The Bookstore at Holiday Bay: Once Upon a Clue

Book 4: The Bookstore at Holiday Bay

by Kathi Daley

Genres: Animal Cozy Mysteries; Culinary Cozy Mysteries; Amateur Sleuth; Female Sleuths

Synopsis

When Lou Prescott bought the bookstore at Holiday Bay, she wanted it to be so much more than a quaint seaside business. She wanted it to be home to the cozy gathering of friends, she knew in her heart, would come together to share their lives, their hardships, and their victories.

In book 4 in the series, Lou receives a package, that by all appearances, seems to contain clues without a mystery. She is stumped as to how to proceed, so she enlists the help of the Tuesday night sleuthing group, who she hopes, will be able to help her tountangle the backwards puzzle she'd been handed.

 

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Release date: April 23, 2024

Publisher: Kathi Daley Books

Print pages: 192

Reader says this book is...: entertaining story (1)

Sample

Chapter 1

“Lou Prescott?” a man dressed in a US Postal Service uniform asked after entering the
bookstore I owned and operated.
“I’m Lou. How can I help you?”
The man handed me a box, which had been wrapped in butcher paper and then tied like a gift
with heavy brown string.
“Is Thomas off today?” I asked the mail carrier I didn’t recognize and assumed was a
substitute.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m filling in for him.”
I smiled at the man, who looked to be in his mid-forties. “Well, thank you for bringing the
package in rather than leaving a notice for me to go and pick it up.”
“It was no bother, ma’am. Now, you have a nice day.”
As the friendly man turned to leave, I noticed him glance at a woman sitting on one of the
sofas in the cat lounge. There was a brief hesitation, followed by a flash in his eyes of something
I couldn’t quite define. Worry? Fear? Grief? I was about to ask him if he knew the woman when
he stepped toward the door leading out to the sidewalk and then hurried down the block.
Once the postal worker disappeared from sight, I picked the box up and turned it over a few
times, looking for a clue that would identify the sender. The package wasn’t all that heavy, but
the contents rattled and shifted when shaken, so I could tell it contained more than a single item.
I had to admit that the delivery with no return address or other form of identification had piqued
my curiosity.
“What do you have there?” My friend and business partner, Velma Crawford, asked as I
stood at the counter looking at the box I’d yet to open.
“I’m not sure. The postal carrier filling in for Thomas brought it by, but there isn’t a return
address.” I held the box up to my ear and gave it a shake. “I wonder what it is.”
“I guess if you want to find out what’s inside, you can open it,” Velma suggested.
I smiled at the woman. “I guess I can. Of course, there is something to be said for savoring
the anticipation.” I plucked a pair of scissors out of the drawer. After cutting the string, I slid one
sharp edge of the scissors along the tape. Once the box was accessible, I opened the flaps and
looked inside.
The box contained a wide variety of items, which, at first glance, didn’t seem to go together.
A pink scarf, a paper menu from a local diner Velma assured me had been out of business for at
least forty years, a Kennedy half dollar dated nineteen seventy-four, a class ring from the local
high school with seventy-four stamped on the side, a forty-five RPM record of the song Show

and Tell by Al Wilson, and a local newspaper dated May twenty-fifth, nineteen seventy-four. The
most attention-grabbing item in the box was a large butcher knife such as the sort you’d use to
cut up a roast or stab your neighbor. The knife had been wrapped in a rag that appeared to have
been torn from a bed sheet. It would have been an ordinary-looking knife if not for the fact that it
was stained with something red, probably dried blood.
“So what do you make of this?” I asked Velma.
“It looks like someone assembled a box of evidence that might provide clues to a crime.” She
picked the knife up. “Likely a murder.” She leaned over to take a closer look at the contents. “I
sense that nineteen seventy-four is key here. Is there a note or anything?”
“I’m not sure.” I took everything out of the box and found a handwritten note that appeared
to have been penned recently.
“What does it say?” Velma asked.
I read it aloud. You have the clues; now solve the crime.
“What crime?” Velma asked.
I shrugged. “No idea. I’m going to assume these items were assembled by someone back in
the seventies, nineteen seventy-four, to be specific.”
Velma frowned. “Okay, say there was a murder in the seventies, and say that someone knew
something about the murder, and they assembled a box of clues which they felt might be able to
help them make sense of the whole thing. Maybe the clues were assembled by a police officer or
a local PI. If the individual entrusted with the box of clues wasn’t successful in solving what I
am going to assume must have been a murder, then maybe this individual eventually gave up and
stored the box somewhere.”
“And now this individual has gotten on in age and realizes they are looking at their final
years on this earth, so they dig the box out and decide to pass it along to someone who might
have better luck than they had,” I said. “Not that I would consider myself to be an elite detective,
but we do have the Murder on Tuesdays group to bring in on this. Maybe the intent of the
individual who sent the box was that I bring the items in the box to the group and let them do
what they do best.”
Velma didn’t look entirely convinced of my logic, but she agreed that taking the items to the
group seemed to be the best idea. Today was Tuesday, as it turned out, so perhaps whoever sent
the package had hoped it would be delivered today.
“It would help if we knew something about the case we are supposed to solve,” Velma said.
“Maybe there’s something in the newspaper which will point us in a direction,” I suggested. I
opened the newspaper and searched for an announcement of a murder, natural death, missing
person, or anything that might constitute a mystery, but, at least on the surface, there was nothing
to find.
“I’ll call Joel and give him a heads up,” I offered. Joel Stafford was the group’s leader, so
he’d likely be the person who would take the lead on this particular investigation.
“I ran into Joel out at Abby’s place over the weekend, and he told me that George was going
to be in town this week and would likely attend the Tuesday night meeting,” Velma informed me,

