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7
SADIE
Maisie’s Diner was a fifties throwback, complete with black-and-white tiled floors, robin’s-egg blue walls, vinyl booths, and tons of chrome accents. The Please Seat Yourself sign faced out by the hostess stand, so I grabbed a booth and pulled a menu out from between the condiment caddy and the tabletop jukebox.
I perused the menu for the cheapest item I could find while mentally calculating my bank balance. My paycheck would get direct deposited on Monday, if I managed not to get fired before then.
A bubbly waitress with long black hair and blunt-cut bangs bounced over to my table and dropped a glass of ice water in front of me. “Coffee?” she asked. Her eyes were eerily similar to Mr. Mystery Homeowner’s. Her dark hair and creamy complexion gave her a Snow White look.
“Coffee would be amazing.” Hopefully whatever was in the water that made this town’s cup runneth over with beautiful people was also in their coffee.
“Coming right up. Do you know what you want, or do you need a minute?”
“What is the cheapest, most filling thing you can suggest?” Zero concerns about looking like a broke loser right here.
“If you get a coffee, the short stack of pancakes and the side of eggs, you’re not gonna leave hungry and it comes in just under five dollars. Cheaper than if you get any of the fancy skillet combos. I call it the ‘fixed income special,’ because it’s what all the retirees who come in at six a.m. order.”
“Perfect.” I grinned at her and slid the menu away. “I’ll do that.”
“You won’t be disappointed.” She smiled back, and after asking me how I wanted my eggs, she pegged me as a tourist. “What brings you to Kelly Bay?”
“Is it that obvious I’m not a local?”
“Oh, honey. I’ve lived here my whole life, I’d know if you were local.” Even though she looked to be about my age, she said it as if she were eighty years old and had watched several generations pass by.
“I’m here for the Bay Days Festival.”
“Little early for that, aren’t you? It doesn’t start for a few weeks.”
“I’m hoping to do a little research about it beforehand and then write up an article about it for my website.”
“Oh, are you one of those travel bloggers?”
“Something like that.” I opted not to drop HypeKey’s name yet. Sometimes people were willing to share gossip more freely if they didn’t know who I worked for.
“I know the perfect person to help you out. Let me get this in and I’ll be right back.”
She headed over to the counter, put in my order, and returned with a mug and coffee pot.
“How much research are you looking to do? Because Kobie Scott is on nearly every committee that ever existed, and if we need one that doesn’t exist, she’ll be forming and chairing it. She’s spearheading the festival this year, and there is nothing that girl loves more than singing Kelly Bay’s praises. So if there is anything you want to know about the festival, she’s your woman.”
“That’s perfect.” Finally, a freaking lucky break. “And you think she’d have time and be willing to talk to me?”
“Kobie makes time for everyone. I’ll give her a call. I’m Valerie, by the way.” She reached out with one hand to shake mine, while she whipped out her phone with the other and placed it to her ear.
“Oh, you’re calling her right now.” I shook her hand and looked around before lowering my voice. “Your boss won’t mind?”
“Pfft. What’s good for Kelly Bay is good for Maisie’s. Maisie won’t mind one—Kobie? It’s Val.” Mouthing be right back, she continued her call as she picked up the coffee pot and walked around the restaurant giving refills.
It was hard to believe a random stranger wanted to be this helpful. But if Kelly Bay thrived on tourism, I supposed it was in their best interest to encourage anyone who wanted to publicize the festival. Hopefully this Kobie person would be a resource both for background on the festival and whether rumors of any Everett sightings were true.
Between this potential lead and the impending caffeine about to hit my bloodstream, this morning was turning around. I poured cream into my coffee along with a couple of yellow sweetener packets and fished my phone out of my bag so I could check my messages.
Aileen: Hi darling. Please give me a call when you have a chance. This time of year is difficult for all of us, but we have each other to lean on. Thinking of you.
Ignoring that one for now. Bigger fish to fry.
Ward: I Venmo’d you some money. Odds are you won’t even have a microwave to heat up a Cup O’ Noodles in whatever dive Lauren ends up booking. I know you’d refuse if I asked, and I know you’re good for it, so don’t give me any shit about it.
