Sandy Bay series Box Set 3 Page 3

  “A lead? What kind of lead?” Meghan inquired.

  “A lead on the getaway car,” he explained. “The security cameras outside of the theater have been recovered. A metallic purple car sped away from the movie theater only moments after Tom Doncaster was murdered, and we’re trying to figure out just exactly who was behind the wheel….”

  6

  If there was something that brought joy to Meghan’s heart, it was the opportunity to spend time with her dogs and see them happy. She couldn’t wait to have children of her own and having her twin dogs was the closest thing she had to exercising her maternal instincts.

  “Come on, my loves!” she called out to Fiesta and Siesta as they walked around the block. “It’s another sunny day, but the wind from the sea is too strong. We’re going to walk in town today!”

  The two little dogs barked good-naturedly as Meghan led them around the corner, and Meghan giggled as they wagged their little tails. “Good dogs! You are such good doggies!” she cooed.

  She walked the dogs down the main street of town and around the courthouse. Meghan was tired from a long day at the bakery, but happy to be out and about in the fresh air. She wandered aimlessly, lost in her thoughts, and was startled when she heard a deep voice behind her.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  Meghan turned around and looked up, realizing she was in front of the movie theater. A short, sandy-haired man squinted his eyes at her, and Meghan extended her hand. “I’m Meghan Truman! Sorry I didn’t see you there; I’ve been enjoying the nice day and didn’t even realize anyone was around.”

  The man laughed. “It’s not a problem. I’m Tim Dollar, the new manager of the movie theater. I was sent out here from the New York headquarters to make sure things are in order with the death of Mr. Doncaster. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Meghan smiled warmly. “Welcome to Sandy Bay. It’s a nice little town, so I’m sorry such terrible circumstances brought you here….”

  Tim shrugged. “That’s what happens. It’s all part of the job. Anyway, I was out here walking around the property when I saw you and your little dogs. They’re too cute.”

  Meghan grinned. “Thank you, Tim. They are the little loves of my life.”

  Tim’s face fell. “I had to leave my dog back in New York. I hope I can send for him soon.”

  Meghan gestured at her two dogs. “Well, if you need a fix of some furry friends, you can always borrow mine.”

  “Hey, are you Tim Dollar?”

  Meghan and Tim turned to see Ryan Branson, the owner of the local confectionary shop. Ryan was tall, with curly black hair and a matching beard, and he was smiling as he approached the pair.

  “You must be Mr. Branson,” Tim said as he reached to shake Ryan’s hand. “We’ve spoken over the phone so much this week that I would recognize your voice anywhere. How are you?”

  Ryan nodded. “I’m well,” he replied. “Glad to catch you. Welcome to town. Meghan? How are you doing?”

  Meghan smiled at Ryan. He was one of her primary suppliers for little candies and sweets to garnish her desserts, and she had always enjoyed his company. “I’m great, Ryan. Just getting to know Sandy Bay’s newest resident. It’s nice to have a bright spot amidst all of the trouble we’ve had in town lately with Tom Doncaster’s death.”

  Meghan saw Ryan’s face darken at the mention of Tom Doncaster. “Tom was a friend of mine,” Ryan murmured as Meghan’s heart sank. “We grew up together; he always supported my dream of opening the confectionary, and he was the one who recommended my business to the cinema’s head office in the first place. I’ve been supplying the theater with candy for years.”

  Meghan hung her head and reached for Ryan’s arm. She gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” she whispered to Ryan. “It’s terrible to lose friends. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Tim nodded, his face sympathetic. “Terribly sorry for your loss, man.”

  Ryan shrugged and brushed a stray curl from his forehead. “It is what it is,” he said. “I wanted to talk with Tim about our continued partnership. I do hope that the theater will continue stocking the candy from my store?”

  Tim smiled brightly. “Let’s plan on meeting tomorrow morning to talk it through,” he answered.

  “Sounds great,” Ryan replied as he shook Tim’s hand. “Tim, Meghan, it was a pleasure.”

  As Ryan turned to leave, Tim rolled his eyes. “Maybe what this theater needs is change,” Tim muttered under his breath. “The New York office sent me here to clean up this mess, and I’m going to do everything it takes to turn this tragedy into a success. A whopping success, mind you.”

  Meghan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” she asked Tim. “What does Ryan have to do with any of that?”

  Tim bit his lip. “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he began. “But you’ve been such a nice person to talk with, and you seem to just understand things.”

  “Go on….” she implored as Tim crossed his arms across his chest.

  “Let’s just say that we will be making some changes to the theater under my management,” he explained. “We’ll be going in some….different directions. This theater is in shambles, and I will move mountains to fix this disaster, no matter what it takes.”

  7

  Meghan loved occasionally flicking through the local Sandy Bay Chronicle. She liked getting to know more about the town she now called home. She was pleasantly surprised when she once saw a piece about her bakery in it. This glowing article had identified her bakery as a wonderful place for residents of Sandy Bay to meet up and consume the finest treats in all of the Pacific Northwest. That single article had done wonders in attracting a new clientele base to Truly Sweet. That morning as she thumbed through the newspaper which a customer had left, she spotted a headline that caught her attention.

