Sunny Side Up (Lake Erie Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

By the end of my rendition, June was laughing so hard she snorted. “How have I never heard that one before? I’m glad the kids were okay, but how long were they grounded for that little episode?”

“Let’s just say, the yard looked really nice for the rest of the summer, compliments of Beth and Ben landscaping.”

We arrived at the club around five o’clock. The doublewide trailer that was home to the yacht club, at least for one more year, had gotten a fresh coat of white paint this spring. The giant brass anchor fastened to the front of the clubhouse had been recently shined, and one of the green-thumbed members had planted red and white Impatiens in the freshly mulched beds out front. Hamm and I walked around back to the kitchen entrance so I could drop off my dish of secret-recipe pasta salad, adding it to the assortment of platters and dishes abundant with appetizers, desserts, and salads already covering the counters. While I arranged my plate among the other salads, Hamm scanned all of the tables until he located June’s strawberry rhubarb pie. Relieved, he smiled contentedly and headed out the kitchen door to join a group of friends we hadn’t seen since fall.

The party was gearing up. Fragrant smoke swirled up from the two forty-inch gas grills on the back patio. Red, white, and blue lanterns glowed invitingly above the picnic tables overlooking the beach. Each table had been decorated with sand buckets sporting tiny American flags and patriotic pinwheels twirling in the breeze. I was excited to see one of my favorite summertime bands, the Rolling Hams, was doing its sound check on the patio.

I was glad things worked out the way they had. Yacht club parties were always a good time, and the way the resort kept expanding and adding houses and pools and restaurants, our little club, sitting on a prime piece of beachfront real estate, was most likely on the verge of extinction. Most of the members, like Hamm and I, were determined to enjoy the facilities until we were chased out by bulldozers.

After our trip down memory lane earlier, I was aware of how much I wished our children were here with us this year. It’s hard letting go so they could make their own memories. I hoped they were enjoying their camping trip to Hocking Hills. They had reconnected with some mutual friends from high school and decided to spend a few days together before resuming their separate paths.

“Hey, Francie! Over here!” I looked in the direction of the bar where I instantly spotted June, drink already in hand. In honor of Memorial Day, she wore a sequined red tank top, blue shorts and a headband with a large silver star. On her feet were silver wedge sandals, and her toenails were painted red with little white stars decorating the center of each one. This latest outfit was one for the books, but somehow she always pulled it off. I wondered when she had time to change the streak in her hair from turquoise to royal blue. I must say, it brought out the color of her eyes.

My own patriotic ensemble was of a more classic variety. I chose my navy blue and white-striped maxi skirt, slit up the right side, and a solid navy V-neck top which showed off the curves I had worked on all winter. I was feeling pretty, and the red sandals I had on the night before were going to keep my tootsies cool and comfortable all night. I had twisted my hair into a loose ponytail, letting random strands curl around my face. Silver hoop earrings completed my outfit.

I ordered a glass of red wine at the bar, but before I could compliment June on her fashion sense, my attention was diverted to the big-screen TV inside the clubhouse. A crowd was quickly gathering, and I stretched my neck to see what all the fuss was about. What I saw was Clifton Sterling’s network rival, Linda Langley, delivering a breaking news update.

“The inferno completely destroyed a local family-owned boutique on picturesque Kelleys Island. Fire marshals are investigating the cause of the blaze. We don’t have many details yet, but we will update this story for you as soon as we receive more information. Tune in at eleven.”

Linda flashed her award-winning smile just as images of Ruby’s Treasure Chest—before and after the blaze—appeared on the screen. Seconds later, the newscast blinked forward to the next featured thirty-second disaster. June and I mirrored wide-open eyes and mouths, grabbed our drinks, and made a beeline for the bathroom to process this shocking news.

“We were just there! Poor Ruby! Poor Roger! What does all this mean? I can’t imagine who could have done this. Do you think it was an accident?”

We sucked in air at the same time and stood staring at one another in the new silence.

June took a deep breath before asking, “Do you think Hamm knows something? Did he say anything to you last night? He must know something. Why else would he have been acting so strangely last night?”

My mind was reeling. I remembered my husband’s torn, dirty clothes; that smoky, sweet odor that clung to him; and his strange behavior. His explanation for all of these things had to be the truth. I believed him, of course, but so much was happening so quickly I was having difficulty processing everything.

