“Mornin’ Larry!” shouted Tom Timmerman from half a block away.
“Good morning, Tom!” Larry shouted back. It was the morning of Bayberry Cove’s annual Pumpkin Festival, and Larry knew most of the town was already awake preparing for the night’s festivities – even if it was only six o’clock in the morning.
“Ready for the big night?” Tom asked, his voice still booming.
“Oh, ready as I’ll ever be,” Larry smiled with fake enthusiasm. Every passing day moved the town one day closer to discovering the truth. The old journals Sam dug up explained the progression was slow. Without someone specifically mentioning the curse, it could take weeks or months for people to realize they were prisoners in paradise. But once a person was clued into his condition – the way Sam, Larry, Max, Jed, Bobby, and Caroline had been – there was no turning back. All six swore an oath the previous night to keep the secret as long as humanly possible. They needed time to form a game plan. Max needed time to scout his prey.
“Mornin’, sheriff,” Roxanne said enthusiastically. “You havin’ the regular?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Larry answered.
“And where is that sweet thang of yours this mornin’? I haven’t seen Anne in darn near two days.”
“Oh, you know her, Roxanne. My better half is probably out there uncovering tonight’s lead story.”
Roxanne poured Larry a mug of hot, black coffee. “The only story gonna be on the news tonight is the big festival! Heck, you know that as well as anyone, sheriff.”
Larry hoped Roxanne was right. His wife was smart – too smart. If anyone could uncover what was happening in Bayberry Cove, it was her. “Well, let’s just hope we have a peaceful night,” he said.
“Not too peaceful, or I might be outta job.” Larry’s wife walked into the coffee shop and startled her husband by speaking before she was in his line of sight. “Then who would pay all our bills?” Anne asked mockingly as she kissed Larry on the cheek.
“Hey, sweetie,” he replied before taking another swig of his coffee. “What brings you in so early?”
“Like you guys said, I’m out looking for tonight’s big story. Got any hot leads?”
If she only knew, Larry thought.
“No hot leads, dear, but I do got some hot coffee,” interrupted Roxanne. “Would ya like a cup?”
“Oh, that would be great, Roxy.” Anne waited for the plump barista to walk away, then spoke softly to Larry. “I need to talk to you.”
“What about?”
“Once I get my coffee, just follow me over to one of the tables.”
“Ok,” Larry said calmly. Inside, his stomach churned with fear.
A few minutes later, the married couple sat at a secluded table in the back corner of the coffee shop. Customers came and went, in search of a shot of energy to power them through the day’s preparations. A few people waved to Larry and Anne as they spoke, but no one stopped long enough to become a nuisance.
“What's this about, Annie?”
“Something weird is going on around here, Larry.”
The coffee tasted bitter on his lips. “Weird? What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m crazy. Maybe I’m just imagining the whole thing, but something feels different.”
This wasn’t supposed to be happening – not yet, anyway. The journals claimed it would be weeks or months before people started putting the pieces together on their own. Had someone talked to Anne? Or were her investigative reporting instincts finally kicking into overdrive? “Well, sweetie, I’m not really sure what you’re talking about. Are you sure you’re feeling ok?” Larry felt tortured lying to his wife. There had never been a need to deceive her in the past, but these circumstances were bigger than their marriage. The entire town was in danger. Bayberry Cove’s existence was in jeopardy.
“I’m feeling fine, Larry. I don’t know. Don’t you feel anything?” she asked with desperation in her voice.
Larry sighed. “I feel nervous about tonight.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. “I always get a little tense about these festivals. Nothing usually goes wrong, but you never know.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s just the festival.” Anne paused to consider her own diagnosis. “Will you do me a favor?” she asked.
“Sure, anything,” Larry replied. Anything except telling the truth, he thought.
“If anything strange happens, will you let me know? Not because I’m after a story, but just for my own sanity.”
“Of course, sweetie. But what counts as strange around Bayberry Cove?”
Just then, the front door of Roxanne’s coffee shop flew open. Luanne from the bakery stood in the doorway, breathless from her jog across the street.
“Sheriff, come quick!” she shouted.
“Luanne, calm down,” Larry said as he stood. She took a deep breath. “Now, tell me what’s got you so excited?
“Something terrible is happening, sheriff! You have to come right away!”
Larry looked at his wife. Anne sat on the edge of her seat.
“Luanne, what is it? What's the terrible thing that's happened?”
Luanne could barely find the words through her wheezing. “It’s Charlie, sheriff. Some kids found him washed up on shore, and he’s been hurt. He’s been hurt real bad!”
Larry looked at his wife again. “Sweetie, something strange just happened.”
