Killer Run (5 page)

“You know I hate that place,” Josh said to my aunt as we parted ways. “I thought you and I could go to the city and try out the steak house.”

“You could use some time with other people.”

The rest of Aunt Jackie's words disappeared as they turned a curve away from us. I smiled up at Greg. “I guess we have dinner plans.”

“I'd do anything for your aunt, but seriously, eating with Josh is a whole 'nother layer of commitment. You know he's petitioning the council for air fresheners on the street—”

I interrupted, “To keep the sea air out of South Cove? Yep, he pitched his idea at the Business-to-Business meeting this month. The guy is certifiable. I swear, I don't know what Aunt Jackie sees in him.”

As we rounded the corner, we came up on the large entryway to the path where Darla had set up ground zero for the start of the race. We were right next to a large parking lot where people could shuttle in either from South Cove or one of the beach parking lots down the highway. The banner had already been set up, and Darla was snapping pictures of the area. Kind of a calm-before-the-storm snapshot.

“Hey, there you are.” Amy stepped forward to greet us. She gave me a quick hug and then repeated the gesture with Greg. She tapped his chest. “I thought maybe something happened.”

“Like a natural disaster or a riot in our little town?” Greg chuckled. “Nothing like that. I just wanted a few minutes to spend with my favorite girls.”

Justin came around and slapped Greg on the back before kissing my cheek. “They do make it a little hard to get alone time around here, don't they?”

Amy punched him in the arm. “Stop being a baby. I told you we'd go surfing on Sunday.”

“I appreciate your helping out with the Mission Walk,” I added, upping the sugar level in my tone a few points.

Justin shrugged. “Just making sure everyone”—he paused and pointed at Amy—“understands the sacrifices we men make for the women in our lives.”

“You're going to think sacrifice,” Amy murmured.

Darla stepped in between Amy and Justin, her five-foot frame making a human
W
as we looked at the trio. “Since we're all here, let's get started.” She checked her watch. “I sent Josh and Jackie out at six on the dot. You two”—Darla pointed at the couple flanking her—“I want you to start at six fifteen.”

Justin set his wristwatch. “No problem.”

“When do we go?” Greg and Justin were discussing Justin's new runner watch as I asked Darla for our directions.

“Six thirty. I'll leave here and drive back to the South Cove finish line to meet up with Amy and Justin. Then I'll wait for the rest of you.” Darla made some notes on her clipboard. “Tomorrow we'll have an official race clock and timer, but tonight, it's just me and my Timex.”

When Amy and Justin took off, it was just Greg and me. We sat on a bench and waited. Greg took my hand in his. “You excited about the wall being recognized?”

I thought about the question for a minute before I answered. “I know the race doesn't mean the historical commission will actually find in our favor, but it's a good sign. And I'm a little worried about the amount of work ahead of us if the wall is certified.”

“You know you're doing the right thing.” Greg squeezed my hand. “Even if it does ruin my plans for a sweet hammock and barbeque pit in the area.”

“I know, right? Emma's going to freak every time someone walks near the fence. I'm going to have to change the fencing area if I want it to be accessible to the public.” I thought about all the changes that would take place in my life if the wall was ever approved. Maybe Mayor Baylor would get his wish and the house Miss Emily left me would be turned into a gift shop and tour center for the Mission Wall. “I don't know, maybe I should have just kept things the way they were.”

Greg pulled me into a hug. “You know life doesn't work that way. If the wall is historical, we'll deal with the problems that come along with having a tourist destination in your backyard. We have options.”

I laid my head on his chest and watched Emma sit next to him and lean into his leg. Greg was a rock to cling to in a sea of storms. And for a few minutes, I felt safe.

T
he race trial went off without a hitch, with Jackie and Josh bringing up the rear in less than two hours. Darla, Justin, and Amy left first, apologizing for not being able to make dinner. Aunt Jackie pulled me aside as we walked up the stairs from the beach to the parking lot.

“I know I suggested this double date, but honestly, I'm beat. I'm going to have Josh take me home, and I'll heat up some potato soup I have in the freezer and then turn in.” She stopped at Josh's black sedan and slipped into the passenger seat. “I'll see you bright and early at the food truck.”

“Are you sure everything's okay?” I thought about Sasha saying my aunt had visited with an arthritis specialist. Maybe she was pushing herself too hard.

Aunt Jackie waved my concern away with a flick of her hand. “Now, don't be treating me like I'm ready for some old age home. I just walked three miles. I think I'm due for some relaxation time.”

I watched as Josh pulled the car out of the parking lot and back toward South Cove. Greg put his arm around me. “She's a strong old bird. She'll be fine.”

“I just worry.”

He led me to the truck, and Emma jumped in the backseat and lay down on the blanket Greg kept back there for her. “I know you do. But until she asks for help, you need to let her be.” He opened my door for me, holding out his hand for support as I climbed in. “Hey, want to go down to that clam shack on the beach? We could share a bucket of clams and have shrimp po'boys and fries.”

“Carb loading for the race tomorrow?” I leaned back into the bucket seat. “You know I'm not running, right?”