“Come on, Francie. Let’s go back outside.” June’s warm, steady hand was on my elbow, guiding me out the door and back to the party where everything looked natural and unexceptional.

I scanned the crowd for Hamm, trying to ignore the sense of dread rising like a yeasty loaf in my stomach. I needed to see him, put my arms around him, look into his eyes. I really needed to talk to him.

“There he is, June. I need to find out what’s going on. Stay here.”

“No way I’m standing by and missing the scoop. No way! Let’s go.”

Hamm was on the beach, staring across the water in the direction of Kelleys Island. He looked like a stone statue silhouetted against the marble sky. Detective Morgan was walking toward him. June and I made our way through the crowd of friends and club acquaintances who were busy trying to get the scoop on the fire. Snippets of theories and speculations brushed by us as we kept our course toward the two men.

I was about to call out a greeting as soon as we cleared the party but changed my mind and held my tongue when I heard Morgan’s voice.

“I’ll stay in touch. Don’t make any plans to leave town for a while.”

Hamm appeared calm and relaxed when Morgan turned back toward him. “Hey, do you happen to have a light? This time I saved my daily indulgence for tonight.”  He casually pointed a cigar in Hamm’s direction.

“Sorry, Jack, my lighter went missing some time last night, probably when we were at the Island House. Seems like I’ve had problems holding on to that thing lately.”

Morgan narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He stood for a few seconds without moving, then turned back toward the club and walked in our direction. We weren’t exactly spying, or even eavesdropping, but somehow I felt like we’d been caught red-handed.

“Good evening ladies. It’s a great night for a party.” He gave June an appraising look from her headband right down to her painted toes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the sand under her feet turned to glass from all of the heat emanating between them. “I wish I could stay for the festivities, but duty calls. Night, June.” I thought I heard him humming as he walked away.

June stood melted to the sand, watching Jack leave, but I made a beeline for Hammond. “Oh, honey, what was that all about? Was Jack questioning you? What did he want? What did you say? Where is he going now? Does he think…?”

Hamm placed his strong hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “First of all, Francesca, breathe.”

I gulped a mouthful of air and waited. He glanced at June, still standing a few paces off then directed his gaze back to my face. “Listen, everything is fine. Morgan is just doing his job. He wondered if we saw or heard anything out of the ordinary last night. That’s all. Just routine.”

“So he told you about Ruby’s? Can you believe it? We just caught the newscast at the club. I’m still in shock.”

Hamm softly repeated, “Just routine, just doing his job.” I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince me or himself.

“Come on. Let’s go back to the party. I could use a drink.”

I looked down at my empty wine glass. “I couldn’t agree more.”

June followed us up the beach about a half step behind then veered off toward a trio of friends on the patio. Hamm and I made our way to the bar where he ordered a double Jack on ice and another glass of red wine for me.

“Hey, Hamm! I see your wish finally came true! You’ve been saying for years that you were planning night maneuvers to get rid of the evil red door and everything behind it!”

“Good job, buddy! You’ve done all of us husbands a favor and saved us all tons of cash!”

The ribbing was coming from all around us. “Hey, Francie, I guess you brought home just one too many of those little red bags from Ruby’s!”

“What was it that sent him over the edge? Was it one more bead for your bracelet, or another serving dish? Was it worth it?”

Hamm was not at all impressed. He finished off his drink in two long sips and set his glass on the bar. “Come on, Francie, let’s get out of here,” he said between clenched teeth as he pulled me toward the parking lot. That dough ball in my stomach was rising to become a whole bakery shelf of dread.

Despite the tension radiating from my husband, the mood all around us was festive. The band began strumming the first chords of “Brown Eyed Girl,” and people started migrating toward the dance floor and swaying to the beat. Conversations became louder and more animated. The guys verbally competed with their fish tales and all the upgrades they made to their boats while they were stored in heated buildings over the winter. They never got tired of hearing themselves talk about who had the biggest or cleanest or fastest boat in the marina.

The ladies’ conversations leaned more toward who lost or gained weight over the winter, who went on the coolest vacations, literary fiction versus romance novels, and which recipes were bound for glory at this summer’s cookouts. The party was officially in full swing.

“Come on, Hamm.” I squeezed his hand and steered him away from the exit and onto the edge of the sandy, concrete dance floor. “How about just one dance? Please?”

