Chapter 1
Lottie Carlucci loved summer on the boardwalk. She owned a small ice-cream stand with her sister in Wildwind, New Jersey. As a seasonal business, she prayed for as many hot, sunny days as possible. Once Labor Day rolled around, the crowds dwindled and life slowed to a crawl. Business was good when the weather cooperated.
On the hottest days of the summer, when the thermostat climbed into the nineties, lines swelled and her register’s till filled with cash.
They sold waffle cones, pretzel cones, twists, soft serve, and a smattering of new milkshake flavors. Sugar cones, cake cones, and cones dipped in sprinkles were the favorites.
Open from noon until midnight, everything revolved around the Twisted Sisters Ice Cream stand. Lottie lived and breathed ice cream and the salty air of the shore.
Things were looking good. The forecast predicting a fabulous week of weather. She was ready to start the season with a bang. After the mess of Memorial Day, Lottie was good and ready to put it behind her. Carla, her niece, was safely out of harm’s way and things were returning to normal.
The boardwalk stores and arcade owners were a tightly-knit community. There were a few that didn’t want to be bothered with networking, but word traveled at light speed when something big was going on. When rent increased faster than it should have, they banded together and took a stand, negotiating a better deal. And when a fire broke out at one of the arcades, they came together and held a fundraiser to help the owner until insurance kicked in and paid for the repairs. They stuck together. Newer shop owners were hesitant at first, but eventually came around.
Of course, there were the investors who never came around and just threw money into their business. They were hands-off, not wanting to be bothered. One of the boardwalk piers was like that. Of the three, one offered a large assortment of kiddie rides and big rollercoasters for older enthusiasts. The owner wanted nothing to do with the ins-and-outs of the beach town or boardwalk life. He collected his money and went back to his city.
Lottie rolled up the metal-gated-door that covered the shop while they were closed. The day looked to be a good one. It was already sweltering hot. With the humidity pushing through the roof, beachgoers would be looking for a cool treat.
Giuseppe, Lottie’s nephew, was on the schedule for the first half of the day. He’d work until six o’clock, and then a local girl they’d hired would work the second shift with her. As much as the summer heat drove traffic to the ice cream stand, evenings on the boardwalk were a game changer. Crowds doubled at night, easily tripling over the weekend when day-trippers made their way to the shore.
Jane Vanzetti shuffled over from the fudge and taffy shop on seeing Lottie. “Did you hear the news? Scott’s shop got hit last night.”
“What?” Lottie shook her head, as if it would clear marbles out of her ears.
“Scott’s Scubarubin’ Scuba Shop was burglarized last night,” she whispered, not wanting others to hear. It wasn’t good business for tourists to hear about local crimes. It made them nervous. “I came in early to get a couple of new batches going for the weekend, and I saw him talking to the cops. I asked about it after they left. That’s when he told me. They made a mess and cleaned him out. Thankfully, he didn’t leave much in the shop and made a deposit when he closed up.”
Lottie watched her friend wrap her arms tightly around her body. As the words sank in, she found herself standing in much the same way. There hadn’t been any burglaries on the boardwalk in a while. She hoped it was a solitary act and things would end there. She made a mental note to empty the till – just in case. She took most of the money home, but sometimes left a drawer ready in case she couldn’t make it in time to open, and someone else covered.
“I should get back. I’ll talk to you later,”
Lottie Carlucci loved summer on the boardwalk. She owned a small ice-cream stand with her sister in Wildwind, New Jersey. As a seasonal business, she prayed for as many hot, sunny days as possible. Once Labor Day rolled around, the crowds dwindled and life slowed to a crawl. Business was good when the weather cooperated.
On the hottest days of the summer, when the thermostat climbed into the nineties, lines swelled and her register’s till filled with cash.
They sold waffle cones, pretzel cones, twists, soft serve, and a smattering of new milkshake flavors. Sugar cones, cake cones, and cones dipped in sprinkles were the favorites.
Open from noon until midnight, everything revolved around the Twisted Sisters Ice Cream stand. Lottie lived and breathed ice cream and the salty air of the shore.
Things were looking good. The forecast predicting a fabulous week of weather. She was ready to start the season with a bang. After the mess of Memorial Day, Lottie was good and ready to put it behind her. Carla, her niece, was safely out of harm’s way and things were returning to normal.
The boardwalk stores and arcade owners were a tightly-knit community. There were a few that didn’t want to be bothered with networking, but word traveled at light speed when something big was going on. When rent increased faster than it should have, they banded together and took a stand, negotiating a better deal. And when a fire broke out at one of the arcades, they came together and held a fundraiser to help the owner until insurance kicked in and paid for the repairs. They stuck together. Newer shop owners were hesitant at first, but eventually came around.
Of course, there were the investors who never came around and just threw money into their business. They were hands-off, not wanting to be bothered. One of the boardwalk piers was like that. Of the three, one offered a large assortment of kiddie rides and big rollercoasters for older enthusiasts. The owner wanted nothing to do with the ins-and-outs of the beach town or boardwalk life. He collected his money and went back to his city.
Lottie rolled up the metal-gated-door that covered the shop while they were closed. The day looked to be a good one. It was already sweltering hot. With the humidity pushing through the roof, beachgoers would be looking for a cool treat.
Giuseppe, Lottie’s nephew, was on the schedule for the first half of the day. He’d work until six o’clock, and then a local girl they’d hired would work the second shift with her. As much as the summer heat drove traffic to the ice cream stand, evenings on the boardwalk were a game changer. Crowds doubled at night, easily tripling over the weekend when day-trippers made their way to the shore.
Jane Vanzetti shuffled over from the fudge and taffy shop on seeing Lottie. “Did you hear the news? Scott’s shop got hit last night.”
“What?” Lottie shook her head, as if it would clear marbles out of her ears.
“Scott’s Scubarubin’ Scuba Shop was burglarized last night,” she whispered, not wanting others to hear. It wasn’t good business for tourists to hear about local crimes. It made them nervous. “I came in early to get a couple of new batches going for the weekend, and I saw him talking to the cops. I asked about it after they left. That’s when he told me. They made a mess and cleaned him out. Thankfully, he didn’t leave much in the shop and made a deposit when he closed up.”
Lottie watched her friend wrap her arms tightly around her body. As the words sank in, she found herself standing in much the same way. There hadn’t been any burglaries on the boardwalk in a while. She hoped it was a solitary act and things would end there. She made a mental note to empty the till – just in case. She took most of the money home, but sometimes left a drawer ready in case she couldn’t make it in time to open, and someone else covered.
“I should get back. I’ll talk to you later,”
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