“We walked the path twice tonight, to the beginning and back to the end. I think we deserve a good dinner.” He turned the key. “I might even let you kiss me when I drop you off at your door.”

“Aren't I a lucky girl?” I reached over and took his hand, and after dropping Emma off at the house, we spent the rest of the evening together like any other normal couple.

 

Race day was predicted to be hot and sunny, but most of the racers would be off the track and back in South Cove by the time the sun really started beating down on the beach. I brewed a single cup of coffee when I rose and ate a toasted cheddar bagel. This was our first trial run in a food truck. I was on the fence about the opportunity. Aunt Jackie was sold on the idea and had been running numbers to see what kind of business we'd have to have to set up a satellite shop that could attend the local festivals and fairs on a regular basis.

I put Emma outside with a new bone and headed down to the beach parking lot to meet up with Aunt Jackie and Sasha. As I passed by her house, Esmeralda was out in the front yard, watering her azaleas. I really was going to have to up my game in flowers if my house was even going to compare to my neighbors.

“Good morning,” I called over the fence, pausing to see if she wanted to talk or would just wave me off. You never knew with our resident fortune-teller/police dispatcher. Sometimes she was chatty; other times, she didn't really want to talk. I guess since she had two careers in which talking was her primary responsibility, I could understand. That was one reason I loved the bookstore part of Coffee, Books, and More. I could hide out and read a book and still consider myself working because I was “researching” new authors. I patted the tote I'd thrown over my shoulder that morning just to make sure I'd packed a book in case traffic to the coffee shack slowed down.

“Good luck with the run today.” Esmeralda shut off the water sprayer and walked over to greet me. “Sorry I couldn't help this time.”

“No worries. We all have to work.” I didn't believe in my neighbor's psychic gift, but I didn't want her to think I thought less of her talent. To each their own, right? I nodded toward the black cat nestled on the porch in a wicker chair. “Maggie hasn't been over to visit lately. Maybe she's becoming a homebody?”

Esmeralda glanced over at the now-yawning kitten. “Apparently she feels you're safe right now and don't need her help.”

Maggie meowed her agreement, and Esmeralda laughed. “Don't worry, Jill. We know you're a non-believer. It just doesn't mean we agree with you.”

“Well, I'm just glad she's staying out of the road. I would hate it if something happened to her.” I stepped away from the fence and waved.

My neighbor called after me. “Send Josh over to me if he needs help adjusting.”

I turned to ask her what she was talking about, but Esmeralda had already turned the water back on and wandered to the backyard. Maggie blinked her eyes at me and then curled tighter to return to sleep.

I power-walked down to the beach, determined to keep Esmeralda's weird announcements out of my head. The last time we'd talked, she'd admitted to being able to read people, and with the rumors that floated around the small town, she typically could nail a prediction without any help from the other side. But I didn't want to think about what she'd heard about Josh or maybe Aunt Jackie that was causing this kind of premonition.

Sasha and Aunt Jackie already had the food truck open, and the smell of coffee filled the morning air, mixing with the salty breeze coming off the ocean. Sadie's purple Pies on the Fly van sat parked next to the food truck, and I waved at Nick as he loaded up a stack of pie boxes to take into the truck.

Sadie stood outside the truck, talking to Aunt Jackie on the inside. She waved me over when she saw me. “We've decided to leave half the dessert inventory in my van during the event. That way I get some free advertisement out of the race, too.” She beamed up at Aunt Jackie.

I translated the agreement for Sadie. “The truck's too small for all the pies, right?”

Aunt Jackie nodded. “We'd only be able to stock twenty percent of what she brought if we didn't have the van available. Now, we may not need as much as we think, but it's always better to be prepared, right?”

I nodded and Sadie laughed. “You really know how to sell, don't you, Jackie? Here I was thinking you were doing me a favor by getting my name out there.”

“It does get your name out there. There's just a secondary reason why it's a good idea.” Aunt Jackie handed Sadie a cup of coffee. “What does that boy of yours want?”

Nick poked his head around the counter. “Nothing. I've got to get to the starting line. I'm running.”

Sasha handed him a bottle of water. “Then drink this, you need to stay hydrated.”

Sadie left the corner near me and Aunt Jackie to tell Nick good luck. “She's a good mom,” Aunt Jackie murmured.

“You wishing you and Uncle Ted had had children?” I took the cup of coffee my aunt held out the window to me.

She shook her head. “Nope. If we'd had kids, then I'd be off somewhere playing grandma instead of working a coffee shack on this fine California morning.”

“I almost believe you.” I sipped my coffee. “You want me in there prepping?”

Aunt Jackie shook her head. “Why don't you go relax for a while? Sasha and I have this. I'll call you if we need you. Just make sure you're here before the race starts at seven. Josh is picking me up, and we'll be driving down to the starting line.”

“I still can't believe you got him to actually walk the race.”

My aunt's eyes twinkled with glee. “I have that man wrapped around my little finger. You need to learn from the master.”