He looked down at my sad puppy face, then out toward the parking lot. Sad puppy face wins every time. He was a little tense at first, but once the lead singer belted out the chorus to our song, our hips were moving in sync, and like everyone around us, we were swaying to the Van Morrison classic. My skirt floated gently around me as he spun me in a quick turn, dipped me in a grand gesture, and planted a kiss right on my lips for all to see. When the song was over, both of us were a bit flushed, and Hamm seemed much more like himself.

“Thanks for that, my brown-eyed girl. You always bring a smile to my face, even when I’m trying my hardest to perfect my frown.”

“Even though this hasn’t been the perfect start to our first weekend back, you always say a bad day at the beach is still better than a good day at home. I’ve always liked that saying.”

“There is that.”

Hamm’s phone rang and after checking the caller display, he briskly walked around to the side of the building to take the call. I was feeling a little awkward standing all alone until June rushed up and stopped directly in front of me.

“Oh Mylanta, Francie, have you tried the buffalo dip or the fiery grilled shrimp yet? It’s to die for. Come inside, we have to load up before Keith and Johnny eat everything!”

“Hang on a minute. I’m waiting for Hamm to finish a call, then we can all go load up.”

“Who is he talking to? I hope it’s not trouble at the office. You know how unreliable so many employees become near holidays. Suddenly everyone catches some rare strain of ‘Don’t feel like going to workitis.’”

Hamm was walking back with a look on his face that just about summed up June’s prediction. “We need to go, Francie. It’s just one thing after another this weekend. I’m sorry.”

“Alright. I guess I’ll see you later, June. Have fun and don’t get into too much trouble without me.”

“I’ll do my best! Good night, guys.” She was already disappearing into the sea of dancers as she waved good-bye.

On our way back to the condo, Hamm informed me that he had to return home the next morning. He had to take care of some business that apparently came up while we were trying to relax and enjoy our weekend. His partner was unreachable, so it was up to him to sort out the mess that one of the interns made while filing a brief. Whatever. By now, I didn’t know whether to be worried or angry.

My trip to paradise was turning into a bust. My husband was behaving strangely; I had to leave the party early and miss all the great food, drinks, and dancing to the live band; and not least by any means, Ruby’s Treasure Chest was now a smoldering pile of ashes in a parking lot. In any case, June and I would stay on for the remainder of the weekend as initially planned.

Back at the condo, everything was quiet. All of our neighbors must have called it an early night after a long day at the beach or were out enjoying their own holiday gatherings. The front porch light was on and Hamm unlocked the door and shut it behind us like he was trying to keep the outside world from invading our last precious haven of peace and quiet. I slipped off my sandals and kicked them over to the entrance rug. For some reason, the house felt gloomy, so I turned on some lamps. I also decided to flip the switch on our electric fireplace to try to chase away the chilly mood hanging in the air.

Hamm settled into the deep cushions of our starfish-colored sofa and sat quietly, alternately rubbing the stubble on his jaw and the back of his neck. I went into the kitchen, uncorked the bottle of wine that June and I had opened earlier, and poured two glasses. I also grabbed a bag of chips and some salsa on my way back into the living room in case Hamm felt like eating something. It wasn’t June’s homemade pie, but it would have to do.

“Here you go, honey. Let’s make a toast to quickly resolved problems so you can get back here and we can make a fresh start of our mini vacation together.”

Hamm’s response was a low snore. I guess the day had done him in. The poor guy must be exhausted. “Well, here’s to me, I guess. Salute!”

I had just curled up on the couch across from Hamm and taken my first sip of the soothing red, when my purse began vibrating urgently with June’s ringtone on the floor beside me. I tried to be quiet as I leaned over and rummaged through the bottomless jumble of necessities with my right hand while balancing my full glass in my left. I finally got my hands on the feisty little device just before it was about to switch over to voicemail. Curious to find out what was so important that she felt the need to call me so soon after just seeing me, I answered.

“Hello? June? What’s up?”

“Ffffrrrrrrrrrn, issss me.”

“Huh? Who is this? Is that you June?”

“Issssss me. I neeeeee yooooo. Urrrrrryyyy.”

“What the heck, June? Are you drunk? I haven’t even been gone an hour. What happened?” The only response I got was silence. The line had gone dead. “What now? This weekend just keeps getting weirder and weirder.” I realized I was talking to myself as I put my sandals back on, grabbed my purse and the golf cart key, then scribbled a hurried note for Hamm in case he woke up.