referring to Abby Sullivan, who owned the Inn at Holiday Bay and George Baxter, who was a
good friend of Joel’s and a mystery buff who ran his own group on Gull Island in South Carolina
and often leased one of Abby’s cottages for an extended stay.
“I’ll be sure to ask Joel to bring him along,” I replied. “I know Beck is planning to attend
since we had dinner over the weekend, and he mentioned the meeting.” Beck Cage was a local PI
I’d been spending time with on a casual basis for a while now. “At this point, we might want to
limit the invites to Joel, Beck, Royce, George, Savannah, you, and me,” I suggested. “Joel has
been a good sport about Eden and the younger girls joining in occasionally, but I know he’d
prefer to keep the group small.”
“I agree,” Velma said. “Royce said much the same thing to me after the last case we opened
up to guest members. Not that the man I married doesn’t love those girls like they were his own
daughters, and while Eden is quite calm, quiet, and helpful, if we include her, then you know
Cricket and Nikki will want in.”
“I agree with your assessment of the situation. I love Cricket and Nikki, but those women
really do have the gift of gab.”
Cricket Abernathy owned the local flower shop with her sister, Marnie Abernathy, and Nikki
Peyton worked at the Bistro at Holiday Bay. Nikki was also good friends with my employees,
Eden Halliwell and Joy Christenson, as well as two other friends, Haven Hanson and Lucy
Lansing. All the young women in this group were fantastic people who I cared about deeply, but
there was something to be said about keeping the murder group small, at least most of the time.
“As long as we’re discussing book clubs,” Velma said. “I was speaking to Astoria this
morning, and she wondered if we could move the start time for the Wednesday night group
tomorrow back an hour. I guess one of her sales reps will be in town, but he wasn’t available to
stop by her place until later in the day, and she was afraid she wouldn’t have completed her
meeting until around seven o’clock.”
“That’s fine with me.” Astoria Walton owned a wine bar just across the courtyard from
Firehouse Books. She, Velma, and I, along with Ethel Covington, the owner of the craft store
next to the bookstore, and Savannah Garrison, a retired university professor and a member of the
Tuesday night group, all met on Wednesdays to discuss whichever book we’d agreed to read, but
truth be told, the group was a lot more about a group of women in their sixties supporting each
other than it was about discussing the book of the week. “I was planning to call Andy and Eli,
order a sandwich, grab the cats, and have my lunch in the bright spring sunshine, so I’ll stop by
and let Astoria know that it’s fine for her to arrive whenever she can get there tomorrow.”
“It is a nice day,” Velma agreed. “I took my coffee break out near the fountain and found
myself so content that it was hard to leave.”
One of my very favorite things about the bookstore and upstairs apartment I bought from my
niece, Vanessa, in addition to the fabulous view of the ocean, is the courtyard that’s shared by
Firehouse Books, A Bit of This and That, the craft store owned by Ethel, All About Bluebells,
the flower shop owned by sisters Marnie and Cricket, Surfside Deli, owned by brothers Andy
and Eli Anderson, and Uncorked, the wine bar owned by Astoria. Those of us who shared this
quaint and cozy outdoor space had become a family.
“The temperature is just about perfect,” I agreed. “Nice and warm, but not too hot.” I
attached a long leash to Toby’s collar. He was a young cat, really no more than a kitten, and he

seemed to like to wander off if offered the opportunity to do so. I didn’t want to risk losing him,
so he was always on the leash when he was outside. My other cat, Houdini, had been on the
street for quite a while before I, along with the rest of the courtyard gang, had adopted him. He
enjoyed the safety of the courtyard and seemed to stay put once he was outside, so he was
allowed to roam freely.
Once the cats were settled in the courtyard, I headed through the double doors of Surfside
Deli. Andy was standing at the counter near the bag with my sandwich and iced tea.
“It sure is a nice day,” he said as I handed him a twenty and waited for him to count out and
hand me my change.
“It is. The cats are already outside, so I can’t stay to chat, but I wouldn’t mind hearing about
your trip if you have time to sit a spell.”
He looked around the otherwise empty deli. “I have time. Being closed for the winter
allowed Eli and me to regain some of the energy we lost over the long summer, but things have
been slow since we returned.”
“I’d be willing to bet that most of your customers simply haven’t heard you’re back. Word
will get around, and things will pick up. And if you decide to close again next winter, your loyal
customers will know the drill.”
He grabbed a soda from the cooler and followed me outside. “I guess.” He sat down at the
table across from me. “I sure have missed this place. And all of you as well,” he added.
“Holiday Bay really is a wonderful place to come home to.” I took a sip of my iced tea. “So
tell me about your trip.”
Andy jumped right in with a series of humorous stories about the trip to Seattle he’d taken
with his brother over the winter months. The brothers had moved to Holiday Bay from Seattle
and still had a lot of friends there, so it was a busy trip home to catch up with everyone. By the
time he’d come full circle and was describing the horror of their flight home, given the
cancellations and multiple delays, I’d eaten my sandwich and was ready to head back inside.
“Hey, all,” Cricket said as she stepped onto the brick patio holding a soda. “I saw you were
out here and wanted to join you, but then a series of customers came in, and Marnie asked me to
stay and help. What’d I miss?”
“I was just telling Lou about the trip Eli and I took to the West Coast,” Andy answered.
“Was it as wonderful as Eli made it sound when I chatted with him about it?”
I’d heard the story and needed to get back inside, so I excused myself even though it did feel
a bit like I was leaving Andy to the wolves. Of course, the brothers seemed to enjoy the company
of the southern sisters, so I was sure he’d be okay without me. I remembered that I’d volunteered
to stop by and speak to Astoria about tomorrow’s book club, so I headed toward Uncorked.
“Something smells good,” I told Astoria after entering the building through the front door.
Uncorked was a cozy place with comfortable seating areas, rustic paneling, live plants, and a
trickling fountain that provided a natural melody to the room.
“I’m trying different scented candles. The candles I chose yesterday were too strong, and I
felt they interfered with the wine tastings, but I like the subtle earthy scent I’m trying today.”