  Stress Identified as the Number One Killer Among Young People

  The article said that stress brought about by unrealistic expectations in young people due to social and economic pressures, was the number one factor in causing depression and ultimately a shorter life expectancy among young people. The article went on to say that stress could be overcome by maintaining a consistent exercise regime. Meghan closed the newspaper and took some time to analyze how she had been feeling since she had gotten the big Behzad order. She had found herself snapping at Trudy and being short with Jack on a few occasions. “Maybe I do need to exercise more,” she thought to herself. Just then, her phone rang. It was Karen.

  “Hello Sweetie, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be swinging by after my class this morning at the gym. Today’s bring-your-friend day but you’ve rejected my offer so many times that…”

  “I’ll come.”

  “What did you say Sweetie?”

  “I said I’ll come. I’ll change and meet you in the gym’s car park in thirty minutes.” Meghan hung up and let out a shout of victory. She was determined not to be a negative statistic and bounded up her stairs, after informing Trudy of her intentions, to change into some gym attire.

  “Look, I know what I’m talking about,” Karen declared as she and Meghan walked into Sandy Babe, the local gym. “I think Lawrence is a shady character, but don’t forget about Sheila, Tom’s wife! Like I told you, everyone knows that Sheila couldn’t stand her husband, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she had something to do with his death.”

  Meghan sighed as they signed in at the gym. She glanced around at the dozens of fit, leggings-clad women milling about the lobby, and Meghan was flooded with embarrassment. Meghan peered down at herself. Due to the bakery’s massive success, she had not had time to exercise much since moving to Sandy Bay, and she felt self-conscious as she stared at the fitness enthusiasts surrounding her.

  “Sheila loves this class,” Karen whispered in Meghan’s ear as the doors to the studio opened and the women began to file in. “I’m sure she’ll be here. You can get a good look at her, and then maybe we can talk with her
in the locker room after class.”

  Meghan and Karen walked into the studio and Meghan gasped. The room had bright, unflattering fluorescent lights, and three of the four walls were covered in floor-length mirrors. “You said that I wouldn’t feel embarrassed,” Meghan hissed, as Karen directed them to the front of the room. “This lighting is terrible; every curve of my body is out there for the world to see, and I can’t escape my own reflection in all of the mirrors.”

  Karen shook her head. “Once the music starts and we begin the circuits, you’ll snap out of it; this is a no-judgement zone, Meghan. Just enjoy the class!”

  Meghan frowned, but she took a moment to be grateful that she had a relatively healthy, strong body that would allow her to workout. “Even if I am not perfect, I am healthy and young and happy,” Meghan whispered to herself.

  “What did you say?” Karen asked as she adjusted her neon-colored sweatband.

  “Nothing,” she replied.

  “Well, if you’re interested, look up; Sheila just walked in,” Karen murmured.

  Meghan looked at the door as a lithe, elegant woman slipped into the room. Sheila was tall and slender, her hair cascading in loose waves down to her narrow waist. “She looks like a princess,” Meghan said in awe as Sheila glided to the other side of the room.”

  “I know,” Karen agreed. “Everyone was so confused when Princess Sheila married Tom, the movie manager. It just didn’t make sense.”

  “Hello, everyone!”

  Meghan turned to see a brawny, beaming blonde-haired man march into the room. All of the women perked up at his presence, and Meghan could see Sheila appeared to be especially enthralled.

  “Welcome to Sandy Babe Circuits, the best calorie-burning, booty-busting class in the Pacific Northwest,” the man announced to the crowd. “Do we have anyone new here? Come on, people. If you’re new to our bunch, raise your hand tall and proud. Give us a little wave.”

  Meghan did not raise her hand, but Karen grabbed Meghan’s wrist and lifted it into the air. “She’s new. This girl is new,” Karen announced. “This is Meghan Truman, my friend! She is new to class!”

  The instructor smiled at Meghan. “Thank you for letting us know, Karen. Meghan, welcome to the class. This will be a fun, fabulous workout, and we are so happy you are joining us today.”

  Meghan blushed, embarrassed to have been outed as a new member to the class, but pleased that the instructor was so encouraging. She adjusted her purple leggings and matching headband, ready for the fun that had been promised.

  “Alright everyone,” the instructor commanded. “Take your places.”

  Ten minutes into the workout, Meghan was heaving like an overweight hippo; her heart was racing, sweat was pouring from every crevice of her body, and she could no longer feel her feet. Meghan gasped for breath, and she was in too much pain to care that she was making a spectacle of herself.

  “Just keep going,” Karen urged Meghan as they bent down into a set of squats. “The first time is always the worst, but you look great.”

  “I….don’t….look….great,” Meghan choked as she saw her red-faced reflection in the mirror in front of her. “I….look….miserable….and….I...feel...miserable!”

  Thirty minutes into the workout, Meghan had to take a break; she pulled herself into a tiny ball on the floor, and she was mortified when the handsome instructor walked up beside her. “Up on your feet, girly!”