“Greg and I are just fine.” I turned and watched the waves come up on the beach. Even though the sun had just broken over the mountains, the crowds were starting to gather. The starting line area didn't have any room to set up booths or sign-ups. Darla had a shuttle bus set up to take runners down to the starting line. Runners were scattered all over the beach, stretching and chatting.

“Turn over the
Open
sign and go mingle with those society people while you still have time.” Aunt Jackie handed me a cookie bar. She nodded toward the sign-up booth. “I think Darla needs some help over there. It looks like they are upset about something.”

There were two men in suits in front of the Mission Walk booth. Darla's arms were waving as she talked, but I couldn't tell what they were saying. I tapped my phone. “Call me if you get in the weeds.”

“As if.” Aunt Jackie sniffed, then turned her attention to a couple who had come over as soon as I turned over the
Open
sign. “What can I make for you?”

I wandered over to the booth with the bright blue and white flags announcing the Mission Walk. I could hear the raised voices as soon as I got closer.

“You should have been told that all entries had to be finalized online and no one could enter on site.” The taller of the two men was shaking a finger at Darla, who had her hands on her hips. “How can we control the funds when there's no accounting set up?”

“How about you trust me and my staff?” Darla sputtered. “I guess you don't know that I've run a business for the last ten years all on my own without having draconian accounting methods. What do you think, I'm going to run off with the profits?”

“Now, Mrs. Taylor, please don't take our concern for following our standardization and rules for events as a slight. We've been doing these events for over ten years. We've learned and implemented the best processes over the years. The PR company should have explained all of this before the event was even approved.” The smaller man held his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Since they seemed to have failed in their duties, we'll have to assign a member of the financial committee to sit with you today.”

“What's going on, Darla? Is there a problem?” I went around the side of the booth and stood by my friend. Her face was beet red, and I thought she was ready to climb over the top of the table and throttle the guy.

“Who are you?” The taller man stared at me, like I was interrupting.

“I'm Jill Gardner, the owner of the mission wall here in South Cove, and owner of the coffee shop. Darla's the South Cove's community event planner, and she has been involved with this from day one. This is the first we've heard of only online entries. Not to complain about Sandra and Michael, but maybe you should talk to them, not us.” I straightened the flyers on the table in front of me.

“You're right, we will be talking to the Ashfords. As for today, Adam will stay with you until the end of the sign-ups and take the money box from there.” The taller man spun on his heel and threw up a small spurt of sand as he huffed toward the parking lot.

“I wouldn't want to be Michael or Sandra when Oscar gets ahold of them.” The man now known as Adam held out his hand. “Adam Truman, so nice to meet you. The event looks amazing, especially since it appears you did all of this yourselves.”

“The Ashfords came by this week. I never imagined there would be a company hired on to help.” I shrugged my shoulders. “We would have followed the rules, had we known them.”

Adam circled around and found a chair. “Not a problem. We dropped the ball here, not South Cove.”

“We'll be right back.” I pulled a very red Darla out of the booth and toward a grove of trees that lined the Mission Walk. When we were out of earshot, I turned her toward me. “Are you okay?”

“We never got any instructions besides the original letter. If I had known . . .” Darla blustered.

I held up a hand. “I know, and I'm sure the problem lies with the Ashfords. I mean, seriously, those two are a mess. I just want to make sure you are okay. That was kind of tense over there.”

Darla took in a deep breath. Then another. “Yes, I'm fine. I just hate the idea of being questioned by suits.” She glared toward the booth. “Although Adam
seems
nice.”

“Let's just get through today. If we decide to commit to next year, we'll be wiser and know to get all the information up-front.” I put my hand on Darla's shoulders. “Besides, now handling the money is one less thing you have to worry about, right?”

Darla nodded, then her face broke into a wide grin. “Exactly. I just got a new helper.”

I threw my arm around her and walked back to the sign-up booth, where a line was starting to form and Adam stood shifting from one foot to the next, clearly uncomfortable. “He looks scared to death.”

“I'm sure he hasn't worked a crowd for years, if ever. Suits, they think they know everything.” Darla stepped behind the table. “Form one line, people. Fill out your registration forms here, then turn them in to Adam and I'll hand you your shirt and entry number.”

I waved at Darla and stepped down to the Diamond Lille's booth. They weren't open yet, as they were sponsoring an after-race burger event, but Carrie and John, the evening chef, were in the booth setting up.

“Hey, Jill!” Carrie held up her cup with the CBM logo. “Thanks for opening on the beach this morning. I needed my caffeine.”

“No problem. Here to help out the addicted.” I picked up one of the to-go menus with a fridge magnet as a giveaway. “I should have thought of something like this. Cute idea.”

“Lille had them made up.” Carrie held up the magnet that had a picture of Diamond Lille's and a phone number. “She's all into promotion right now. I kind of miss the days when all I had to do was take orders and deliver food. Now it's all about the image.”

“You're a great server, what else is there?” I stuck a menu and magnet in my pocket to show to Aunt Jackie. We could make some up and deliver them to the local B&Bs with a list of staff-recommended books. Or even some of the other businesses in town . . . My mind wandered around the possibilities until I realized Carrie had answered my question. “Sorry, what?”