Chapter Twelve

 

 

Friday, June 18

11:00 a.m.

 

She stopped counting when she reached one hundred, each car following slowly behind the one in front with headlights that were hard to see in the brilliant sunshine of the summer day. The sadness that hung over the town was suffocating.

Elise forced herself to move away from the window. The funeral was over and another family was shattered. She had a ton of work to do and looking out the window was not going to get it done any faster.

It was deadline day and she had finally finished the feature story she’d been working on for most of the week. Wanting to see how it looked in the actual paper, she headed back to the small composing room located in the back of the building.

The draft tables were strewn with pages and pages of what would eventually be Sunday’s edition of the Ocean Point Weekly. The advertisements had already been pasted onto the pages. The large blank spaces were a less than subtle reminder of all the work the rest of them had to do before five p.m.

Dean’s weekly photo page was already laid out. Her coworker was definitely blessed with a talent for capturing memorable images.

She smiled at the look of uncertainty on the toddler’s face as he navigated the difficult task of walking on sand for the very first time. The picture of the teenagers playing touch football on the beach was a great shot, and the large photograph of a little girl licking an ice cream cone on the boardwalk was simply precious.

She scanned several more pictures before settling on a small shot of the new mayor leaving church last Sunday. His warm smile and wave to the crowd was exactly what you would expect from a politician. But his wave needed work. With his thumb and pinky tucked downward, he looked like a Boy Scout preparing to recite his sacred oath.

Shaking her head, she willed herself to move on. She was wasting time looking at pictures she’d see in Sunday’s paper. The blank spots throughout the mock-up were indication enough of the work editorial still had to do before the end of the day. Just one peek at her story and she’d get back to business . . .

The front page of the lifestyle section brought an end to her search. The fortune-teller story looked great. And she was very pleased to see that Dean had managed to catch the mystical aura that was as much a part of Madame Mariah as her dark hair and penetrating eyes. Even the side story on the various techniques used by the psychics held its own.

All she needed now was a teaser on the front page of the paper inviting readers to turn to the lifestyle section. Maybe a quote from the new mayor regarding the undeniable popularity of the fortune-tellers during the summer months would fit the bill. It was worth a shot. And besides, she needed to call him about another story anyway.

Elise glanced at her watch. The mayor should be back in his office by now even if he had attended Cindy’s funeral. She peeked out the window once more. The funeral procession was long gone, and from what she could see, things were getting back to normal on the streets of Ocean Point. As normal as it could with a murderer on the loose.

But it felt wrong. Wrong to be sitting on a beach or shopping in a store or eating an ice cream cone when two families were facing life without their daughters. Elise looked down at the pale yellow sundress she wore. The tiny sprig of flowers that dotted the bodice section had caught her eye in a small dress shop on Ocean Boulevard just after she moved to town. She had felt so pretty and upbeat when she finally put it on that morning, but now it felt wrong too. Disrespectful somehow.

Elise sighed and turned away from the window. She couldn’t do anything to change what had happened. But maybe her work could keep it from happening again. She walked over to her phone and placed a call to the town hall. After identifying herself and requesting a few minutes of the mayor’s time, she was quickly put through to his line.

“Good morning, Elise. I imagine you’re looking forward to the festival at St. Theresa’s tomorrow like everyone else in town?”

The festival. She’d almost forgotten. “I-I guess I am, yes. I could use a little break from work.”

“So, what can I do for you today?” His voice was strong and self-assured.

“I have a few things actually, but I’ll try to make it as quick as possible. I was hoping to do a story on your first month in office. How it has compared to what you envisioned, the direction you would like to see Ocean Point move in, that kind of thing.”

“Sounds great. Fire away.”

She flipped her notepad to a clean sheet of paper and prepared to write his answers to her questions. “First up, can you tell me what some of your immediate goals are for the remainder of the summer tourism season?”

“I want to make sure the wholesomeness of our town is portrayed clearly to the people who choose to vacation here each year,” he said. “I want our rental property owners to make a concerted effort to rent their cottages and condos to families only. By doing this, we can better avoid many of the problems other beach towns have faced when they have allowed overzealous college kids to vacation there without proper supervision.”

She stopped writing for a moment as she pondered what the mayor said.

“Wouldn’t those property owners have to be careful about discrimination if they put a policy like that into place?” she questioned.

“Certainly. But if our town as a whole caters to the family crowd in everything we do and offer, we won’t be attractive to the wrong sorts of people.”

“What do you see as ways for the town to cater to the family?”

“We need to really push the miniature golf establishments, the family-style restaurants and the innocent fun of the amusement pier.”

She decided to take advantage of the subject to get his opinion on the fortune-tellers. A quote from him would be perfect for her teaser on the front page.

“What about the boardwalk fortune-tellers? Do you think they attract the wrong sort of people?”

“Fortune-tellers are imposters, plain and simple. They are exactly the kind of people who attract everything we don’t want in our town.”

His strong words surprised her, but not as much as the passion with which they were said. There was no doubt about it, Mayor Brown had no use for fortune-tellers or anyone else who threatened the vision he had for Ocean Point. Maybe a teaser from him wasn’t such a great idea after all.

“I’m preparing to move my ailing parents into my home in Ocean Point, and I want them to know they are in a town of high morals and values,” he continued.

She stopped writing for a moment and fiddled with her pen. It was hard to know just how to take the mayor. One minute he seemed rather narrow-minded, the next he seemed to be a man with a really big heart. How could she really fault him for wanting Ocean Point to be a safe place to live?

“That’s quite an undertaking. You’re a newly appointed mayor in a town that has been plagued by two violent crimes, you’re an involved father with two teenage sons, you’re heavily involved in various organizations affiliated with St. Theresa’s, and now you’re taking on the role of caretaker for two elderly parents. That’s a lot on one person’s plate.”

“Well, Elise, it’s like the Bible says: ‘Honor thy father and mother.’ It’s my duty.”

She jotted down his last remark and stopped. The mayor would make a perfect subject for a shadowing story.

“Would it be possible for me to come and spend a few hours shadowing you one day next week?” She looked at her calendar as she waited for his reply.

“Absolutely. Is Tuesday good for you?”

“I have a lunch appointment with Daniel Johnson that day so I’m afraid our time together would be too limited. Would Wednesday or Thursday be a possibility?”

“Thursday at nine would be fine.”

“Wonderful. Thank you so much for your time this afternoon, Mayor Brown.”

“You’re welcome, Elise. I’ll be seeing you at St. Theresa’s tomorrow for the festival and again at Mass on Sunday, right?”

Just what she needed. Another parent checking up on her . . .