Lavender Beach (16 page)

“Did anyone think to double back to check the cabin a second time to see if he eventually made his way there?”

“They did. No sign of him anywhere. Any other ideas where to look?”

“If Durke’s on the run he might find a way to contact his parents, or me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. If he should get in touch with you, let me know.”

“And you’ll do what? If he’s a drug informant, will you put him under protection? Unless I have your assurance that Durke will be safe I won’t hang my friend out to dry, not for anyone. I may have my faults, but I’m loyal.”

“Loyalty is admirable. Now let me ask you something. Is there any way you’re involved in the same thing he is?”

Eastlyn sank down in the chair in front of his desk. “I’m no dealer. I’m a lowly recovering pill addict. What exactly do you want from me to convince you?”

“That isn’t what I meant at all. Is there any way that someone might
think
you know something vital, some key piece of information about the drug trade in Bakersfield and come after you? If there’s a chance of that, tell me now.”

“You mean by association? My friendship with Durke was never about drugs or his bartending job. We talked about… This is embarrassing. We talked about the same things friends talk about. I bitched about the assholes I dated. Durke bitched about the women he hooked up with. We talked about why we didn’t have the same kinds of luck in relationships other people had. There’s no mystery to our friendship. None at all. I don’t have many longtime friends from my military days. When I got back to Bakersfield my prosthetic made a lot of people uncomfortable. But Durke accepted it, just as he had always accepted me with all the other quirks I had. Friends like that are hard to find. Even now, I’m worried about him.”

Eastlyn narrowed her eyes, stared at the man in front of her. For the first time, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept. Is anything wrong?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Other than the fact that my two-month-old son was fussy last night? Not a thing.”

She softened her face, sending him a wide grin. “I’ve heard babies like the motion of a car. Ever consider putting the kid into your cruiser and going for a ride at two in the morning? Or get a noise machine.”

He lifted his face out of his hands. “Hmm, not a bad idea. After four hours of walking the floor, why didn’t my wife come up with those suggestions? This is my first newborn and her second.”

“Uh, maybe your wife’s so exhausted she can’t think straight.”

“You got me there. How is it you know about cranky babies?”

“I don’t, not really. In the army you pick up the occasional tidbits from crewmembers. Some things turn out to be useful information and you pass it on. I overheard one of my medics, whose wife had given birth while he was in Iraq, suggest a string of things to deal with his daughter’s colic. To get the kid to sleep, the ride in the car thing worked the best.”

She hesitated, collecting her thoughts before dealing with a sticky subject. “There’s something bothering me. What exactly are you doing about the drug trade going on in your own backyard?”

Eastlyn saw the cop’s warm brown eyes go stone cold. She quickly added, “There’s no need to get your back up like that. Cooper told me about what happened with Edgecombe and his two sons, the ones you put away from the east part of the county during the time you were sheriff. Your arrest was commendable. But if someone is still running meth out there it needs to stop.”

Brent sat back in his chair, fascinated at her outrage. “I’ve communicated that to the guy who took over for me at the helm back in Santa Cruz. I’ve tried to get Jim Richardson to listen, on numerous occasions. Got nowhere. The area you’re talking about is out of my jurisdiction. Not only that, Richardson’s made it clear to me a long time ago that the county’s fight, their time
and
county money designated to fight the war on drugs, is elsewhere. It doesn’t include that part of the county, or for that matter, Pelican Pointe.”

“That’s nuts.”

“It’s called politics and payback. Richardson claims he has more important drug traffickers to go after than a few meth cookers holed up between Pelican Pointe and San Sebastian.”

“And you accept that?”

“Accept it? No. But I’m a stickler for things like enforcing the laws in my own jurisdiction. Now if the people in that compound were to bring their dirty business to my doorstep within my city limits, I’d be able to do something about it. Until then…”

“Good. Because I’ve recently become a hardworking, tax-paying resident and I take exception to having drug traffickers muddying up my new turf.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“That you know the difference between two-bit dealing and trafficking. Most people don’t.”

“Dealing is small time. Trafficking, on the other hand, is a major source of income and a disgusting way to make a buck.”

Brent took a deep breath, let out a tired sigh. “What part of ‘it’s out of my jurisdiction’ don’t you get? Which part of ‘I’m no longer the county sheriff’ don’t you understand? I’m now the chief of police for Pelican Pointe. My jurisdiction ends at the city limits. The area we’re talking about is…”

“Someone else’s problem? I get that. There’s gotta be a way around that though.”