I reached the club within ten minutes of receiving the strange call from June. The party was still going strong. People were mingling near the bar and picking at the leftover desserts. Sadly, I noticed one of my diabetic friends savoring the last piece of June’s strawberry rhubarb pie. I saw my friend Lisa exchanging a ticket at the bar for a rum and coke so I made my way over.

“Hey, Lisa. Have you seen June around? I think she might have had too much to drink. She called me, and I could hardly understand what she was saying. I think she needed a ride back to the dock.”

“Oh hey, Frannie! Come have a drink with me. I was waiting on June, but I haven’t seen her since she went out by the beach a while ago.”

“Why was she going out to the beach? Was she alone?”

“You know June. She saw some cute guy with a dog out by the breakwall and said she had to talk to him real quick. I’m sure she was interested in more than talking though, if you know what I mean. So what are you drinking?”

“Sorry, Lisa, it’s been a really long day. I just came back to pick June up, then I’ve got to get back to the condo. I left Hamm asleep there.”

“Suit yourself! Good luck finding Junie. Last I saw her she was over there.” She pointed toward the beach.

“Thanks, Lisa. Have fun.”

I started walking toward the lake in the direction Lisa had pointed. There was very little light from the moon as I got farther away from the party. Hopefully, I wasn’t on another wild goose chase. I was starting to get a little crabby after all of the day’s ups and downs. I really needed to get a good night’s sleep and start fresh tomorrow.

“June! Hey, June, are you out here?” I was halfway down the beach and nearing the breakwall and still no sign of my friend. I decided to go to the edge of the water where the limestone jutted out into the lake. If June didn’t turn up, then I guess it was a pretty good possibility that she had found herself a handsome man to take care of her. Maybe Detective Morgan had come back. She would surely be safe and in good hands if she was with him.

I heard a low growl and then noticed movement in the shadows up ahead. “June? Is that you? Come on, you’re the one who called me out here, so let’s go. I’ll take you back to the condo with me and you can sleep this one off. I might even throw in some aspirin and a cup of coffee. June?”

Something furry brushed up against my leg and I let out a sharp scream. The next thing I knew I was lying on my back in the sand being slobbered upon by some furry creature. “What the …? Help me! Help! Get off of me! ”

“Gunner, heel!” A loud, masculine, commanding voice sounded out of the dark. The fuzzy, licking monster instantly jumped off me and sat at attention on the ground by my feet. I was struggling to sit up when the figure of a man blocked the wan light of the moon completely. He reached out his hand and helped me to my feet.

“Sorry, ma’am. That’s my dog Gunner. He gets a little over-excited sometimes and forgets his manners.” He cleared his throat like he wasn’t used to talking much more than a few words at a time. “I guess I’m a bit lacking in the manners department too. My name’s Michael. Are you by any chance Francie?”

“Yes?” The question startled me and my answer came out sounding more like a question as well.

“I know your friend June. We met last summer and have spoken several times since then. My buddy Gunner here is a big fan of hers. Right now, she’s sleeping it off over there by the rocks. Gunner and I were sitting out here on the breakwall listening to the music from that party since the sound was carrying way out here, when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, here comes June. She was bobbing and weaving and stumbling all over the place, so I went over to see if I could help her. When I got to her, she was mumbling about mermaids and detectives and Francie and cheese? I couldn’t make any sense out of what she was trying to tell me. Then she just passed out. I checked she was breathing regularly and didn’t have any injuries, and then I made sure there wasn’t anything near her that could harm her. I don’t own a cell phone so I was on my way up to the clubhouse to see about getting some help when you showed up.

“Oh no! Is she okay?” I brushed as much sand off of my behind as I could while I half-stumbled, half-ran over to the lumpy shadow near the end of the breakwall, which turned out to be June. She was curled up on her side with an army jacket folded under her head. The look on her face was angelic. Her breathing was strong and regular. That being said, she wasn’t going anywhere without assistance. She was out cold.

“Michael, thank you so much for helping June, but I’m going to need to ask you for another favor. There’s no way I can get her back to my condo by myself. Could you help me get her in the golf cart and then ride back with me and help me get her inside?”

Without another word, Michael picked June up like she was a rag doll, carried her across the sand to where I had left my ride, and laid her gently across the back seat. I picked up the jacket, and Gunner hopped right up beside her and sat at attention. Michael slid into the front passenger seat and silently stared straight ahead. When I handed him his jacket, he thanked me so quietly, he might have just been clearing his throat again. The man was intimidating, but he had a friendly dog and he smelled really nice.