“It’s nice. Very gentle. In fact, you barely notice it, although if I inhale deeply enough, I can
almost picture the damp earth of a freshly turned vineyard after a gentle rain.” I walked over to
the counter where Astoria was unboxing a shipment of wine and picked a bottle up. “This is
new.”
“I’m trying out a new vintner. I’ll bring a couple of bottles to the meeting tomorrow night.
Did Velma pass on the message about changing our start time since I might be late?”
“She did, and don’t worry about arriving late. We’ll get together as planned, and you can get
there when you can.”
“I appreciate that. I may be able to get there sooner rather than later, but the particular sales
rep I’m meeting with tends to be a talker, although he’s also a really nice guy.”
“I imagine selling wine might be an interesting way to earn a living,” I commented. “Your
sales reps seem to have large territories, which allow them to travel to an extent. I suppose being
a sales rep with a bag full of wine to taste and peddle, you’d probably meet lots of interesting
people. And, of course, the best part, in my mind, would be the daily opportunity for tastings.”
Astoria nodded. “It does seem as if the job would be an interesting one. I have one sales rep
who flies all over the world selling wine for a vineyard in France. He comes in every three
months or so, and when he’s here, he always has a lot of interesting stories to tell. It would
probably be hard to settle down if that was your goal, but the job would be ideal if you liked
being on your own.”
“Yes, I guess it would be.”
“So I have news,” Astoria said. “I was going to bring this up with the gals tomorrow night,
but I really feel as if I need to talk to someone about my decision before I burst.”
“What decision?” I asked.
“I’ve decided to give notice on my little one-bedroom house in town and buy one of those
condos in that new development down by Shell Beach.”
I raised a brow. “That’s a very nice complex, but it’s a lot longer commute to and from work
than your current place.”
“Yes, I have considered that and have thought about the pros and cons quite a lot. In fact, I’ve
gone over things in my mind so many times that I can’t decide if I’m coming or going. But I feel
stagnant. I really need something to restart my life.”
I understood feeling like life as you’d once known it had been paused since it hadn’t been
that long ago when I’d felt that way myself. When Gus first passed away, I found myself bogged
down in a hollow state of existence I could only define as limbo.
“After Gus passed away, I felt that way myself before deciding to move to Holiday Bay, so I
get it,” I said.
“I knew you would understand how difficult it is to watch the life you once had fade away
while the new life you’re hoping to build continues to be mired down in inactivity and
indecision. It can cause you to feel stuck all around.”

I nodded. “I do remember feeling that way. After Gus passed, the life we’d built together no
longer worked. Yet, at the same time, the life I’d been trying to create to replace my old
paradigm didn’t seem to fit quite right either.”
Astoria nodded and continued. “My ex has remarried. My children have moved on and have
chosen not to include me in their lives. The friends I used to consider family no longer seem
interested in staying in touch now that I’m no longer one-half of Jameson and Astoria. I have my
wine bar, and I’ve made new friends here in Holiday Bay, but I still feel somewhat adrift. Don’t
get me wrong, my little house is fine. It’s an adequate size and conveniently close to work, but it
isn’t mine. It’s really nothing more than a space I’m borrowing, but I think having my own
space, where I’m free to do what I want, will be good for me. The commute is longer, but the
view will make getting up half an hour earlier in the morning worth it.”
“The condominium complex is situated on an exceptional piece of the coastline,” I agreed.
“Have you already found a unit?”
“I have. I signed the paperwork this morning. It’s a three-bedroom unit toward the center of
the complex. Like all the condos in the complex, it enjoys an oceanfront view, and all the
exterior maintenance is covered by the HOA fees, so I don’t need to worry about blowing or
shoveling snow or mowing my lawn.”
“It does sound like an ideal setup,” I said. “And three bedrooms will be nice if your children
do visit.”
“They won’t. But I wanted to have an office where I could take care of ordering and
paperwork without needing to go into town. I suppose a guest room would be nice, although I’m
not sure I’d ever use it. Maybe a workout room.”
It was sad how sure Astoria was that her children would never come to see her new place. “I
can’t wait to see it,” I said when other, more meaningful words simply didn’t present themselves.
“I haven’t been in any of the units, but I’ve seen photos, and they do seem lovely.”
“Maybe we can take a drive out there this week. Maybe one evening. I want to go back and
take some measurements so I can go ahead and order a few things I’m going to need, like a new
living room set. The woman selling the units as they’re being built lives in the complex, so she’s
pretty flexible when it comes to allowing prospective and new owners on the property to look
around.”
“I’d love to. I have the Tuesday night group tonight, the Senior Women’s Group tomorrow,
and then the Thursday evening book club, but perhaps this weekend.”
“That would be great. It’s much more fun when you have someone to share this sort of thing
with. My relationship wasn’t a good one there at the end, and there isn’t a lot I miss about being
married, but having someone to share your highs and lows with is probably the thing I miss the
most.”
I understood that. There was something special about having someone with whom you could
share the significant moments of your life.
Once I returned to work, Eden asked if she could take a break. I assured her that was okay
and mentioned that I’d left the cats with Andy and Cricket. Since she seemed to be heading
outside, I asked if she’d bring them in when she returned. She assured me she would as she
grabbed her sweater and trotted out to join the others. Eden was quite a bit younger than the

