Ponce De Leon Park was a mile away. She could have taken one of the hotel’s golf carts, but she needed the extra time to clear her head.
When she reached the sidewalk that ran parallel to scenic Highway A1A. She paused for a line of cars to pass before crossing the road, then tilted the brim of her floppy straw hat to view the ocean panorama in front of her. The view of the glittering Atlantic and the calls of the island’s plethora of birds were a soothing balm to her jangled nerves—better than a tranquilizer—or even a glass of wine. Wearing a hat on sunny days was still a necessity because of her scar. Even with sunscreen she had to be careful of the fragile skin. Makeup helped to camouflage it, but even after three surgeries, due to the depth and width of the wound, her badge of courage as her therapist called it, would always be visible.
The festival was in full swing when she reached the park entrance with its large commanding statue of Spanish explorer Ponce De Leon who was thought to have first landed in North America on their barrier island. A plaque at the base of the statue read: While there is disagreement among scholars, it is believed that this site may be in an area where Juan Ponce de Leon made landfall in April 1513. It has long been thought that this event took place near St. Augustine, based upon studies of de Leon’s compass headings that did not account for the inability of 16th century navigators to accurately determine longitude, magnetic compass deviations, or the effect of the Gulf Stream and prevailing winds. Ponce de Leon’s landing may still be up for interpretation, but most historians agreed that Ponce de Leon’s search in Florida for the fountain of youth was just the stuff of legend. Liz still liked to believe the legend was true. She knew island life was rejuvenating, not like her hectic Manhattan lifestyle that had probably added years. Hopefully it would all even out.
She pushed her way through the crowd. Upbeat calypso steel drum music filled the air. The lead singer of a band called Crabby Joes, wore a hat topped with a pair of red, jiggly crab claws. Liz watched him jump down from the stage, grab someone from the crowd, and start dancing, as everyone around them clapped to the beat. There were smiles on all the big and little ones dressed as mermaids and pirates. It was a good turnout and she was thrilled no one knew about the murder.
Yet.
Across the street from the park was a vacant field were carnival rides had been set up. On such a clear summer day the Ferris wheel would give breathtaking views of both the Indian River Lagoon and the Atlantic. As every islander knew, June was the beginning of the hurricane season. But for now, the only storm that Liz saw brewing was the one back at the Indialantic, especially after Charlotte had her news conference where she planned to announce to the world about Julian Rhodes’s death.
After grabbing a cup of fresh mango juice from a juice stand, she made her way to the park’s small wooden boardwalk. Placing the cup on the railing, she glanced down at the beach. There were almost as many people on the sand as there were at the park. Mermaid tail wind sockets danced on the ocean breeze. Adolescents attempted to balance on wave boards, only to get thrown off, then resurface, laughing as their parents looked on in worry. Sandcastles littered the shoreline and people toting metal detectors searched for gold coins washed ashore from the 1715 fleet shipwreck. If you found treasure on one of Florida’s public beaches it was yours to keep. The same wasn’t true if you found gold or silver at the bottom of the ocean past the tide line.
Two manned lifeguard stations were set up. Melbourne Beach wasn’t immune to shark sightings, and a few unfortunate people had the bite marks to prove it. But it was hard to worry about such things this afternoon—the perfect ending to the Mystical Merfest.
Finishing her mango juice, she threw her cup in a bin overflowing with trash and made her way to the pavilion. “Liz, over here!” Kate shouted, her face flushed with excitement. “How fabulous is all this?”
Kate and Alex sat on their mer-thrones. By the raising of Alex’s eyebrows, followed by a wink, Liz could tell Kate’s merman prince boyfriend had thought it was all too much. A professional surfer, Alex was used to having his bare, tanned upper torso exposed, but not like this. He looked like the perfectly molded Ken doll Aunt Amelia had bought Liz for her seventh birthday. Bathing Suit Ken came with his own surfboard, which Liz stole and gave to Barbie.
Next to Alex, a gaggle of mermen followers stood to the right of the small stage, drool pooling as they stared at the handsome world-renowned surfer. Kate seemed to have her own male admirers. And rightly so. The costume Francie, co-owner of Home Arts, had made Kate was exquisite. Each sequin on her tail had been hand sewn. Kate’s long dark glossy hair trailed over one shoulder and she wore a gold crown covered in rainbow-hued albacore shells, pearls, and sequins. The pair made a striking couple and she was thrilled her best friend might have finally found her soulmate. Liz had fixed them up, knowing when she’d first met Alex that Kate and he would make an excellent match. Both were athletic, both competitive, and both huge readers. Although, she didn’t think Alex talked to characters in his books like Kate did. Kate had been talking to books since Liz first introduced her to the Indialantic’s huge library at age eight.
Kate coaxed Liz up the pavilion steps with a flip of her tail. Liz felt bad Aunt Amelia wouldn’t be able to join in the closing ceremonies, but she’d naturally chosen to stay by her grieving friend.
Unlike Kate, whose legs were tucked inside her tail, Alex was able to stand in his costume. The bottom of his tail was stuffed with batting but there was a slit up the back enabling him to walk. He grabbed a folding chair for Liz to sit on.
