For years, Gene lived in a sleepy little place called
Tinker’s Cove. She’d been working for a large company in the city when, on the
advise of her therapist, she had rented a cottage in the Cove for a month. During
that month she taught herself how to make jewelry, actually selling pieces
she’d made at the summer fair. With savings and some of the inheritance left by
her parents, she bought the cottage at the end of Old Beach Road. The only
other cottage belonged to an elderly woman who lost her husband to the sea over
fifty years ago. Mrs. Spooner’s garden was her pride and joy, winning first
prize every year. When asked what she used as fertilizer, she’d grin and say it
was a secret her husband taught her.
Once the summer tourists returned to their city lives, Gene
spent her evenings combing the beach for sea glass. She acquired boxes of it.
When the harsh winter winds and snow began to blow, Gene would begin making her
jewelry for next summer’s tourists.
Late one night, Gene was unable to sleep. Her mind was full
of new designs. Tea cup and sketchbook in hand, she took advantage of the Indian
summer night. The full moon was bright enough so a lamp wasn’t needed. Just as
she was getting up to get some sleep, she saw Mrs. Spooner, her apron covered
with blood and dragging a sack around to the back of her house. Looked like
Gene wasn’t the only one up in the Cove who couldn’t sleep.
The next morning there was breaking news, the mayor of
Tinker’s Cove was missing. Mayor Jacob Milner was also a mainland contractor
who had been trying to acquire parcels of land to build a large hotel. He
claimed it was to boost the economy in Tinker’s Cove. The locals claimed it was
to line his already bulging pockets. It was rumored he was now sending men from
the mainland to scare the residents into selling. Gene and Mrs. Spooner lived
on a parcel he wanted. After declining several offers, threats began coming.
Gene had hired an attorney to help her deal with the mayor. Mrs. Spooner had no
one to help her, but the spunky woman was holding on tight and refused to sell.
The newscaster was saying Mayor Milner had not been home the
previous evening. Mrs. Milner reported him missing when he didn’t return any of
the messages she’d left. His car, wallet and cellphone were still in the lot
behind his office. Burglary was not suspected. It was believe he had taken a
walk and stayed in one of his empty cottages. The news stated he was last seen
wearing faded jeans, a red plaid flannel jacket, and a pair of well worn work
boots. Anyone seeing the mayor was asked to notify the police chief.
Later that same day, Gene had made a special necklace for
Mrs. Spooner. It was made of light green sea glass; it was her favorite color.
Gene found Mrs. Spooner giving her garden the last of her special fertilizer
for the winter. Back at the edge of the property, the old woman’s burn barrel
was smoking. Gene saw a worn work boot leaning against the barrel. She gazed
from the barrel to Mrs. Spooner to the freshly sprinkled fertilizer in the
garden.
Mrs. Spooner chuckled. “Looks like we won’t be selling after
all. Come in for a cup of tea dear.”
