Fourth of July Forgery

Excerpt

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Chapter One

Under the twilight sky, as the colorful sparks of fireworks danced above, the quaint town of Holiday Junction came alive with a symphony of laughter, joy, and the captivating warmth of an ocean breeze to celebrate the first day of the Fourth of July Festival.

I was perched at my desk in the Junction Journal office, overlooking the bustling scene unfolding outside. The ocean’s salty aroma wafted through the open windows, mingling with the excitement and anticipation that hung in the air.

“Violet, are you ’bout done?” my mama, Millie Kaye, asked. She was southern to her core and brimmed with enthusiasm for any celebration that came our way. 

She popped her head into the door of my office. 

I had to keep myself from laughing as I took in an outfit I’d call gaudy, but she’d call it getting into the spirit of the Fourth of July. 

Mama had carefully selected an ensemble that exuded patriotic flair. She wore a flowy navy-blue maxi dress adorned with white stars, its fabric swaying gently as she headed straight over to my desk with something in her fingers. 

The dress was cinched at the waist with a vibrant red belt, which added a touch of boldness to her ensemble. She had a straw hat tucked underneath her arm.

“I’ve got my brochures just in time.” She wagged the object in the air and handed it to me, giving me an even better look at it—a pair of dazzling earrings crafted in the shape of sparkling fireworks. Her pocketbook was in the crook of her elbow. 

The earrings dangled delicately, each burst capturing the essence of the celebratory fireworks that would soon light up the night sky.

“Look at what a bang-up job Clara and Garrett did down at the Printing Press.” She pointed at the front of the brochure, showing that even her nails had fireworks painted on them. “We bartered.” 

She was lit up like a sparkler at the memory of making this deal. 

“And what did you agree upon, Mama?” I asked. 

“They gave me a steep discount on the printing in full color, and I gave them three months of free membership at the Leisure Center.” Mama popped the straw hat on top of her head. 

The hat was adorned with a wide red ribbon. A small American flag pin was pinned on the ribbon, a subtle yet powerful symbol of her patriotism.

She snapped the top of her purse open, took out a handful of the brochures, and slapped them down on my desk. 

“Now, me and you are going to be giving these out tonight,” she told me with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye. 

“Okay, Mama.” I got up and noticed her comfortable-looking yet stylish white sandals adorned with red and blue accents. 

It was Mama’s way of having the perfect balance between fashion and practicality, ensuring she could navigate the festivities with ease. Mama never did anything without thinking through the outfit she would wear for any event. 

“You aren’t going out there lookin’ like that, are you?” she asked. Then she must have realized what she’d said, because she gasped slightly and knotted her brows. “You look all right. Besides, it’s getting dark out soon. And, well”—her lips pinched—“everyone will be looking at the fireworks instead of you.”

That was Mama’s way of apologizing. Her southern way. I’d gotten used to it over the years. She loved me, and I knew it, or she’d never have followed me to Holiday Junction when I moved here a little over a year ago. Just about a month later, she showed up at my door with her suitcase in hand, just landed from our home in Normal, Kentucky. 

I figured she was going to stay for one week, maybe two. Boy, was I wrong. She not only stayed but ended up buying a house. Then my daddy moved here. Soon, she started working with me at the Junction Journal.

Now she was opening up the Leisure Center because she said Holiday Junction needed a place for seniors to go, though she refused to call it that. 

“I’m not going to say anything, but I love the you-know-what.” Her words ran together. 

“Mama,” I said in a tone that told her not to say another word. 

“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I’m going to use the ladies’ room, so get your stuff and let’s go.”

“Yeah, yeah.” When I walked over to get my camera bag, I stopped at the window and looked out at the beach. 

As I gazed out of the office window, my heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation. The Fourth of July festivities were in full swing, and as the co-Merry Maker of Holiday Junction with Darren Strickland, it was my responsibility to ensure the holiday celebration’s grand finale was nothing short of spectacular. 

The Merry Maker was one of the most important jobs, if not the most important, in Holiday Junction, and it was secret. No one, well, no one but Darren, Mama, Vern McKenna, and I knew we were the current Merry Makers. 

Darren, with his warm smile and unwavering enthusiasm, was not only my partner in merrymaking but also someone with whom I had developed a budding relationship. 

