After Olivia returned to her house from the police station, she brought what luggage she had in her car inside, along with two folding chairs, a box with the blow-up bed, and a sleeping bag. Instead of setting the bed up in the master bedroom upstairs, she left it in the living room. She didn’t want to haul it up the staircase. Olivia had planned to pick up some groceries, but the trip to the police station had eaten up her time, and now she was simply too drained and exhausted to go shopping. This meant she would have to run out later and pick up something to eat.
Olivia dragged the blow-up bed from its case, unfolded it where she intended to sleep, and then plugged its cord into an electrical outlet. Just as the bed finished filling with air, her doorbell rang. When she got to her front door a few minutes later, she looked through the peephole and saw a familiar face. It was Josephine Barker. While she had never met the woman in person, she recognized her from the video conference calls during her job interview.
After unlocking her door, Olivia opened it. “Josephine Barker?”
Josephine smiled and then held up the basket in her hands, which Olivia hadn’t noticed when looking through the peephole.
“You recognized me! I bought you a little welcome-to-Frederickport gift from the library.”
Olivia smiled and opened the door wider, motioning for Josephine to enter. “I’m surprised you knew I arrived. I told you I would arrive on Monday.”
“But then here you are.” Josephine handed Olivia the basket after Olivia closed the front door. “You’ll find living in a small town like Frederickport, news gets around fairly quickly.”
Now holding the basket, Olivia silently inventoried its contents: gourmet coffee beans, muffins, chocolate chip cookies, crackers, and an assortment of Tillamook cheese. “This was very thoughtful of you. Please come in. But let me set this in the kitchen. I’m afraid my furniture hasn’t arrived yet.”
A few minutes later, Olivia returned to the living room after setting the basket on the kitchen counter. She sat in one of the folding chairs, with Josephine sitting in the other one.
Hesitantly, Olivia asked, “Do you know what happened down the street from here this morning?”
“I assume you mean what happened to poor Betty Kelty?”
Olivia nodded.
“I still can’t believe it. She wasn’t just a coworker. She was my friend. Were you here this morning when all the commotion was going on?” Josephine asked.
Olivia shook her head. “No. I was in flight. From what the police told me, my plane hadn’t even landed when it happened.”
“You talked to the police?”
Olivia nodded. “Apparently, someone saw your friend shortly before they found her body. She was leaving my yard through the front gate onto the sidewalk, and she was with a woman, who, by the description given, the police thought might be me.”
“But it wasn’t?”
Olivia let out a snort. “Not unless I could pop down from my flight while it’s thousands of feet in the air, and then pop up again.”
“I wonder who it was,” Josephine mused.
Olivia shrugged. “I have no idea. It just wasn’t me.”
“I understand you’ll be busy next week getting moved in after your furniture arrives. But I was hoping you could come down to the library sometime next week—at your convenience—to discuss your job.”
Olivia arched her brow. “I thought I was supposed to start Friday, anyway. Is there a problem? Do you need me to come before that?”
“We just need to make some changes now that dear Betty is gone. We would like you to consider taking the job of head librarian. I’ll stick around until we can find a replacement for Betty and help you get settled into your new position. I suppose we can just discuss it more on Friday. But I would like you to consider taking the job.”
Exhausted, Carla sat at Pier Café’s lunch counter; it had been a long day. Business had picked up after they found Betty Kelty’s body up the street. After rubbernecking the crime scene, locals stopped into the diner to get something to eat and to pump Carla for any details she might have. But that had since settled down, and now just the regulars drifted into the diner.
Instead of going home after her shift, Carla took a seat at the counter and ordered herself a burger. She had no desire to go home and cook dinner. She was just about to take a bite of her burger when a woman she had never seen before walked into the diner. The woman glanced around. Less than half of the tables and booths were occupied, with Carla the only customer at the counter. The woman looked toward the counter and started that way.
A moment later, the woman took a seat at the counter. One stool separated her from Carla. Carla looked her way and said, “Hi. You’re not from around here, are you? We don’t get a lot of tourists at this time of year.”
The woman smiled at Carla and said, “Actually, I just moved here. I bought a house on Beach Drive.”
“Really? Pearl Huckabee’s old house, I bet.”
“Oh, you know the property?”
“Yeah. If you’re here alone and would like some company and the scoop on your new neighborhood, you’re welcome to sit with me. My name’s Carla. I work here, but I just got off.”
The woman looked to Carla, silently studying her for a moment, and then took Carla’s offer and changed stools. “Thank you, Carla. Yes, I’m the new owner. My name is Olivia Davis.”
Carla reached down the counter in the opposite direction from where Olivia sat and grabbed a menu. She handed it to Olivia and said, “Welcome to Frederickport. By the way, the food is actually pretty good here.”
“Thank you.” Olivia accepted the menu, opened it, and began reading the entrée options.
“Did you hear about the murder?” Carla asked.
Olivia glanced up from the menu to Carla. “Yes, I’m afraid I did. Not a terrific first day in my new home.” She turned her attention back to the menu.
