Ocean Blues Read online

  Ocean Blues

  A Pastor Clarissa Abbot Mystery

  by

  Glen Ebisch

  For John Mahon and Ellen Macleod Mahon: avid readers, fine writers, and good friends.

  Chapter One

  Clarissa got out of bed and stretched. She walked over to the front window of the Victorian parsonage and looked out at the trees, a few of which were already beginning to get a hint of fall color by late September. Since she had only been the minister at Shore Side Community Church since the beginning of summer, Clarissa was curious as to what the changing seasons would reveal in the oceanside community. She had never experienced fall and winter at the beach.

  After she had showered and dressed, she made her way down to the kitchen, where she knew Mrs. Gunn, the cook and housekeeper, would be ready to prepare breakfast and probably already be working on one of the improbably large lunches and dinners she insisted that Clarissa consume. The young minister’s slender waistline was a serious source of concern to the older woman, who took it as a sign of ill health.

  “Would you want two eggs and toast for breakfast this morning?” Mrs. Gunn asked hopefully.

  “One egg will be fine, thanks,” Clarissa said, pouring a cup of coffee and settling in at the kitchen table with the morning newspaper. Her predecessor, Reverend Hollingsworth, had always used the large table in the dining room and demanded a more formal presentation, but Clarissa liked the homey atmosphere of the kitchen.

  Mrs. Gunn shook her head sadly at her inability to sell the second egg. As Clarissa leafed through the paper, she noticed that Mrs. Gunn seemed to be working unusually close to her and with rather exaggerated hand movements. It took a moment, but then Clarissa noticed a bright flash on the woman’s ring finger.

  “Is that an engagement ring?” Clarissa said.

  Mrs. Gunn smiled girlishly. “Joe Morgan popped the question last night outside the fish taco stand. He even got down on one knee. It was very romantic, although I was afraid for a moment I was going to have to help him up.”

  Clarissa grinned. “And I guess you accepted.”

  The woman looked thoughtful. “I’ve got to admit that I wasn’t sure about it for a moment. After all, Mr. Gunn has only been dead for three years. It didn’t seem quite loyal to his memory. But I’m getting on to seventy, and there might not be many more chances for love, so to speak. I don’t really mind being alone, but I like being part of a couple better.”

  “I’m sure you made the right choice. When is the big day?”

  “I told Joe I didn’t think we even needed an engagement at our age, but he really wanted a chance to give me a ring. He said I’d never accept one under any other circumstances, and I figure he’s right. So I agreed to the engagement, but said that we shouldn’t wait too long. So we’ve decided on three months. Right at the beginning of January things get real slow around here, and we won’t have any trouble finding a place for our wedding reception. And it will also give us plenty of time to invite our friends and family to the wedding.” She reached over and touched Clarissa on the shoulder. “Of course, we’d want you to officiate.”

  “I’d be honored,” Clarissa said with a smile, getting up to give her a big hug. For once the woman allowed herself to be embraced.

  “Now if we could only find a man for you,” she said, after Clarissa had released her. “Have you made any progress in choosing between your two beaus?”

  Clarissa shook her head. “I’ve gone out with both Andrew and Tyler a couple of times. Andrew is a nice guy and we seem to get along pretty well. Being a lawyer in town, it would be pretty easy for us both to settle down here.” Clarissa frowned. “I’m just not sure the chemistry is quite right.”

  The older woman nodded. “Yes, there has to be a spark. There must have been a spark between you and Tyler at one time at least. After all, you were engaged for a couple of years.”

  “That problem is more of a practical one. You know the story. We were both in seminary and promised that whoever got the better job the other one would follow him or her to their posting. I got the better job, and he refused to come along. Instead he took a job at another church as an assistant pastor. I felt let down. I still do.”

  “But he left that job and came down here to work with kids just to be near you. That means something,” Mrs. Gunn said with a wistful smile. Clarissa suspected that Mrs. Gunn had a weak spot for the dark and brooding Tyler. A lot of women did.