Anderson brothers and Abernathy sisters, but it appeared they fully accepted her as one of their
own.
I noticed the woman who’d wandered in earlier was still sitting in the cat lounge. She had a
large black and white tuxedo cat in her lap, who she appeared to be rhythmically petting, but
other than the slight motion of her hand, she hadn’t moved since she’d first come in and sat
down nearly two hours ago.
“I see you’ve made friends with Tango,” I referred to the cat in her lap.
She looked up at me, offering a blank stare, but didn’t respond.
“He really is a sweetie,” I offered. “Very friendly, and he certainly likes to cuddle.
The woman continued to pet the cat, although it appeared she’d decided to ignore me.
“My name is Lou,” I offered. “Lou Prescott.”
The woman just stared into space. It appeared that she was detached from both the
conversation and her immediate surroundings.
“I’m not sure if we’ve met before, but if we have, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Annie,” she said without looking up.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” I asked the woman.
She lowered her head and continued to pet the cat.
The woman, who looked to be somewhere between her late sixties and mid-seventies, wasn’t
really hurting anything, and she didn’t seem to want to chat, so I decided to leave her alone with
her thoughts. Velma was at the coffee bar with a customer, so I headed to the front counter to
finish sorting the special-order books that Eden had been working on before she left for her
break. I noticed that my good friend, Lacy Parker, had ordered books for her six children, so I
decided to call and let her know that her items had been delivered. Lacy was one of the most
positive and energetic people I’d ever met. In addition to raising six children, she helped at the
school and was frequently involved in community projects. And to top all that off, she owned her
own furniture restoration business that did quite well.
As it turned out, Lacy was having lunch at the Bistro with her best friend, Abby Sullivan,
when I called and assured me she’d be by to pick up the books before she headed home. Setting
them aside, I used my cell phone to call Joel and give him a heads-up about the box I’d received.
I knew he had a dentist appointment this morning since he’d been in yesterday and had
mentioned it, but it was almost one o’clock, so I figured he should be available to talk by now.
“I hope you’re feeling okay after your procedure,” I said to Joel after he answered.
“My mouth is a little sore, but I’m fine.”
“That’s good. The main reason I’m calling is to give you a heads-up about a package the post
office delivered to me today.” I then shared with him what I could about the delivery of the
package and its contents. “I’m really not sure what to make of the items contained within the
box, but it seems at this point that the best idea is to bring the mystery to the group.”

“I agree. It sounds as if you’ve been delivered clues that are in need of a mystery to solve. If
it’s okay with you, I might stop by half an hour or so before the others tonight. I’d like to have a
chance to inventory the items in the box before we pass everything around.”
“That’s fine with me. In fact, I don’t have plans to go anywhere, so feel free to come by
whenever it’s convenient.”
“Thank you. I’ll come by around five-thirty. George is in town and plans to attend, so I’ll
have him pick Savannah up and give her a ride. Her car is in the shop, so I volunteered to bring
her to the meeting tonight, but at the time of the offer, I hadn’t been aware that I was going to
want to come early. I’m sure George won’t mind filling in for me.”
“It’ll be good to see George. It’s been a while since he visited. Is he in town for the
summer?”
“He’s just in town for a couple of weeks this time. He plans to head back to Gull Island to
take care of some business that needs to be attended to, and then he’ll return when Brit does
around the first of July.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing Brit again as well.”
Brit Baxter was George’s niece. Both Brit and George were writers who lived at a writer’s
retreat in South Carolina.
By the time I hung up with Joel, Eden had wandered back in with the cats, so I asked her to
keep an eye on the counter while I settled them in upstairs. I pointed out the books I had set aside
for Lacy and asked her to let me know if she showed up before I came back down. I knew Lacy
was planning a baby shower for our mutual friend, Mylie Slater, and I wanted to ask her about
the decorations I’d volunteered to both provide and set out. The baby shower wasn’t for another
month, but I’d already started thinking about the different sorts of decorations that I might
provide to welcome this new baby boy into our community.
By the time I’d settled the cats in my apartment and made it back downstairs, Lacy was
already at the counter talking to Velma and Eden. I asked her about the decorations, and she
suggested that I keep things simple. Abby and Georgia planned to host the party at the inn, and,
weather permitting, they planned to hold it outdoors. Lacy felt that keeping the shower-specific
decorations to a minimum would be the best idea since the garden area was naturally bright and
colorful due to the hundreds of annuals Mylie’s husband, Jeremy, planted every summer. Tables
would be set up for the buffet, so something small to go with the flowers Marnie and Cricket
were donating would be nice. She suggested that I speak to the sisters and try to come up with
something that would complement the flowers or plants they planned to use, and I agreed with
her suggestion.
“I guess you heard about the animal shelter,” Lacy said once we’d settled on a plan for the
decorations.
“No,” I replied. “What’s going on with the animal shelter?”
“They lost their lease and were only given two weeks to vacate the property. At this point, I
think they’re down to only a few days.”
I frowned. “What do you mean lost their lease? Isn’t the shelter owned by the town?”