  Meghan shook her head. “I need a rest,” she pleaded as the instructor looked at her in disdain. “I feel awful.”

  The instructor looked at Meghan, and then over to Karen, who looked like she had stepped out of a sports magazine. “Your friend needs some pep in her step, Karen.”

  Karen was panting, but she had a smile on her face. “I keep telling her to work out with me, but she always says no.”

  The instructor grimaced. “Looks like she needs to say yes sometimes….”

  When the class had finally finished, Meghan could barely walk to the locker room. “That’s what you do every week?” Meghan asked Karen in amazement. “That was the hardest workout I’ve ever done, and I only managed to do half of it.”

  “I do it five times each week,” Karen said nonchalantly. “It keeps me young. Hey, look, Meghan. Sheila is packing up her bag over there. I’ll introduce you two.”

  Karen led Meghan over to the wooden bench where Sheila was loading her dirty luxury workout gear into a satin monogrammed bag. “Sheila? Sheila, so good to see you here. I’m so sorry for your loss,” Karen said softly as they approached.

  Sheila looked confused. “My loss?”

  Meghan raised an eyebrow. “Your husband?”

  Sheila laughed. “Oh, yes! My husband. Forgive me; the endorphins from the class just flooded my head. Thank you for the kind words, Karen. And Meghan, so happy you joined the class today.”

  Meghan smiled. “It was an adventure, that’s for sure.”

  Sheila tossed her wavy hair behind her shoulder. “This class has been my lifeline for years,” she admitted as Meghan and Karen leaned in. “My husband worked so much and was hardly ever home at night, and when I used to get lonely, I would come to this class just to have some company.”

  “Used to get lonely?” Meghan pried.

  Sheila sighed. “I think we all know what I mean,” she admitted. “It hasn’t been a secret that a certain instructor here has become very special to me. Do you know Tom couldn’t care less when he found out about me and my instructor? Sometimes though, I wonder what would have happened if Tom had been home more. Would I have even wandered into this gym? Would I have caught the eye of my fitness instructor? I don’t know, honestly….”

  Meghan’s stomach churned. She thought of Jack and his busy work schedule; he was often called into the police station in the middle of the night, and sometimes, she didn’t hear from him for days at a time. “Its work,” Jack would tell Meghan. “Work keeps me on my toes, beautiful!”

  Meghan, Sheila, and Karen walked into the lobby of the gym. The blonde instructor walked by the trio and winked at Sheila. Meghan’s jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered her composure.

  “I can’t help how I feel,” Sheila said softly as they walked out of the lobby and into the cool evening. “My husband was never home, girls. He was never around. I fell in love at that gym--with myself, with my body, and with my fitness instructor. I wish that things had been different. I wish that poor Tom were still with us. But I can’t change the past. And I’m going to live happily in the moment. And that moment is my new life, without my husband, a man who never managed to make his beautiful, bright wife happy. I have no regrets, girls. No regrets in the slightest.”

  Karen turned to Sheila and stared at her. “No regrets?”

  Sheila shrugged. “Everyone in town knows what I have done,” she confessed. “And let me just tell you girls something: when a wife is ignored, she has to do what she has to do to find her own happiness again. Let’s just say that I did what I had to do….”

  8

  Sheila’s cold words about the state of her marriage kept playing on a continuous loop in Meghan’s mind. She couldn’t imagine things deteriorating to that level in her relationship with Jack. The arrival of her least favorite person in Sandy Bay broke up her musings.

  “I told you, Meghan Truman,” Mrs. Sheridan screeched as she waved her cane up and down to destroy the arrangement of fresh gingerbread on the counter of Truly Sweet. “Gingerbread is bad luck! You and that Jack had gingerbread at the movies, and Tom Doncaster was killed! How can you bring this bad luck into your bakery at such a time? Shame on you.”

  Meghan’s dark eyes filled with tears as Mrs. Sheridan kicked one of her display cases. The fresh gingerbread cookies fell to the floor and crumbled, and Meghan shrieked. “Please,” Meghan pleaded as Mrs. Sheridan raised her cane. “Please, stop! Those cookies were for a new order, Mrs. Sheridan! The customers paid over the phone. I stayed up all night to make that gingerbread!”

  Mrs.
Sheridan scoffed. “I don’t care,” she declared to Meghan. “I told you that gingerbread is bad luck, and you went and filled your bakery with GINGERBREAD. It’s like you are asking for bad luck to sneak up and bite you on the bottom, Meghan Truman, and I won’t stand for it.”

  Meghan balled her hands into fists, thinking of the sleepless night she had spent preparing the last minute order. “Mrs. Sheridan,” she murmured. “You’ve ruined my order. What else do you want?”

  Mrs. Sheridan stared at Meghan. “I want you to understand that gingerbread should not be in this town,” she explained to Meghan as her eyes flashed in anger. “Ever since I was a little girl, anytime gingerbread has been around, there has been trouble! You listen to old Mrs. Sheridan, Meghan. I know what I am talking about.”