than her fabulous figure. An intricately executed scorpion decorated her chest above her heart. Its tail curled provocatively up and to the right. I had no idea where its head was. Sirena seemed oblivious to the attention; Clifton, on the other hand, was basking in it. I seriously thought he might take a bow, or worse yet, make a speech. Thankfully, he did neither. He plopped into the seat across from me, reached across the table, and absent-mindedly popped the last of my shrimp into his mouth. June stopped mid-greeting and stared agape at Clifton.

“Francie, quick! Grab the EpiPen in your purse!”

“What’s the matter?” Sirena was frantically looking from Clifton to June to me. I was rummaging in the bottom of my voluminous handbag, where sure enough, I located the EpiPen I had stashed there months ago in case one of my kids had an allergic reaction to something sometime. How June knew it was in there was beyond me. She grabbed it from my hand and reached across the table to stab the gasping man across from me.

So much for Jay Gatsby. Clifton was furiously scratching the ugly red hives that had blossomed on his cheeks and neck. His lips were swollen and his eyes had all but disappeared. At least he was breathing.