We shared a deep connection and a love for this charming town. It was no surprise that he called the lighthouse his home, a symbol of guidance and strength that overlooked the picturesque coastline.

Together, Darren and I had meticulously planned the holiday’s last hurrah, a gathering that would bring the townsfolk together for one final moment of joy and camaraderie.

Our chosen location for this year’s festivities was the beach, and to mark the spot, we had placed a magnificent ten-foot sparkly rocket that shone and shimmered in the fading daylight. Vern had made the rocket for us using his amazing skills as a carpenter. 

This iconic symbol of the large rocket held a special meaning for the townspeople, signifying that the heart of the celebration would unfold right here, where the crashing waves met the sandy shore. In this place, laughter would echo, memories would be made, and the spirit of community would be ignited.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow across the beach, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, and the townsfolk knew, without a doubt, that this was the place to be, the epicenter of the evening’s revelry.

Children ran along the shoreline, their laughter mixing with the sound of crashing waves. Families set up picnic blankets, their mouths watering in anticipation of the delicious food and sweet treats that would be shared. The air was filled with the cheerful chatter of friends and neighbors, the people’s faces painted with expressions of joy and excitement.

“You ready?” Mama asked, bringing me out of the nostalgia I’d entered. “Violet?”

“Yep.” I grabbed the camera bag from the shelf and turned around. “I’m going to get some great photos for tomorrow’s special Fourth of July edition of the Junction Journal.”

Mama led me all the way down the sidewalk in front of all the seaside shops, giving her brochures to anyone who extended a hand. 

“Darlin’, can you believe the turnout we’re havin’ for the Fourth of July festivities?” Mama exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy. 

She’d stopped at Popcorn Paradise. The food stand offered a variety of popcorn flavors, from traditional buttery popcorn to gourmet options like caramel, cheese, and even spicy flavors. 

“The fireworks display is gonna be a real showstopper this year, and I’m hopin’ folks will come check out the Leisure Center while they’re at it.” Mama turned and looked back over her shoulder to see what I was staring at. “Do you want some popcorn?”

“I think I will, so you go on and I’ll meet you at the Merry Maker sign,” I suggested because she clearly wanted to hand out all those brochures. 

“Don’t forget to hand those out. I don’t want to see a single one in your hand when I meet you.” She made sure I understood what she expected of me before she took off down the sidewalk. 

As I stood in line, I couldn’t help but take out my camera to snap a few candid shots of children eating some of the festival foods. The kids were sitting on the curb of the street that had been blocked off by the Holiday Junction Police Department. 

My mouth watered when I realized I was next in line, and my eyes focused on the caramel popcorn option. 

“One small caramel popcorn, please,” I told the young man who asked to take my order. He stood behind a small screen window barely cracked open. 

“Make it a large,” a familiar voice boomed behind me. The speaker’s hand placed a ten-dollar bill in the sliding window. 

With a contented sigh, I turned to Darren. Our eyes met for a brief moment, sharing unspoken understanding and excitement. 

“I’ve been looking for you.” His dark eyes framed by his thick brows sent my heart into a crazy butterfly spiral. He raised his other hand, which held the Leisure Center brochure. “I saw Millie Kay. She said you were at Popcorn Paradise.” 

“I’m so glad you found me.” I tried to keep my smile small, but it was as large as the fireworks display would be. He looked so cute in his brown longboard-style shorts, loose long-sleeved white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and dock shoes. 

He was so laid-back with his dressing style and long hair that he was good for me. 

I took the popcorn from the guy behind the window. Darren and I stepped away from the stand. 

“Look around at all the happy faces.” He took a handful of caramel popcorn, popping a few kernels in his mouth. 

“We did good this time.” I shoved a handful of the delicious treat in my mouth, agreeing we’d finally found a good rhythm for where the secret Merry Maker spot for each holiday would be hosted. Previously, we’d never agreed on where they should be.

With mouths full of popcorn, Darren and I took the moment to glance at our surroundings. This was our way to bring happiness and unity to the people we cherished. 

Together, we’d create a night to remember, a night when the spirit of the Fourth of July would shine as brightly as the stars above us.

“Let’s go get a front-row beach seat,” Darren said. He started to lead me down the road to the big wooden rocket, walking with the rest of the crowd. 

We took our time so I could stop and snap photos of all the food vendors. 