  “True. But I sometimes feel that much of what Tyler and I felt for each other was a result of our being students together. You get excited about the future and want to share it with somebody.”

  “You don’t feel that way now?”

  Clarissa shrugged. “School is behind me. I’m a pastor and on my own. I’m not sure how I see my future.”

  “You’re not getting any younger,” Mrs. Gunn warned.

  “I’m only twenty-seven; that’s hardly ancient.”

  “No, but take it from me, the years can slide by pretty fast when you’re not looking. But I understand when you’re young and everything is new, you expect more.”

  “Do I expect too much?” Clarissa asked.

  Mrs. Gunn frowned then gave her a gentle smile. “I can’t answer that. But I expect it’s better to expect too much than too little.”

  Chapter Two

  After finishing breakfast, Clarissa walked along the short sidewalk to her office behind the church, enjoying the cooler weather after the oppressive heat and humidity of the summer. Ashley Reynolds, her administrative assistant, was already at her desk, wearing one of her typical Goth outfits: a black sweater over a black blouse with black stockings and shoes. Her hair was dyed a deep black, only relieved by a slash of purple down the middle. Clarissa wondered, as she often did, how the congregation would react to having Ashley as secretary if her aunt, Mona Williams, wasn’t a long-time, active member of the church. Sometimes tolerance, like success, depends on who you know.

  “Glad you finally got here, Boss,” Ashley said with a glint of excitement in her eyes.

  Clarissa automatically checked her watch and saw she was five minutes late. “I was talking with Mrs. Gunn. She got engaged to Joe Morgan last night.”

  Ashley gave her a look that said she was behind the times. “I knew that last night. My aunt told me.”

  Once again Clarissa was amazed at the speed of the church grapevine to convey news to the older members.

  “So what’s so important?” Clarissa asked.

  “You got a call from Sylvia Drummond.”

  Clarissa paused for a moment trying to put the name to a face.

  “You know her. She’s the one who always comes on Sunday wearing a big flowery dress like a hippie out of the sixties. Course she’s old enough to have been one,” said Ashley with the disdain of someone in her early twenties.

  “I know who you mean,” Clarissa said.

  “Well, she wants you to perform an exorcism.”

  Clarissa frowned. “I think she called the wrong place. That’s more up Father Molloy’s alley.”

  “Yeah, I told her that, but she said that since she’s not Catholic, she figured you’d be the next best thing.”

  Clarissa sighed. The day had seemed to be starting off so well, and now this.

  “Did she tell you why she needs an exorcism?”

  “The usual. She’s got a ghost or a spirit or something that’s haunting her place.”

  “Half of the houses in Shore Side are said to be haunted. It helps attract tourists.”

  “Right. And it’s helped Sylvia make money at the Shipwreck Inn. That place is supposed to be haunted by the ghost of an old sea captain whose ship went down right off the coast over a hundred years ago. His name was Captain Boudreau, and he lived in the hous
e. Apparently his wife was up on the widow’s walk and saw it happen. He’s supposed to walk up and down the halls at night looking for his wife.”

  Clarissa gave a little shiver. “That’s a very sad story, but why is this haunting suddenly a problem if it’s been going on for years?”

  “Well, according to Sylvia, the sea captain has stopped being satisfied with just walking around making noise. Four days ago, Sylvia’s granddaughter, Tracy, who lives and works at the inn, said something pushed her late at night and she ended up in the linen closet.”

  “Was she hurt?”

  “She was pretty shaken up according to Sylvia. But I guess it was nothing too serious.”

  “Did she see who pushed her?”

  “That’s the thing. She swears the hallway behind her was empty, and she didn’t hear anyone.”

  “And this was at night?”

  “Just after eleven. The granddaughter had left her room on the third floor and was on the second floor getting out some sheets to make up the beds for the next day when it happened.”

