Scene of the Crime: Killer Cove. Carla Cassidy

nodded. “Jim Burns was voted in as mayor and you know what a hotshot he’s always been. Once he was in office he surrounded himself with like-minded councilmen and then rallied the business owners to push through the sale of the land. There was one heated town meeting before the final vote. As you can imagine most of the old-timers didn’t want to see the town overrun with tourists and the like, but there were enough who believed Lost Lagoon is a dying town and the amusement park was the opportunity to get it prosperous and thriving.”

      Bo stared at his friend for a long moment, trying to digest what he’d just learned. “Why would anyone choose this place to put in an amusement park?”

      Jimmy shrugged. “Rumor is it will be pirate themed to play off the legends of pirates once roaming the area.”

      Many of the businesses in town had already embraced the pirate theme years ago. There was the Pirate’s Inn, rumored to be haunted by pirates who couldn’t find their ship; the Treasure Trove sold pirate T-shirts and fake swords along with elaborate costume jewelry and gold-wrapped chocolate coins. On Main Street you couldn’t walk ten feet and not see something pirate-related.

      “Frank Kean must have been devastated to lose the election,” he said.

      “Actually, I think he was ready to step down. Besides, he’s on a small committee that’s working closely both with the city council and the people building the park. There are still some people disgruntled about the whole thing, but it’s a done deal and life will definitely change around here when the park is done.”

      As they finished their breakfast Jimmy continued to fill him in on the happenings in town, who had gotten married and who had gotten divorced and all the rest of the local gossip.

      Bo encouraged the conversation, knowing it was much easier to talk about things and people he didn’t care about anymore than think about the service for his mother that afternoon.

      After cleaning up the kitchen, it seemed all too soon that it was time to shower and get dressed for his final goodbye to his mother.

      As he dressed in a white short-sleeved dress shirt and his suit pants, he thought about the fact that he hadn’t mentioned to Jimmy his unexpected interaction with Claire Silver the night before.

      Maybe he was afraid that Jimmy would tell him that Claire was nice, but was also the town’s nutcase, and Bo liked her. He didn’t want to hear anything negative about her. Right now she and Jimmy were the only two people in this godforsaken town he liked.

      He doubted he’d see her again. Tonight he’d have Jimmy bring home some sturdy boxes from the bar, and tomorrow Bo would pack his mother’s things, catch up with the lawyer, and by Saturday or Sunday be back on the road with Lost Lagoon just a distant memory.

      Oh, he would forever be bound to this place because of his nearly lifelong friendship with Jimmy and his secret ownership of Jimmy’s Place, but there would be no reason to ever come here again.

      He carried his suit jacket into the kitchen and placed it across the back of a chair, and then walked to the window and stared outside as he waited for Jimmy.

      It was two o’clock and outside the window the dreariness of the day remained unchanged, as if a reflection of Bo’s somber mood. He already knew his mother had requested a closed casket and a short grave site service performed by Pastor Ralph Kimmel from the Methodist church she had attended for years.

      The cemetery was only a ten-minute drive and Bo didn’t see any reason to arrive too early. There was nobody he wanted to visit with and he suspected that few people would attend.

      Jimmy walked into the kitchen, clad in a dark gray suit that Bo vaguely remembered once had belonged to him. Thankfully the two were about the same size, and many times over the years Jimmy had been given clothes from Bo.

      “Maybe we should go ahead and head out. If we get there early you could at least have a few minutes alone before anyone else arrives,” Jimmy suggested.

      Bo nodded and grabbed his suit jacket and pulled it on, dread, grief and anxiety all boiling inside his stomach. His mother had grieved long and hard following the death of his father, and there was some consolation that the two of them were now together once again.

      Minutes later they were in Jimmy’s car and headed toward the Lost Lagoon Cemetery. With each mile Bo’s heart grew heavier as emotion pressed tighter and tighter against his chest.

      Once they arrived it was easy to see where the ceremony would take place. A small white canopy fluttered in the sultry air over the plain white casket, which was already in place to be lowered into the ground.

      Nobody else was there yet, and as Bo got out of the car and walked toward the site the emotion in his chest rose up to blur his vision with tears.

      He quickly brushed them away, not wanting anyone to see any weakness, but they appeared once again and he was grateful that Jimmy had hung back, giving him a moment alone.

      He stood at the foot of the casket, his brain whirling with memories of his mother. She had been the one who had pushed him after high school to drive back and forth to the bigger city of Hattiesburg to attend college, where he’d received a business degree by the time he was twenty-one.

      She’d then encouraged him to open Bo’s Place, her and his dad fronting him the money to begin the successful venture. One of his proudest days had been when he’d been able to pay them back every cent of their seed money.

      “So, I figured I hadn’t seen the last of you.” The familiar deep voice coming from behind him tensed every one of Bo’s muscles.

      He turned to see Sheriff Trey Walker and his deputy, Ray McClure. Both men had been Bo’s biggest accusers and both had been extremely frustrated that they hadn’t been able to put together a case that would see Bo in prison for Shelly’s murder.

      “What are you doing here?” Bo asked, unable to hide a hint of hostility.

      “We always come out to pay respects to one of our own,” Trey replied, his green eyes narrowed as he held Bo’s gaze.

      “Maybe you should be spending this time looking for the person who really murdered Shelly,” Bo said.

      “Already know the answer to that question,” Ray said. Ray was a mean little creep, built like a bulldog and as tenacious as one. He had been one of the loudest mouths proclaiming Bo’s guilt in Shelly’s murder.

      Bo was about to tell the two of them to get the hell out of there when he heard a female voice calling his name. He watched as Claire ran toward them. Clad in a pair of slender black slacks and a white blouse, the sight of her immediately diffused some of Bo’s anger.

      She reached Bo’s side and looped an elbow with his, as if presenting a united stance. At the same time Jimmy joined them along with Pastor Kimmel, who immediately took Bo’s hand in his.

      His faded blue eyes held a kindness that warmed him as much as Claire’s surprising nearness and open support. “It’s a sorrowful day when we have to say a final goodbye to such a good woman.”

      Bo nodded, unable to speak around the lump that had risen in his throat. Claire moved closer to his side, as if she sensed the myriad emotions racing through him.

      Pastor Kimmel released his hand and stepped back, nodding to the other attendees. “Shall we get started or should we wait to see if others want to come to pay their respects?”

      Bo glanced at the road by the cemetery. There wasn’t a car in sight and it was three o’clock. “Let’s get this done,” he said roughly.

      So his mother would be sent off to her final destination by a pastor, a loving son, a surrogate son, two cops who thought her son was guilty of murder and a woman Bo hadn’t decided yet if she was completely sane.

      * * *

      CLAIRE HAD A FEELING few people would be here today. Brenda McBride had become a semi-shut-in after Bo left town. She and Jimmy showed up every Sunday morning for church, but other than that