The Beachside Grill was a cute stand that served juicy burgers, hot dogs, and smoky barbecued chicken. Everything there looked like it was expertly cooked to perfection. 

Seafood Shack was another cute stand serving fresh catches from the ocean and a variety of other seafood delights, from succulent shrimp skewers and crispy fish tacos to creamy clam chowder and mouthwatering lobster rolls. The owners boasted that seafood lovers were in for a delectable treat.

“You can wash that down with one of those.” I pointed at the Lemonade Oasis stand and watched Darren scarf down a shrimp skewer. 

Of course, there was a booth for people who wanted more sweets than the caramel popcorn stand offered. 

Sweet Treats Delight had a display of cotton candy, caramel apples, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and colorful candy floss. You could imagine how long the line was when we walked past. 

“I think I got some really good candids for the morning paper.” I quickly flipped through the digital photos to show Darren before we took off our shoes and walked on the sandy beach. 

“It’s really crowded.” Darren had stopped. He towered over almost everyone’s heads as he looked over them to see if we could get a closer spot. “I say we go up there.” He raised his chin in the air. 

I looked up to see where he was pointing. 

“I’m up for it.” I turned the camera off and put it back in the bag so it didn’t get sandy on our way to his lighthouse. The perfect view of the fireworks would be from the tip-top of that structure. 

With a touch of excitement lingering in the air, Darren and I climbed the winding staircase from inside his house. 

“We better hurry.” Darren was ahead of me, holding a six-pack of beer he’d grabbed out of his refrigerator on our way to the steps. “I can hear the booms.”

As we reached the top, the vibrant colors of the Fourth of July fireworks painted the night sky above the ocean, creating a breathtaking spectacle. 

Darren had a mischievous glint in his eyes as he handed me a couple of chilled beers. Condensation glistened on the bottles. We settled ourselves on the platform, our legs dangling over the side, feeling the cool ocean breeze against our skin.

As the first fireworks exploded above us, we clinked our bottles together in a toast, savoring the fizzy anticipation that mirrored the sparkling lights overhead. The symphony of crackling bursts and whistling trails filled the night, punctuated by gasps and applause from the crowd below.

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and gratitude as we sat there, witnessing the colorful bursts of light illuminating the darkness. The waves’ rhythmic pounding against the shore added a soothing backdrop to the spectacle, creating a moment of pure enchantment.

“I better snap a few photos.” I put my beer bottle down and dragged the bag closer to me. 

The photos would be beautiful but nothing like being there in person. 

“That should be enough.” I wanted to make sure I was present for the rest of photos and satisfied I’d gotten a few good ones to use.

We leaned back against the sturdy structure of the lighthouse, our gazes fixed on the mesmerizing display. Darren’s presence beside me brought a warmth and comfort that I had come to cherish while we marveled at the magic unfolding before our eyes.

As the fireworks painted the night sky with cascades of red, white, and blue, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only Darren, the lights, and me. Our laughter and whispered conversations filled the space between the bursts. We shared stories and dreams amidst the symphony of colors.

Time seemed to stand still as we basked in the beauty of the moment. The stars above seemed to twinkle with delight, as if they were joining in the celebration of this special night.

With each explosion, I felt a sense of unity, not only with Darren but also with the entire town of Holiday Junction. It was a moment of collective awe, a shared experience that transcended individual differences and brought us together under the magic of the fireworks.

As the grand finale erupted in a shower of shimmering sparks, we sat in silence, our hearts filled with gratitude and wonder. The sounds of the cheers and applause from the crowd below reached our ears, a testament to the joy and delight the fireworks had brought to everyone in Holiday Junction.

Then some screaming suddenly took over the cheers. Darren and I stood up to see why. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, leaning over the railing.

As a journalist with an insatiable curiosity, I couldn’t help but dart off back down the stairs to get an up-close and personal photo of whatever was going on. 

I took a deep breath, allowing the salty breeze to fill my lungs, heightening my senses. The stage was set, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. 

Little did I know that by the end of this night, the vibrant celebration would give way to a grim discovery, plunging Holiday Junction into a web of secrets and intrigue.

As soon as we reached the beach, one last burst of fireworks illuminated the darkening sky, and I felt a surge of adrenaline, knowing that my nose for news and the light of the fireworks would lead me straight into the heart of the unfolding mystery.

At the time, I didn’t realize it was a dead body on the beach.

end of excerpt