Read Online Shadows on the Sand by Gayle Roper - Free Book Online

going to happen here except lunch.”
    “But you haven’t told us what you saw.”
    And I wasn’t going to. “That’s because I think I should tell the police first.”
    There was another rumble but not of agreement. They saw me as unreasonable. I studied the motley crew of twenty- and thirty-somethings and Cilla who was old enough to know better, though I supposed she was the only one not cutting work to trail me. The older couple must have been smart enough to continue their walk to the boardwalk. The young mom was here, her two kids hanging from her legs.
    “Come on, guys. If you hang outside my door in a big clump, you’re going to scare off my customers.”
    They looked around as if searching for said customers and finding none.
    “They’ll be here,” I said somewhat defensively. “Lindsay’s quiche is famous in these parts.”
    “It’s wonderful,” Cilla agreed. “My favorite. You got tomato basil soup today? It’s Monday.”
    I gave her a faint smile and addressed the others. “Maybe you could waitacross the street by the drugstore.” People had to go in to get their medicine regardless of street crowds, right?
    “I’ll go in and get lunch,” Cilla said to the tweeters. “I’ll let you know if anything happens. Anything at all.” She waved her iPhone.
    There was a chorus of “Promise?” and one “You sure you know how to use that?”
    Cilla skewered the doubter with a steely look that had him taking a step backward.
    “Hey,” Number One said. “This is SweetCilla.” Like she was royalty.
    The doubter looked instantly impressed. “I’m so sorry. No disrespect intended.”
    Cilla waved a hand, forgiveness granted. Queen Cilla.
    As I let the door fall shut behind me, I nearly ran over Lindsay, Ricky, and Andi staring out at our visitors. Linds had her smartphone in her hand, and Ricky was standing too close to her under the guise of reading over her shoulder. His own phone was still in its holder clipped to his belt.
    Andi, pink phone in hand, vibrated with excitement. “You saw Chaz try to kill Greg?” Her hazel eyes were wide.
    “He was mad about being evicted, and he rammed the building.”
    “He wasn’t after Greg?” Linds held out her phone. “Cilla said it was attempted murder.”
    “She did, huh?” I replayed the scene in my mind, and I realized I couldn’t say whether Chaz wanted to harm Greg or not. He seemed nutty enough to do something that rash, but I didn’t
know
that was what he intended. If you’re nuts enough to ram a building with your shiny yellow Hummer, you might be crazy enough to go after a person too. But the word was
might
.
    “I don’t know,” I said, and the three looked disappointed.
    The door opened, and Cilla drove in. She smiled sweetly. “Don’t you worry, Carrie. I won’t bother you.”
    I gave her my hostess smile. “Take any seat you’d like.” I waved my hand to show her the possibilities, and there were many since no one in Seaside seemed to be taking an early lunch.
    “We follow you on Twitter, Ricky and I,” Lindsay told Cilla. “I’ve learned more about Seaside past and present from you than anyone else.”
    Cilla nodded, as regal as Elizabeth II, taking the compliment as her due. The only thing missing was the royal wave. “I just sit at my window or on the boardwalk and report what I see.”
    Even I recognized an understatement.
    Cilla rolled up to table two, her eyes sparkling with life and intelligence and her gray hair curled around her very attractive if somewhat wrinkled face. She was a widow, and I wondered why no man had stepped up to take Mr. Merkel’s place. Probably no one her age could keep up with her.
    “I’ll take Lindsay’s quiche with fruit on the side and a cup of tomato basil. Oh, and a sweet iced tea, BTW.”
    BTW? Give me a break!
    The door opened, and two of the texters came in.
    “You have to order food,” I said as I shooed my staff back to work.
    “We have to eat lunch sometime,” said the