Carla shrugged. “Beach Drive seems to have more than its share of that sort of thing. Sometimes I wonder if we have some weird cosmic energy hovering over this neighborhood that attracts that type of negative energy.” Carla took a bite of her burger.
Olivia set the menu on the counter and frowned at Carla. “What do you mean?”
When Carla finished swallowing her bite of food, she picked up a napkin, wiped her mouth, and looked at Olivia. “Well, you know, Pearl was murdered in the house you bought. Pushed down the staircase.”
“I didn’t know.”
Again, Carla shrugged. “If it makes you feel any better, they locked up her killer. Not in prison, I heard they put her in some looney bin. According to Police Chief MacDonald, she’s not fit to stand trial. And then, of course, there were those bodies found in Pearl’s backyard.” Carla paused a moment and looked at Olivia. “Of course, it’s your backyard now. But those bodies aren’t there anymore, and I don’t think you need to worry about finding any more. I think the police really checked out the place. Plus, their killer’s behind bars, too.”
“Lovely,” Olivia said dryly. The next moment, a server came and took Olivia’s order and brought her iced water.
“Aside from that, you have some great neighbors on this street,” Carla said when the server left to put in Olivia’s order.
“I do?”
“Yeah. There’s Walt and Danielle Marlow, who own Marlow House. They run a B and B, but I don’t think they’ll have it open much longer. She’s having twins.”
Olivia arched her brows. “Twins?”
“I can’t even imagine one, much less two.” Carla shivered. “Marlow House is like one of the oldest houses in town, built by the founder of Frederickport, Frederick Marlow. Walt Marlow is some distant cousin of his. But the funny thing, Danielle inherited the house from some aunt—no relation to Marlow—and it was after she was living there when she met Walt Marlow. He was a guest at the B and B. Came with his fiancée. But she died. Long story.”
“Umm… I guess.”
“And then there’s Lily and Ian Bartley. They live across the street from Marlow House. Lily moved here after Danielle did. They’re best friends. Have you ever heard of Jon Altar?”
“Sure. He’s a writer. I’ve always loved his work. I know he lives in Frederickport.”
“Jon Altar is Ian Bartley’s pen name.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I have no clue why he doesn’t write under his own name. I think that would be awful confusing to go by two names.”
“I can’t believe he practically lives across the street from me.”
“Walt Marlow is also an author.”
“He’s that Walt Marlow?”
Carla nodded. “Yeah. I can’t remember the name of his book, but they were going to make a movie of it, but, well, that’s a long story too. Let’s just say the movie didn’t get made.”
“Interesting neighbors,” Olivia mused.
“Ian and Lily have a little boy. She used to be a teacher, but now she’s a stay-at-home mom. They’re both really nice.” Carla took a drink of her soda and then said, “And your neighbor on the other side, that’s Heather Donovan.”
“I met the Marlows and Heather Donovan earlier today. I had to pick up my keys from Marlow House. The Marlows seemed friendly, but that Heather Donovan, she didn’t say a word. Seemed very odd.”
“Well, don’t be too hard on Heather. She and Chris are the ones who found the body this morning. And this is not the first time for Heather. She kind of has this reputation in town for finding dead bodies. She does it all the time.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “What do you mean all the time?”
Carla shrugged. “Just that if a body washes up on shore, nine times out of ten, it will be Heather who finds it.”
“Umm… that is a little weird.”
“Welcome to Frederickport.” Carla laughed. “And then there is Chris Johnson. Who is totally worth the trip to Beach Drive.”
“What do you mean?”
“Chris lives up from Lily and Ian, on their side of the street. He is, like, the hottest guy you will ever see, seriously. And he’s nice. And single.”
“Is he gay?”
Carla chuckled. “I seriously doubt it. He had a thing for Danielle before Walt came along. And according to Heather, he dates a lot, but typically not in Frederickport. He and Heather work together at the Glandon Foundation.”
“I’ve heard of that. It’s the philanthropic foundation set up by Chris Glandon, right?”
Carla smiled knowingly at Olivia. “Yes. It is. You know who Chris Glandon is?”
“Sure, I’ve read about him. He’s some reclusive billionaire who inherited his fortune from his parents. Likes to give away money and travels the world.”
“That’s him. Both Chris and Heather work for the foundation. Basically, Chris manages it, and Heather is his assistant.”
“Does Chris Glandon ever come to Frederickport?”
“He has a couple of times, but if he comes, no one ever sees him. He likes his privacy.”
“Have you ever seen him in Frederickport?”
Carla didn’t answer immediately. She chewed her lower lip a moment while considering her answer. Finally, she said, “Well, I met him once when he came to town.”
“What does he look like? The only pictures I’ve seen of him he’s got this overly bushy, scruffy beard, long hair, and sunglasses.”
Carla looped a lock of pink hair around a fingertip and twirled it a moment before saying, “Chris Glandon? Well, umm… he’s kinda average looking. Forgettable. Not sure how I would describe him.”