Lacy nodded. “Sort of. The town helps fund the shelter, but the land and building are owned
by a private party who, until recently, had leased the property to the town for a dollar a year. The
man who had owned the land for the past thirty years was fine with the arrangement, but then he
passed away, and his son inherited the land and building. When the town approached the son
about the lease, which unfortunately was up for renewal this month, the son told the town that he
had an offer on the land and planned to sell it. I guess this was actually a couple months ago, but
the town manager thought he could work something out with the landowner, so he didn’t do
anything about relocating the animals. And then, out of the blue, the town manager called a
meeting yesterday and told the shelter staff that negotiations had fallen through and that they
needed to vacate by the end of the month. Of course, finding a new place with the land and
infrastructure needed to house an animal shelter isn’t going to be easy, so the staff decided to try
to find foster families to take in all the animals until something more permanent can be
arranged.”
“Wow. It seems like that sort of undertaking will be nearly impossible given the timeline,” I
said.
Lacy agreed. “Shelby has a stack of fliers on her hostess stand asking the public to help. You
get a lot of foot traffic in here, so maybe you can ask Shelby to email you the master, and you
can make copies. Every person who is made aware of this crisis is a potential foster.”
“I’ll call Shelby today. And I’ll run copies for all the businesses in the courtyard to hand
out,” I said. “Do you know how many animals they have to place?”
“I don’t know for sure. I know Hazel offered to use her contacts to try to place the cats and
kittens.” Lacy referred to Hazel Hawthorn, who ran the local cat rescue. “Tanner had an empty
building at his facility and offered to temporarily take eight of their harder-to-place dogs.” Lacy
referred to Tanner Peyton, who trained dogs for service and search and rescue. “Lonnie and I
discussed it and agreed we could take three dogs. We have a fenced yard, and Sadie is good with
other dogs, plus we have six children to help with the feeding and cleanup.” Sadie was Lacy and
Lonnie’s border collie.
“I’ll need to call and speak to Royce about it, but I bet he would agree to foster a couple of
dogs. He tends to get bored at home all day,” Velma offered, referring to her husband.
“That would be great,” Lacy said. “There’s a phone number on the flier for those who can
help to call. At this point, the most urgent thing that needs to happen is to find foster families for
all the dogs and cats. Once the animals are safe, the second task will be to find a new facility.”
“I doubt there’s anywhere in town set up like a kennel other than Tanner’s place,” Eden said.
“That’s true, but I think the plan is to try to find a large building on a large piece of land,
which is located in an area where neighbors won’t be bothered by barking dogs. Once the right
place is found, Lonnie will solicit volunteers to help him put in fencing and indoor kennels.
Finding the right location won’t be easy, so everyone should start looking around. There’s bound
to be something close enough to town so that those wanting to adopt or needing to surrender a
dog or cat won’t have to drive too far to do what they need to do, yet far enough from any
residences so as not to disturb neighbors.”
Velma, Eden, and I promised to keep our eyes and ears open. After Lacy left, I called and
spoke to Shelby, who agreed to email me the master for the flier. Once I had the master, I made

lots of copies and headed out toward the courtyard to make my business neighbors aware of what
was happening and solicit their help.

Chapter 2

When four-thirty rolled around and the woman, who had been sitting in the cat lounge all
day, still hadn’t left or even moved, I decided to try to speak to her once again. The bookstore
closed at five, and I couldn’t very well leave her sitting there after I locked up, so taking some
sort of action was definitely called for.
“I see you’ve met Goldie,” I nodded toward the orange and white cat, who was currently
sitting in her lap. When she didn’t respond, I continued. “I wanted to let you know that the
bookstore is about to close.” When she still didn’t move, I asked if she needed me to call
someone to come and pick her up.
“I’m supposed to wait for Rodney.”
“Rodney?” I asked. “Is that your son? Grandson? Neighbor?”
She looked up but didn’t elaborate. The poor dear seemed confused. I wondered if she might
have had a stroke. Perhaps she needed medical intervention. I supposed that if Rodney didn’t
come for Annie by five o’clock, I could call the police station and see if someone could help me
identify the woman.
“Do you know the address where you are staying?” I asked.
She just looked at me with blank eyes.
“I’m going to call one of my friends, who I believe can help us.”
“Can your friend help me find Rodney?”
“I think he can.”
I called Police Chief Colt Wilder’s cell phone and explained the situation. He agreed that the
woman might need medical attention, so he asked me to allow her to stay where she was until he
could come by and pick her up. He assured me that he’d take her to the hospital and ask them to
evaluate her mental and physical health. If it turned out that she was simply confused but not in
need of immediate medical attention, he’d see if he could help her figure out where she was
supposed to be.

