Awash in spring-like temperatures, March arrived in Coyote Wells like a baby lamb, snuggled and wrapped in a soft pink blanket.
That wasn’t the case the day before.
The last day of February went out like a roaring lion, packing a punch with a series of powerful storms that raged up and down the coast. High winds bashed and battered the shoreline for twenty-four solid hours, sending floodwaters thundering through the streets and spilling over the curb into the downtown businesses.
By morning, most of the water had receded. But the downtown area faced a daunting cleanup. As business owners greeted Monday morning, they cleared away their sandbags and began mopping up the damage.
One woman had been up all night.
Gemma Channing Bonner, owner of Coyote Chocolate Company, had opted to spend the night in her shop, doing her best to keep the water from seeping in and ruining the floors.
With mop in hand, her dark caramel-colored hair slipping out of its ponytail, Gemma surveyed the mess. It stretched from the counter to where she’d stacked the tables, one on top of the other.
She’d brought in huge fans to dry up the water. But the whole store still had that musty odor that lingered long after the rain had stopped.
To keep everything else dry, she’d stored away expensive supplies back in the pantry. Now, one by one, she brought everything back out, ready to start her day, ready to begin making chocolate again. It was the one bright spot she looked forward to in an otherwise depressing, stressful twenty-four hours.
After protecting and guarding what she owned from Mother Nature’s wrath, she felt exhausted. Bringing her arm up to mop her brow, she noticed the rip in her new mint green sweater where a tear had frayed the sleeve. Letting out a low groan, she looked down at her stone-washed jeans only to see that she’d ripped the knee on her right leg. Little drops of blood had seeped out into the fabric.
She’d probably need to rub antiseptic cream on her kneecap. Later. For now, it would have to wait until the big fans completely dried the wet floors. Everything would have to wait until business got back to normal.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Lianne Whittaker, her friend and now a business owner, standing inside the doorway that joined the chocolate shop to Lianne’s new venture—Collette’s Collectibles.
With Gemma’s help and advice, Lianne had hired Billy Gafford to transform the old pizza place into a homage to Collette, Lianne’s murdered sister. Collette had made plans before her death to turn the old pizzeria into a winetasting slash bookstore but never got the project off the ground. Lianne meant to change that. At the very least, turn the space into a viable retail outlet.
It hadn’t been easy. The winetasting slash bookstore idea had fizzled for a variety of reasons.
After two years of changing her mind, Lianne had finally settled on what she hoped would work. This early in March, she had one goal in mind—the grand opening of the shop planned for Memorial Day weekend. By then, tourists would be flocking to the little coastal town in numbers that would double the population.
There was still a lot to get done. Lianne had crates to unpack and shelves to stock, which is why she worked at the chocolate store part-time. Helping Gemma balance mayoral duties while maintaining a brisk candy business kept Lianne on her toes.
“Hey, when did you get here?” Gemma called out.
“Just came in through the alleyway. Had to wait for the water to recede before my little Civic could make it downtown. Is it okay to come inside?” Lianne asked, looking out at the still-damp hardwood, then testing her foot on the slick floor. “How come this place got harder hit than…” She thumbed her fist back over her shoulder and pointed to the store behind her. “There’s hardly any water at all in the shop. None of the inventory seems to have suffered damage. Although a few boxes got wet. But all the rest, especially those containing the books I got in on Friday, are dry.”
“Maybe that’s because you still have them in crates. Good call, by the way. I didn’t understand at the time why you didn’t get everything unpacked. You look like the genius now.”
Lianne lifted a shoulder and studied the dining area and the counter, then sniffed the air. “Still smells like stale rainwater in here, but it’ll dry out. We’ll open both doors and let