After she sat, she leaned over and asked Kate a question. “Susannah said she saw Julian and Dorian in Books & Browsery on Saturday. Did they buy anything?”
Kate waved to a little mermaid and threw a flower lei toward her.
“Kate,” Liz said. “Promise, just one question.”
“Sorry. Wasn’t that little blondie the cutest merchild? This is so much fun! Maybe next year you can play Meribel?”
“Not my kind of thing.”
“Because of your scar?”
“No, it has nothing to do with that. I just don’t like the limelight since what happened in New York and then last January.”
“But you’re a New York Times Bestselling author. No one down here cares about what happened in New York. You’re a hometown island girl. You grew up here.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll think about it,” Liz said laughing. “Now back to my question?”
“Oh, about them coming in the shop. Yes, they did. Yesterday morning Julian bought a book I was happy to get rid of…It was one of those dry business books on how get to the top no matter who you had to step on to get there.”
Liz smiled, “I was worried you were going to say it was a black magic book of evil spells or something.”
“Wow. I can’t believe you said that, because I did sell a book of spells to Ms. Starwood.”
“Phoebe Starwood?”
“No. Dorian Starwood,” Kate said. “It wasn’t the best book for a beginning witch. I warned her that I didn’t like my conversation with the author in the preface. But she wouldn’t listen.”
“Do you remember the name of it,” Liz asked.
Kate gave her a don’t you know me look and said, “It was called, Not Your Mother’s Book of Spells.”
“Catchy title.” Liz’s mind wandered to Dorian. She must have been the one to make the jar of sharp objects. What she didn’t know was, who the jar was meant for. She told herself Dorian wouldn’t kill Julian. But did she really know that?
Before Liz could ask more about the types of spells in book, she watched the town’s mayor go up the steps of the pavilion and come toward them. Liz scooched her chair back, away from the limelight.
The mayor stepped in front of Kate and Alex, holding a microphone in one hand, and a large key covered in aqua glitter in the other. He looked over at Kate, then Alex, and said to the crowd, “It is my pleasure to present the key to our little seaside town to this year’s mermaid princess Kate Fields and her merman prince Alex Russell. The pair raised the most money in the festival’s history that will enable the Barrier Island Educational Center along with government grants to continue its sea turtle research. Well done, you two.”
There was thundering applause and Liz stood to give them an ovation. When she glanced out at the throng of festival goers she was startled when she saw the man with the black baseball cap staring directly at her.
Liz charged off the stage and pushed her way through the crowd. Glimpsing his black cap disappearing down the wooden ramp leading to the beach, she followed. When she reached the sand, he was nowhere to be seen. Even if he tried to hide next to a group of sunbathers, his black getup would surely tip her off. She turned and took the wooden steps back up to the park.
On the fourth step up, she felt a hand grab her ankle from the gap between the steps. She teetered, then screamed, flailing for the railing to keep from falling. When her hand got a hold of the railing so did a huge wood splinter. “Oww!” She screeched.
Regaining her composure, her panic turned to anger. Even if it was a kid playing a joke, she didn’t think it was funny. Slowly, she stepped backward until she was on the sand. At eye level she peered between the gap in the third and fourth step and saw two hazel eyes looking back at her. They didn’t belong to a kid, but a full-grown rough looking man. A man wearing a black baseball cap.
The man put his fingers to his lips and said, “Stop following me.” Then he took off toward another set of steps, climbed them two at a time and disappeared from view.
A lifeguard must have heard her scream. He came up behind her and asked, “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Just lost my balance. Thought a snake touched my ankle, but it was just a dried palm frond. Silly me.”
She wasn’t sure the lifeguard believed her. “That was quite a howl.” He smiled. Perfect white teeth gleamed against his tanned face. “Let me escort you up. We don’t have many snakes directly on the beach.” He grabbed her elbow and guided her up to the boardwalk.
“Thank you,” she managed, “I was being a sissy.”
“It’s always good to be cautious on Florida’s beaches. We do have man o’ war and jellyfish, not to mention land crabs that could latch onto a toe or two.” He noticed her hand. “Hey, you’re bleeding.”
Blood dripped down from her right hand.
“Just a splinter from the railing,” she said, maneuvering the piece of wood back and forth until she managed to free a piece the size of a wood barbeque skewer from her palm. Tears welled at the pain.
“You need some soap and water, and a topical antibiotic.”
“I’m good,” she said, getting out a wad of tissues from her bag to staunch the blood. “I’ll take care of it. Thanks for saving me from a palm frond attack.” What she really wanted to do was looked for the guy who grabbed her ankle and give him a piece of her mind.
He smiled back, white teeth glowing against his tan angular face, his hair naturally highlighted from the summer sun. “Any time …”
“Liz.”
“Liz,” he repeated. “I’m Josh.”
She glanced toward the set of steps a hundred feet away. The guy was long gone.
“I’ll better meet my friend. Thanks again, Josh.”
“No problem,” he said, going back down the steps to the beach.
Before heading back to Kate, she paused for a moment before heading to the pavilion, the man’s words repeating in her head, Stop following me. It would be a fat chance in Hades before she listened to the creep. Whatever he was up to must have something to do with Julian Rhodes murder.