Colt arrived with his second in command, Alex Weston, around five-fifteen. After a brief
conversation with the woman, Colt decided to take her to the hospital as he originally planned. I
thought she might put up a fuss, but she seemed to trust Colt and calmly went with him. Joel
arrived just minutes after Colt and Alex left with my visitor, so I invited him upstairs to look
through the box while I made a sandwich for dinner and then cleaned up a bit in anticipation of
the meeting that evening.
“Based on the clues provided, I feel as if our mystery likely involves a high school student,”
Joel said. “The class ring, the newspaper, and the Kennedy half dollar all point to the year of
importance as being nineteen seventy-four. We’ll need to dig around to see if anything happened
to a local student in nineteen seventy-four and then take it from there.”
“I would agree with that,” I said as I started a pot of coffee. “What I don’t understand,
however, is why now? If there was a murder that occurred fifty years ago, and if the clues in the
box are supposed to help us solve that murder, why now?”
“Maybe the clues don’t lead to a murder,” Joel said.
“The box does include a blood-stained knife,” I pointed out. “Or at least a knife stained with
something that looks a lot like blood.”
“I guess we should call Colt in on this,” Joel suggested. “If nothing else, he will be able to
process the knife. There could even be fingerprints left to find.”
“That’s a good idea, although he likely hasn’t returned to his office yet. He was here just
before you arrived to escort a woman who spent the entire day in my cat lounge to the hospital.”
“Was she injured?” Joel asked.
“Just confused. The woman said her name was Annie and that she was waiting for someone
named Rodney, but no one ever showed up to pick her up, and she didn’t seem to know where
she was supposed to be, so I called Colt.”
“I suppose we can call him later,” Joel suggested.
“I’ll call Alex and ask her to stop by for the knife. She said something about returning to the
office to attend to some paperwork. Right now, I’m going to run upstairs and change my blouse.
If anyone shows up, tell them to help themselves to cookies and coffee.”
By the time I returned to the main floor of my apartment, George had arrived with Savannah.
Joel was showing them the items in the box, and the three group members were offering
suggestions about what each clue might be pointing toward. Beck arrived a few minutes later,
and as the others had, he spent some time going through the box. He asked Joel if we’d called
Colt to look at the knife, and he responded that Colt was tied up at the hospital but that either he
or Alex would stop by when they could to pick it up.
“It appears to me, based on a cursory peek at the clues provided, that the box of items must
have been assembled by the killer, assuming, of course, there was a murder,” Beck said. “I’m not
sure why the killer would send the clues to Lou to share with our group, but since it appears that
whatever happened transpired fifty years ago, perhaps the killer has been struggling with the part
he played and is looking for redemption.”
“If the killer, having reached his golden years, is struggling with guilt, why wouldn’t he just
turn himself over to the police?” Savannah asked.

“Maybe the clues in the box weren’t assembled by the killer, but by someone who knew the
killer and was unable or unwilling to turn him in at the time of the murder,” George offered.
Velma wandered in with Royce and a tray of pastries. She handed the tray to me so I could
transfer the sweet treats to a plate.
Velma joined in the conversation right away. “Earlier, Lou and I were discussing the idea that
the items in the box might have been assembled by someone investigating an event, such as a
murder, who ended up hitting a dead end and eventually gave up. Maybe the box has been sitting
in someone’s attic for years, only to be found by a different someone who wasn’t sure what to do
with their discovery, so they sent the box to us.”
“If the items in the box were selected by anyone other than the killer, how would they know
what to add?” George asked. “I will admit that the knife might have been found with the body,
and if that had been true, it might have been taken into inventory by the individual investigating
the murder, but the other items seem symbolic. It feels as if the person who assembled the box
knew what happened but didn’t want to come forward for some reason, so he or she gathered
items necessary to tell a story.”
Joel placed the box on the floor in front of where he was sitting. “Okay, let’s see if we can
figure out the story these items are trying to share with us.” He held up the class ring. “This
indicates to me that the individual responsible for assembling the box is sharing the story of a
high school student. Someone local who either graduated in nineteen seventy-four or who was
supposed to graduate in seventy-four if we assume the subject of the clues was the victim and
that he or she died before graduation.”
Everyone agreed with the story so far.
He picked up the pink scarf. “This seems to indicate that the subject of the story was female.
The class ring is also the style that a female would have worn.”
Again, everyone agreed. If we were on the right track, it seemed that it would be easy enough
to find out if any female students from the class of seventy-four attending the local high school
died before graduation or possibly shortly after.
Joel held up the Kennedy half dollar. “The date on the coin is nineteen seventy-four, which
seems to provide us with data, but since the class ring already has a date of seventy-four on it, it
seems redundant to me that the coin was added to the box for that purpose.”
“Maybe the victim’s first or last name was Kennedy, or maybe the name Kennedy is
associated with the killer,” Royce offered.
“Perhaps,” Joel agreed. He then held up the forty-five RPM record. “The song the individual
who assembled the items in the box wants us to focus on is Show and Tell by Al Wilson. Since
the song came out in nineteen seventy-four, one could argue that it was included in the box to
loop back around to that date, but in my mind, like the coin, I feel like there’s more to it.”
“The song is about a man in love with a woman who seems to be suffering from major
insecurities,” I said, remembering the song from my youth. “I suppose the killer could be
someone who found themselves involved in a one-sided love affair.”
“Perhaps the love this man felt for the woman was an obsession that led to death,” Velma
suggested.

