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ChapterEleven
“…so of course he’s a genius.” Pearl finished her rundown of her five-year-old grandson’s intellectual abilities with a self-deprecating laugh. “Honestly, Bee, it’s ridiculous how much you can love a child or a grandchild. It’s like we’re too small to contain all that emotion.”
Bee smiled, deflecting the painful twinge in her heart. She’d been the recipient of that kind of parental love for the first five years of her life, and while she told herself she was lucky to have experienced it at all, she would always have an ache of longing for what she’d lost.
At the same time, she was happy to know it really did exist in the world, and that good people like Pearl could reap all of its joys.
“I saw the picture of his birthday party that you posted.” She rose from the rickety table in her kitchen and picked up her coffee mug. “How long did it take you to set up all those science experiments?”
Pearl chuckled. “Not long at all, actually. Those are all from the Mad Scientist Night we used to have at the library. Slime, elephant toothpaste, Coke and Mentos rockets, lava lamps. I just dug it all up from our curriculum. Don’t you have those anymore?”
“No.” Bee set her mug in the sink with a sigh. “Remember I had to allocate a big part of the budget to fix the water damage from those bad winter storms we had a couple of years ago? Well, Mad Scientist Night had to go. I approached the town council for funding, but they wanted to put their budget toward equipment for the high school science lab instead. Which I can understand, but…well, our programming budget is getting thinner every year.”
“That will change as soon as theHex or Hoax?episode airs,” Pearl said with such conviction that Bee experienced a rush of gratitude. “How is the filming going?”
Bee told her about the crew’s professionalism and her somewhat disillusioning encounters with Clyde Constantine, but she avoided talking about Adam at all, much less his debunker worldview. She didn’t want Pearl to think she’d made a mistake in inviting the Explorer Channel into the library.
“I’m also doing more research about Captain Marcus to figure out why his ghost is still at the library,” she explained. “I know we both always thought it was because he just loved the house so much he didn’t want to leave, but I’m starting to realize that doesn’t make sense. Ghosts want to complete their unfinished business and move on to the next realm.”
“I’ve heard that too.”
“So what could it have been for Captain Marcus?”
“I don’t know.” Pearl’s voice held a shrug. “No one’s ever asked. Remember, he died when he was only forty years old, so it could have been any number of things. He had a contentious relationship with his younger brother, so maybe he wanted to resolve a feud? I don’t think it would have been business-related since his company was doing quite well at the time of his death. But he had a lot of friends, of course. Maybe he was having trouble with one of them, or with someone in town. Not everyone in town loved his influence or the fact that he fought to save the boardwalk when most of the townspeople wanted to expand the shipping port.”
Something nudged the back of Bee’s mind. “And they wanted to tear down the boardwalk?”
“Oh, yes. There was a big to-do about it. You can read the editorials and stories inThe Bliss Cove Timesarchives. Another company wanted to get rid of the boardwalk and expand the port to allow more shipping traffic, and John Marcus fought against it. In fact, he actually bought up that whole stretch of coastline to save the boardwalk, even though his company would have benefited substantially from an expanded port. He also put his own money toward having the lighthouse rebuilt when it needed repair. I think there’s a letter to his brother back East in which he says the boardwalk is too important to the town and its people. And to him.”
“Why was it so important?”
“He never said anything specific,” Pearl said. “Maybe because his nieces and nephews spent so much time there? Or because it was a fun place to enjoy a Saturday afternoon? He was all about providing venues for families and children to be together and have fun, so that could be why. He advocated for the creation of Wildwood Park, he was on the committee for the Christmas and Harvest Festivals, and he hosted an All Hallows’ Eve party every year he lived here. He was one of the reasons the town became what it is. He even came up with the name Bliss Cove.”
Bee tapped her fingers on the edge of the sink and stared out the window at the parking lot several stories below. “Do you know why he chose the name?”
“I don’t.” Pearl sounded vaguely surprised. “I suppose I’ve always thought he just felt blissful here. The Historical Museum has the original signed paperwork related to the founding of the town, so that might provide some insight.”
“I’ll look into it, thanks.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before Pearl had to leave to take her grandson to swimming lessons. Since Bee didn’t need to be at the library until one, she fed Edgar and drove over to the Historical Museum.
The curator, Edith, agreeably brought out the archival boxes containing the original paperwork, then left Bee alone in the office to study them.
She carefully took the documents out of the box. There were surveyor’s reports, petitions, proposals for both the town’s name and its form of government, lists of residents, and a town charter. Another box contained newspapers from surrounding communities with stories and headlines about the proposal to establish the new town.
Bee opened one of the yellowed papers and skimmed over the articles. Under the small headlineWhy Bliss Cove?, a woman named Miss Millicent Pepper had written a letter to the editor detailing the reasons the town should incorporate the wordblissinto its official name:
Bliss means complete happiness. It is a synonym for paradise. One only has to look at the beauty of our coastline, the bright blue sky and rocky cliffs, the towering redwoods and unique cypress trees, to recognize that we live on a parcel of heaven.
Should not the name of our new town reflect our great fortune?
Bee closed the paper. Millicent Pepper. She’d heard that name somewhere before, but she couldn’t place it.
After reviewing the other paperwork, she returned it all to the boxes and left the office. Edith was in the main exhibition room, arranging a display of Gold Rush-era mining and farm tools.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked.
“I’m not sure.” Bee paused beside her. “Do you know anything about a woman named Millicent Pepper?”
