South Cove, California, is celebrating St. Patrick's Day — and there's going to be a parade of suspects...
Jill Gardner's store, Coffee, Books, and More, is raking in the green as her little coastal town holds a big festival for St. Patrick's Day. But the locals aren't exactly feeling the luck of the Irish, thanks to the rowdy behavior of some of the tourists who are pouring in.
Then a woman who just visited Jill's shop is found dead near the shore. The fireworks display on the beach may have already happened, but the real fireworks have just begun....
Release date:
February 5, 2019
Publisher:
Lyrical Press
Print pages:
56
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If you study the calendar, you can find a holiday to celebrate almost every day of the week. National Take a Walk in the Park Day, National Hot Dog Day, or, one of my favorites, National I Am in Control Day. With my Aunt Jackie convinced that I need to be told what to do on most days, at least one day a year I can pretend my life is my own.
Our local marketing maven, Darla Taylor, not only ran South Cove Winery but kept us up on the many different reasons to celebrate a day or hold a sale. Darla was also a reporter for the town newspaper. The girl kept busy.
Today’s event had been in the planning stages for several months. For the first time, South Cove, California, was donning the green and going all in for St. Patrick’s Day. The calendar had been gracious enough to land March 17 on a Saturday, so we had had a parade this morning as well as a full day of activities that started at the Castle and ran all the way down to the beach.
Fireworks were scheduled for tonight, just after dusk. Although as drunk as people were already, I doubted many of the out-of-town crowd would be awake for the spectacle. Everyone was working a double shift at my coffee shop and bookstore, Coffee, Books, and More. We’d close the shop down at six, and then the team was invited to my house for dinner and to watch the fireworks on my front lawn at eight. I live on the outskirts of South Cove, less than a quarter mile from the beach. Toby Killian, my part-time barista, and Greg King, my boyfriend, would be at the house for their dinner break, but then, as two of South Cove’s finest, they’d have to go back out to protect and serve.
Greg had brought in more officers from Bakerstown for the day. The cost had been a point of contention between him and Mayor Baylor, but the city council had agreed with Greg and decided it was better to be safe than sorry. I think the mayor must have had other plans for that part of the budget. But then again, doesn’t he always?
I guess I should introduce myself since I’ve gone on blathering for a while now. I’m Jill Gardner, owner and sometimes manager of Coffee, Books, and More—when my aunt lets me manage, that is. We’re the only coffee house in South Cove. Diamond Lille’s is the diner down the street, and although Lille does serve breakfast, I stay in my lane of coffee, drinks, and delectable desserts from Sadie Michael’s Pies on the Fly. Sadie’s one of my best friends as well as my cheesecake supplier. South Cove has been my home now for close to eight years, and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Even on days like this.
“Can I get a double shot mocha?” A tall blonde stood at the counter. Dressed in a green bikini top, Daisy Duke shorts, and a green plaid flannel shirt that ended at the edge of her shorts, she looked like a typical California twentysomething. Except for the green sparkling shamrock tiara on top of her head. She swayed a bit, which told me she’d been one of the ones drinking throughout the celebration. At least she had had the good sense to try to sober up since it wasn’t even eleven in the morning.
“Sure.” I glanced at the group standing near the best-sellers table, where she’d been a few minutes ago. “Can I get you something to eat?”
“No, we’re going to that diner down the road for lunch in a while. I hear they have corned beef and cabbage today. My mom used to make that when I was a kid.” The girl smiled, and I could see the sadness in her eyes. “My dad still tries, but since she’s been gone, I haven’t been home for a St. Patrick’s Day. It’s hard, you know.”
I knew how hard it was to lose a mother, but the shop was packed, and I didn’t have time to go into a full counseling session with a customer. “Yeah, it’s hard. So, no cookies or cheesecake? Your stomach might thank you for the food sooner than later.”
“You’re so sweet. But no, I’m okay.” She glanced back at the foursome waiting for her. One of the men frowned and tapped his watch. She only laughed then called back over the din in the crowded shop. “Hold your horses, Moon. I’m almost ready.”
“Hurry up. I want to check out the bar across the street. The Watering Hole, what a cute name, right?” The other woman in the group called out. “Besides, it’s St. Patrick’s Day. You’re supposed to be drinking green beer, not coffee.”
I smiled as I rang up the purchase and had her swipe her credit card. “I think some people have been drinking a little too much of the green beer.”
“That’s just Carla. She doesn’t get out much so she’s really not housebroken.” The young woman held out her hand for the cup. “I’m Alana McDaniel. Doesn’t get much more Irish than that, now does it. My mother and father were first-generation Americans. They said they fell in love at the church where they attended Mass every Sunday as kids. I’m probably going to have to marry some guy I meet at an Irish bar. Or Moon over there. He’s not Irish, but he’s going to be an attorney and comes from a wealthy family. I guess Dad’s going to have to be happy with that.”
I handed her the drink I’d just finished. “Nice to meet you, Alana. I’m Jill. Come back sometime, and I’ll treat you to the chees. . .
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