Chapter 2
Abbey sat down on her couch; her mind was whirling.
Jumping back up, she hurried to the kitchen.
Digging in one of the drawers, she found a notebook.
Hurrying to the hallway, she picked up the pen she had left there the other day.
Heading back to the couch, she plopped down.
Moving the pen to her right hand. “Body on the beach,” she wrote.
Why dump the body?
Who would want to kill Jimmy?
What did Jimmy know or do that got him killed?
That made her stop and think. If Jimmy found out something that got him killed, then she needed to be careful. If she asked the wrong people questions, then she could be in danger.
At present, only four people knew Jimmy was dead: Lily, Sirius, her, and the killer.
She needed to be careful while she was trying to find out who killed him.
It was then she acknowledged to herself that she was going to solve the murder.
She put the notebook and pen on the coffee table, pulling her feet up on the couch.
She was asleep the second she closed her eyes.
Abbey woke a couple of hours later. The sun was shining in her front window. She yawned, rubbing her eyes. She brushed her fingers through her messy hair. Getting up from the couch, she went to the bathroom. She washed her hands and face and brushed her long, dark hair.
Checking herself in the mirror, her clothes looked fine, even though she had slept in them. She went back to the living room and collected her bag and notebook. She locked her door and headed back to the village. She had questions to ask, and she wanted to start with a friend.
Abbey walked into the diner. She saw Lydia, her friend and employer, behind the counter, serving a customer.
Rick handed her a coffee without asking her for her order.
Having worked together for five months, they all knew each other’s orders.
She thanked him. There was no charge for employees, but she left a tip.
“Could I pick your brain when you get a minute?” she asked Lydia.
Lydia said, “Of course,” and Abbey took a seat at the back of the diner. There were already a couple of other customers waiting to be served. Abbey sipped her coffee and waited for Lydia to join her.
Abbey thought back to the first time she had found herself in Misty Vale. She had stood outside a bungalow. Looking around her, she didn’t know where she was or how she had gotten there. She had been shaking her head and muttering like a mad person when she had seen a woman walking towards her.
Lydia had introduced herself, and she asked Abbey if she knew where she was. Abbey had said Ballybunion. Lydia had taken her arm gently, and Abbey had felt so confused she had been grateful.
“Why don’t we walk back to the beach, and together, we will find your way home?” Lydia had said. Abbey had smiled, and she remembered how comforting those words had been.
Abbey had walked with Lydia, guiding her back to the beach. She saw houses she didn’t remember from Ballybunion, and then they arrived at the village. Abbey looked all around at the village stores and the bar.
“Where am I?” she had asked.
“Misty Vale,” Lydia had replied.
“So, we’re not in Ballybunion anymore?” Abbey asked. Relaxing, she had only lost track of directions when she had been walking on the beach. She didn’t remember a village called Misty Vale in the area, but she hadn’t been there since she was a child.
“Yes, that’s right, you’re not in Ballybunion anymore.” They were across from the diner. Lydia said, “Why don’t we have a coffee before I show you the way back?”
Abbey had agreed. The diner had a glass front and glass door.
Inside, there was a long counter with cakes and sandwiches behind a glass shield.
There was a blackboard at the back with specials listed.
Lydia had guided her to one of the small round tables that took up the space in front of the counter.
Each table had four chairs with cushioned seats in a variety of colours.
And individual menus sat on each table. The man behind the counter had come over, and they had ordered coffee.
Lydia had asked her to look around. Abbey hadn’t understood why, but she had glanced around the diner. She then looked back at Lydia, her brow furrowed.
“Look again,” Lydia told her. “Look closer. Look at the people.”
Abbey had looked. They were normal people. Then, looking at them again, she realised they didn’t look normal. They looked anything but normal.
Abbey pulled herself from her memories when Lydia sat down across from her.
“You look worried, what's the problem?” Lydia asked. Taking a mouthful of the coffee she had brought over with her.
“Jimmy Jones is dead,” Abbey said.
Lydia looked shocked. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I found his body on the beach in Ballybunion this morning. It was not a natural death. I am hoping to find out what happened. What do you know about him?”
Lydia gasped. “Not much,” she said. “He has lived here about ten years. He is the owner of McCafferty's Bar.”
Abbey nodded; she had known he was the owner of the bar.
“He is a werewolf, but he is not part of the clan.”
Abbey had suspected that Jimmy was a werewolf but hadn’t been sure.
When she had looked around at the people that first day, she had noticed that many of them were not normal or average.
If you saw the people of Misty Vale individually, nothing marked them as different.
But seeing them together, what you noticed most was that no one was average.
Everyone stood out. Some were stunningly beautiful; some were excessively muscular, and some had piercingly vivid eyes that seemed to glow. All had something that drew attention.
Jimmy had been muscular, and she had always assumed he was a werewolf but had never had it confirmed.
Contrary to the stories that she had read prior to arriving in Misty Vale, werewolves did not run in packs.
When she had met her first werewolf, she had asked her about her pack.
Belinda had been horrified and had declared that she was not a dog.
Belinda had informed her that she was a member of the local clan.
“Do you know anything else about Jimmy?” Abbey asked.
“Not much,” Lydia replied. “I know he was aggressive but protective. He had put himself in the position to protect people weaker than himself. It has made him several foes over the years.”
“Foes or enemies?”
“Foes, I think. I don’t know of anyone who would have wanted to kill him. But as I said, I didn’t know him very well. The staff at the bar probably know him best.”
The queue at the diner counter was starting to build up, and Rick needed help. Lydia excused herself to get back to work.
Abbey knew her next stop would be the bar.