  “Maybe she was just sleepy,” Clarissa said.

  “Tracy says she clearly felt a hand on her back.”

  “That’s odd but it hardly proves there’s an angry ghost.”

  Ashley held her hand up and grinned. “But wait, there’s more.” She looked down at some notes. “Last night one of the guests staying there, a Denise Lambson, was coming in at about eleven. Her room is on the second floor. She had just opened the door to her room when something shoved her inside and shut the door behind her.”

  “Did she see who it was?”

  “By the time she got to her feet and opened the door, the hallway was empty.”

  “Was she hurt?”

  “Just shaken up and a little scared. Sylvia says that she’s having fun telling everyone about it around the breakfast table right now.”

  “There isn’t much I can do if Sylvia sees this as a supernatural event. I don’t do exorcisms. I could do a house blessing if that would put her mind at rest.”

  “I guess that might help,” Ashley said doubtfully and paused.

  “What’s the matter?” Clarissa asked.

  “Well, do you believe in ghosts?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it seriously,” Clarissa said. “I’ve never seen any, so I have no reason to believe that they’re real. But I know lots of other people claim they have had the experience. I guess I’m undecided.”

  “Yeah, well I think the most likely explanation here is that we have someone who isn’t any more ghostly than you or me wandering around the inn at night, shoving people when they’re not looking. Aren’t you curious about who that might be and what they’re up to?”

  “Are you saying that you want me to get involved in another mystery? Wasn’t the last time enough?”

  “You’d be helping out a member of the congregation. Sylvia sounded pretty upset.”

  “I’ll think about it and decide what to do, if anything.”

  “You should at least go to see her. I said you would.”

  Clarissa rolled her eyes.

  “Maybe you could suggest the house blessing while you’re there.”

  “Okay, since you’ve committed me, I’ll go see her. Maybe I can at least ease her concerns.”

  Clarissa went into her office and settled behind the large mahogany desk, which, along with the wood paneled walls, was a legacy from Reverend Hollingsworth, who had loved the English gentleman’s library look. He’d left rather suddenly four months ago to retire near his son in Pennsylvania. Some said the widower had left to escape the attentions of his secretary, Mrs. Dalrymple. Others thought he took off before being implicated in a questionable land scheme. Clarissa had only met the man briefly when she first arrived in Shore Side. From what she could tell he’d been a bit full of himself and loved to play the role of spiritual leader of the flock.

  Clarissa took out a pen and began to think about a topic for Sunday’s sermon. She liked to do her heavy thinking on Monday, so she could get down some ideas that she would spend the remainder of the week writing and perfecting. More experienced ministers could recycle their old sermons, but this was a luxury she didn’t have. She had just begun to jot down some ideas when the phone rang.

  “Lieutenant Baker is on the line. He’d like to speak with you,” Ashley said.

  Lieutenant Baker was a police detective who was also a member of the congregation. Clarissa had worked with him to solve the murder of a church member just a few months ago. With a sinking feeling, she wondered what he wanted now.

  “Good morning, Pastor,” Baker said when she answered the phone. “Sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got a guy here who says you know him. A man named Tyler Hamilton.”

  “Yes. I know him,” she said, wondering why Tyler would be at the police station.

  “Well, he’s asking to see you. I told him he’d be better off using his call to get a lawyer, but you’re the one he wants to see.”

  “A lawyer? Is he in trouble?”

  “I guess you could say that. He’s been arrested—for murder.”

  Chapter Three

  Clarissa found a slot in the parking lot behind the Shore Side municipal center. She entered the building through the back door and went up the hall to the front where the police department was located. Walking into the office and up to the counter, she was pleased to see that Officer Rudinski was on duty. She’d met him during her last involvement in a local crime, and knew he liked her. Being pretty much the same age, they hit it off, although he seemed to have some trouble with the idea of a female minister, not knowing whether to treat her with reverence or genuine attraction.