Sunday morning the weather was right in line with the gloomy tone of the recent events. Heavy, gray clouds hung outside the bedroom window like damp wool. Hammond got up at the crack of dawn and gathered his things for his return home. “Francesca, what on earth is June doing in the guest room?”

“Um, she had a little too much to drink last night at the party and called me shortly after you fell asleep asking me to pick her up. I drove the golf cart down to the club and brought her back here while you were still asleep. I didn’t want her to be alone in case she woke up and didn’t remember where she was.”

“Typical June.”

I felt bad; it was a little early for Hamm to have to be mumbling under his breath about June’s behavior. I couldn’t imagine what he would think if I filled him in on all of the details from the previous night. I thought it best to leave that information out for now until I could get the whole story from June. Maybe by the time I relayed all of the events to Hamm, it would be just another “That Nutty June” story to laugh about. Right now, I was not finding anything remotely funny about last night’s turn of events.

Hamm pulled me in for a hug and a quick kiss before he placed his empty coffee cup in the sink and picked up his bag to head out.

“I love you, Francesca. Please stay close to home and don’t go poking around into other people’s business. Maybe you and June could just hang out on the deck today, do some reading, get some sun, that kind of thing? I’d ask you to come back with me, but I know that would be useless. So please, promise me.”

I pulled a cardigan on over my pajama top, trying to chase away the chill in the room. The prospect of getting any sun today looked wildly remote at this point. I thought Hamm was going to say something else, but he just looked at me with an expression that was not covered in my Theater’s Handbook of Facial Expressions and Emotions.

“Of course I promise. Why would I want to interfere with the authorities? I want them to find out who did this terrible thing to our friends as soon as possible.” This was mostly true, but just to be safe, my fingers were crossed behind my back.

“All right then. Don’t let June talk you into doing anything stupid, and make sure she didn’t break any laws last night. I love you.”

“Always the attorney—love you too, hon. Call or text me when you get back, and be careful.”

Before the door swung shut behind Hamm, I was opening the door to the guest bedroom to check on June. I needed to find out what happened to her last night, but it didn’t look like I’d be getting any information out of her for a while. She was curled up under the covers, and just like last night, she was breathing deeply, a look of angelic sweetness on her face. It was still early, so I decided I might as well brew another pot of coffee and do a little research on the Internet. Maybe I could figure out what, if not who, had caused her bizarre behavior last night.  About two hours and four cups of coffee into my digital foray, I had learned a good deal about the drug, Rohypnol, and its effects, enough to suspect someone had used this with the specific intent to harm my friend. I didn’t know who would want to hurt June, but I was determined to find out. June walked bleary-eyed out of the bathroom and plopped down at the kitchen table. Her face was scrubbed clean and she was wearing green camouflage cargo pants with a lacy white T-shirt that she must have found in one of Beth’s drawers. In spite of her fragile condition, she still managed to look great.

“Francie, what happened last night? Everything is all mixed up in my head, and I’m having a hard time deciding what really happened and what I dreamt. The last thing I can remember for sure is ordering a drink with Lisa, then running into the club to powder my nose in case Jack decided to make a reappearance. He is so mysterious. I really wouldn’t mind finding out what makes him tick. Anyway, I went back to hang out with Lisa and had finished about half of my drink when I saw Michael and Gunner out by the breakwall. At least, I think that’s what happened. I thought that if I brought them a piece of my rhubarb pie, maybe I could get Michael to open up to me a little bit. I don’t even care about getting a story out of him anymore. I just think he’s probably a great guy with some trust issues, so I wrapped a couple of pieces up and headed out there. The next thing I remember is waking up in your guest room. I know I didn’t have that much to drink.”

“Oh my gosh, June. I don’t know what happened. I got a call from you, but I couldn’t understand a thing you said. You were speaking gibberish. I think you said that you needed help. I figured you met up with some of your friends and had too much to drink. I did think it was strange though because not enough time had passed for you to get that intoxicated. It couldn’t have been more than forty minutes. I went back to the club to pick you up, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. Lisa told me you headed down to the beach so I went looking. The next thing I knew I was being slobbered to death by a dog and meeting your mystery friend Michael. He said you were stumbling all over and talking about mermaids and cheese or something, then you passed out.”