Joel agreed that unrequited love was as good a motive as any for murder.
“What else is in there?” Savannah asked.
Joel held up the menu. “I’m not sure what the significance of this is. Maybe either the victim
or the killer is linked to this diner. Maybe one or the other worked there, or maybe if the story
that’s being assembled does have to do with a murder that occurred due to unrequited love, the
couple had dined at the diner before whatever happened occurred.”
“What about the newspaper?” I asked. “My first instinct was that the newspaper held the key,
but I didn’t notice any stories about a death or missing person.”
Joel set the newspaper aside. “We’ll take a closer look at this later.”
“Other than the note, is that all that was in the box?” George asked.
“It is,” Joel confirmed.
Beck pulled his laptop out of his shoulder bag. He opened the lid and logged in. I wasn’t sure
what he was doing, but I supposed he might have had an idea that he wanted to check out.
“May twenty-fifth, nineteen seventy-four, was a Saturday, just a week before graduation,”
Beck informed the group.
“Prom,” I said.
Beck typed in a few more commands and then nodded. “Yes. It was prom. Joel didn’t notice
anything that really stood out in the newspaper that was included in the box, but if you log onto
the local archive and select Monday. May twenty-seventh, which would have been the next
newspaper to be published after the one in the box since there wasn’t a Sunday paper, you will
see that four teens died in a fiery car crash on their way home from a prom after party.”
While that sounded like something that could be relevant, if looked at closely, it didn’t really
fit. “Okay, say that whatever is going on is related to the items in this box,” I said. “How? By all
appearances, the items in the box lead to death by stabbing.”
Everyone agreed that they’d had much the same thought.
“I’m not sure that the accident is related to the items in the box, but it did seem to be
something worth noting,” Beck said. “According to this article, four teens died in that crash. The
driver was a senior from Holiday Bay High named Christopher David, and his date was a senior
named Melanie Jeffries. Christopher’s best friend, William Joseph, and his date, Crystal Dawn,
were in the backseat.”
“Was the accident a single-car accident?” I asked.
He nodded. “According to this, while there were no witnesses to say what happened, it did
appear that the driver just swerved, hit a tree, and rolled down an embankment. There was a leak
in the gas tank, which led to a fire that burned the occupants of the car beyond recognition.”
“If the bodies in the vehicle were burned beyond recognition, how were they able to identify
them?” I asked. “They didn’t have DNA testing back then.”
Beck answered. “It appears the police assigned the identity of the victims based on a
comparison of the students who never made it home on the night of the accident, combined with
the recollection of students who had been at the party.”

I supposed the police would have been able to piece together a logical scenario based on
witnesses who’d seen specific classmates leaving the party with Christopher David, the driver of
the car.
“Okay, so what exactly do we think is going on?” Royce asked. “I’m not sure what the point
of assembling a box of clues might be if the subject of the clues was killed in an auto accident.
There must have been more going on that night. Perhaps the accident wasn’t really an accident.
Perhaps someone ran those teens off the road. Someone may have even started the fire once the
vehicle settled, or in the event that it was a gas leak that ignited the fire, an accelerant may have
been added by someone who wanted to be sure those teens were dead and that any evidence that
might have been provided by the car as to the source of the accident was eliminated.”
“I feel as if the fact that this horrific accident occurred on the same night as the date of the
newspaper in the box might be pulling us out of focus,” Beck said. “The knife in the box does
seem to indicate that someone was stabbed.”
I glanced at my watch. “I thought Alex would be here by now.”
“Alex is here,” she said as she entered my upstairs apartment from the bookstore below. “I’m
sorry that took so long. I would have been done a lot sooner if not for all the phone calls.”
I offered her a cup of coffee, which she accepted. Savannah scooted over, and Alex joined
her on the sofa.
“So you have a possible murder weapon you need to have processed.”
Joel handed Alex the knife, still wrapped in the same rag I’d found it wrapped in when the
box had been opened. Joel shared the facts surrounding the box, or at least the facts as we knew
them, and then asked for her help processing the weapon for fingerprints and blood residue. At
this point, we weren’t really sure the blood on the knife was actually blood, and even if it was,
we had no way of knowing if it was human blood.
“There must be police reports dating back to nineteen seventy-four,” I said.
“There are,” Alex agreed.
“Maybe you can take a look around. See if there’s a report related to the auto accident Beck
found in the newspaper archives, and see if there are reports about anything else that might have
been happening around that date.”
“I can do that,” she agreed. “Tomorrow. Right now, Leo, Fisher, and Coop are waiting for me
to show up for a late dinner, and I don’t want to keep them any longer than I already have.” Alex
referred to Leo Atwell, the man she’d been dating, his chocolate lab, Fisher, and her golden
retriever emotional support dog, Coop, who was trained to comfort trauma victims.
“I understand,” I said. “But before you go, I’d like to know what happened with Annie.”
“Colt asked to have her admitted so that they can do a full medical workup. The poor thing
does seem to be confused. I had the feeling that not only did Annie have no idea where she was
supposed to go, but she likewise didn’t seem to remember how she ended up in your cat lounge.”
“So are they keeping her at least through tomorrow?”
Alex nodded. “They are. She’s safe, and she’s comfortable. At this point, I think Colt’s plan
is simply to find out what, if anything, the doctor finds and then take it from there.”