  “Good morning, Clarissa,” he said, whispering her name as if he was secretly stepping out of bounds by using it.

  “Hi, Roger. I’m here to see Lieutenant Baker.”

  “Right,” he said, his eyes suddenly darting away from hers, and a look of sadness crossing his face as if he just remembered why she was there. “I’ll see if he’s available.”

  He picked up the phone and told whoever answered that Pastor Abbot was there for Lieutenant Baker. He listened for a moment, and then nodded.

  “Lieutenant Baker will be right out,” he said with a suddenly official smile.

  Clarissa had hardly settled into the wooden bench across from the counter when a door opened and Josh Baker came out into the waiting room. He smiled tentatively. “You can come with me, Pastor.”

  Clarissa followed him down the hall to his office where she’d been once before. She sat in the plastic chair next to his desk.

  “You said Tyler is being accused of murder. Whom is he supposed to have killed?” Clarissa began quickly, trying to sound firm but not confrontational.

  Baker pulled a folder across his desk and placed it in front of him. He opened it, but seemed to have the contents memorized. “Samuel Cryer, a sixteen-year-old junior in high school, who lived here in Shore Side. Tyler Hamilton was found standing over the body outside of the Slipped Anchor Bar.”

  “I’m not familiar with the place.”

  “No reason you should be. It’s a local hangout for regular drinkers, not the sort of place you’d go.”

  She bristled slightly at his assumption about where she’d go, but figured he was probably right.

  “The murdered boy worked in the kitchen.”

  “How did Tyler end up standing over the boy’s body?”

  Baker ran a hand over his grey crew cut. “He claims that he had agreed to meet Cryer out in front of the bar at nine o’clock. Apparently the boy goes to a mission for at-risk youth that’s up in North Shore Side. Hamilton works there and that’s how he knew him. Hamilton claims that when he got to the bar no one was waiting. He says that he walked up and down in front of the bar for a few minutes, then went up a narrow alley and found the boy lying there. Hamilton picked up a tire iron that was on the ground next to the body and that’s when the manager came out of the kitchen and saw him the
re. He called the police.”

  Lieutenant Baker sat silently for a moment, staring at her as if expecting a comment.

  “It could have happened that way,” Clarissa said.

  Baker shrugged. “Picking up the murder weapon is odd.”

  “I’m sure innocent people do all sorts of odd things without thinking because they’re under stress.” Clarissa paused. “So Samuel Cryer was someone Tyler worked with at the mission?”

  Baker nodded. “That’s what he says. He claims the boy gave him a call at around six and said that he was in trouble and needed to see him. We haven’t found the boy’s cell phone.”

  “All of this sounds pretty plausible. The boy would naturally call him for help. And after all, why would Tyler have wanted to kill the boy?”

  “That’s what we’re looking into.”

  “I hope you’re also looking into the possibility that someone other than Tyler Hamilton murdered the boy.”

  Baker’s face softened. “Look, Clarissa, no one is trying to railroad anyone here. We’ll look into all the possibilities.”

  “Then why has Tyler already been arrested for murder?”

  “Because he was found standing over the body holding the murder weapon. We can’t ignore that.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Downstairs in a holding cell. He’ll be appearing before a judge this afternoon where he’ll be formally charged and a decision will be made regarding bail.”

  “Does he have a lawyer?” asked Clarissa.

  “He said he didn’t know anyone, so a public defender will be seeing him later this morning.”

  “I might be able to arrange a lawyer for him.” Clarissa wasn’t sure how happy Andrew would be to represent his romantic competition, but it was worth a try. Andrew at his worst would probably do a better job than some overworked public defender.

  “That would be fine.” Lieutenant Baker gave her a long look. “How do you happen to know this Tyler Hamilton, Pastor?”

  “He’s a minister.”

  Baker’s eyes opened wide. “He didn’t mention that to us.”