“I’ll call Colt in the morning,” I said.
Alex agreed that was the best plan at this point.
We all thanked Alex for taking the time to stop by, and Joel promised to call her the
following day to find out what, if anything, she may have found out about the knife.
After Alex left, we all agreed to take a break. Savannah headed toward the bathroom, Velma
seemed intent on refreshing the pastries tray, the guys got up and walked over to the window that
provided a view of the sea, and I headed to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee. It was a
gorgeous night, with a full moon peering down on the calm sea. The weather had been
exceptional as of late, and I had to admit that I was enjoying the clear skies that seemed to have
replaced the gloom of the stormy skies of winter.
When the meeting resumed, the topic of conversation seemed to have navigated to the animal
shelter and the crisis the staff was facing. In my opinion, the town could have handled things
better than they had. Even if only a slight chance existed that the shelter could lose its lease, the
town manager, the mayor, or someone else should have given the folks at the shelter a lot longer
than a two-week notice.
Velma had spoken to Hazel, who thought she would most likely be able to find fosters for all
the cats and kittens. There were more dogs than cats to place, and finding dog fosters seemed
considerably difficult compared to finding cat fosters, so it appeared that the folks at the shelter
would be pretty busy. I didn’t have room to take in a dog since I already had two cats in my tiny
apartment, plus the four cats Hazel assigned to the cat lounge each week, so I didn’t feel I could
commit to additional animals, but perhaps I could help in other ways. I supposed I’d stop by the
shelter the following day and check it out.
Once the subject of the shelter was exhausted, Joel decided it was time to adjourn for today.
He commented about needing time to look into a few things and indicated he wanted to meet
again before our regular meeting the following week. Velma and I were the only two in the group
with jobs to work around, and the two of us could usually take a break, so I suggested that
anyone with the time and interest might want to meet for lunch in the courtyard the following
day. Joel pointed out that a lunch meeting in the courtyard was bound to attract a lot of attention
from our friends with businesses in the courtyard, so in the end, it was decided that we’d meet at
Velma and Royce’s house, where we would be assured of having the privacy we needed. I
figured as long as it wasn’t too busy the following day, Eden could hold down the fort while
Velma and I took a long lunch to meet with the others. If it was busy, I’d stay with Eden, and
Velma could catch me up once she returned.
“Interesting mystery,” Beck said after the others had left and I’d traded our coffee cups for
wine glasses.
“It is an interesting mystery. I think this is the first time I’ve started with the clues and then
had to work backward to find the mystery they lead to.”
“I’ve been thinking about the source of the box. Knowing who sent it to you might provide a
clue as to what is going on.”
“The package had no return address or postmark, which makes me think that the man who
delivered it to me may have been the one who decided to turn the contents over to me. The thing
is, he said he was subbing for Thomas, and he was wearing an official US Postal Service

uniform. I don’t know why a postal worker would be delivering a package without a postmark,
but it occurred to me that I should probably head to the post office in the morning and see if
anyone knows anything.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask.” He took a sip of his wine. “I wanted to ask you about
Sunday before I forget.”
“Sunday?” I asked.
“I thought we might do something if you aren’t busy.”
I nodded. “I’d like that. What did you have in mind?”
“I’m open to ideas, but the weather has been so nice that I was thinking about doing
something outdoors. Maybe we could hike up to Big Meadow. We could bring some food and
have a picnic.”
“A hike sounds nice, and I haven’t been to Big Meadow yet. I have heard my customers
talking about how gorgeous the wildflowers are up there at this time of the year.”
“Okay then. It’s a date.”
It’s a date, I thought to myself after Beck said it. The phrase “it’s a date” was a commonly
used phrase that confirmed a get-together between two or more people even if the event wasn’t
date-like in a romantic way. But every time Beck used the term, I couldn’t help but wonder
exactly what he meant. It was true that Beck and I had been spending a lot of time together as of
late, although I wouldn’t go so far as to label what we’d been doing as dating. A dinner here and
a lunch there. All the sorts of outings one did with a friend. But dating?
And if by “it’s a date,” Beck had been hinting at an actual date, was I ready for that? I
glanced at the handsome man who was jabbering on about the river that fed into the sea and the
incredible waterfall that could be found on the north end of Big Meadow. He was a wonderful
man, and we seemed to have a lot in common. I missed my husband terribly, but he was gone,
and I still had a lot of living to do. Having someone like Beck by my side as I explored the
opportunities life still had to offer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. ...