Brent shook his head but finally cracked a grin. “I admit I usually don’t have many of the town folk walk through my door volunteering to help me kick a little ass. Although sometimes I can count on Ethan in a pinch for backup.”

“It’s commendable your brother helps out like that but...”

Brent didn’t let her finish. “Look, I’m grateful for your newly-minted loyalty to the town but until something pops within my precinct I suggest you let this go.” He eyed the stubborn bent to her spine and added, “Nick told me you were a helluva pilot in Iraq.”

“I loved flying. But that’s in the past. Who exactly is left in that compound?”

Brent folded his hands behind his head willing to indulge her curiosity. “Edgecombe’s wife and her in-laws, several members of the Thorwald family, and the usual bunch of hangers-on.”

“How many would you say altogether?”

“More than a dozen or so. Why do you ask?”

“Cooper mentioned you had former army training.”

Brent eyed her with open curiosity. After a few long seconds, he began to catch on. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Want me to do a little recon? We’d need to know the enemy before taking any kind of action. That means going inside that compound to see the layout and setup to know just what we’d be dealing with. If I got enough intel for you to take to this Richardson guy, he wouldn’t be able to ignore it. What kind of top cop ignores drug activity? Unless… Are you sure this Richardson isn’t getting cash to look the other way?”

Brent had often wondered about that as a possibility. But what good would it do to speculate about such a serious offense now when he was no longer part of that good old boys’ club. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t considered the possibility.”

“So we could nose around out there and see…”

“No. You’re a civilian. That area is very gray when it comes to me going out there and sticking my nose into someone else’s jurisdiction. I hate to say this, but it’s Richardson’s problem.”

“That’s why I’m volunteering.”

“It’s far too dangerous.”

“I saw combat. I think I can handle a bunch of meth cookers.”

“In case it’s escaped you, you’re not a soldier anymore. You’ve been out of the army for quite some time. Plus, the few Edgecombes who are still out there and the Thorwalds have armed that compound to the teeth. Not only would you be walking into uncharted territory, you’d be surrounded by a very unfriendly mob. And make no mistake, that’s what they are.” He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t even try it.”

Eastlyn stood up, blew out a breath in defeat. “Okay, but if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

That night Eastlyn
used her smartphone to Skype with her brother, Kaeden, for more than forty-five minutes.

Kaeden was an army pilot flying a Kiowa Warrior chopper, assigned to a task force that gathered intelligence information and provided reconnaissance for all types of different ops overseas.

During that call she did her best to assure him she was doing a lot better.

From long distance it was a tough sale.

“I worry about you.”

“I know you do. But there’s no need. I’m doing okay. Really I am. In fact, when you get time off I want you to come visit me here. I don’t have much room, but you can bunk on my couch.”

“Hey, that’s a step up. Last time I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor. I could probably take leave around Labor Day.”

“That’s perfect.”

“How small is this place?”

“My rental or the town? The house is tiny and Pelican Pointe is a tad larger than that. Less than three thousand people.”

“I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that you left Bakersfield for good.”

“For good remains to be seen.”

“You’re able to pick up enough work there in this little town? Do I need to send you some…?”

“Don’t do that. You’re not lending me money. I stay busy enough. Now stop worrying about me, big brother. I can take care of myself.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about my little sister.”

“Do you remember Durke Pedasco? He went missing several weeks back and hasn’t been seen since.”

“I never did understand what you saw in that guy.”

“Don’t start. Durke and I are friends. Besides, you know very well that I don’t have a lot of my army pals who stayed in touch after I mustered out. They didn’t know how to handle being around me, didn’t know what to say. But I could always rely on Durke. He’s been a good friend to me.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. But do me a favor. Try to stay out of trouble for longer than five minutes, will you?”

“You always did say that same thing to me when we were kids.”

Kaeden laughed. “Yeah, I wonder why? Trouble always seems to find you one way or another.”

When she hung up she realized a text message had come in from Cooper.
What are you wearing?

It had been a long time since Eastlyn had flirted, let alone flirted via phone, but she texted back anyway.
A smile. How about you?

Nothing sexier than your smile.

Those kinds of texts went back and forth for the remainder of the evening until both of them agreed it was time to call it a night.

Even then, Eastlyn closed her eyes feeling like a teenager again. She found herself eagerly anticipating dinner with him on Friday night. Drifting off to sleep, her thoughts turned to lustful images. But then reality took over. If only she had the same body she’d had at sixteen there wouldn’t be all this second-guessing. But as she floated into slumber everything seemed perfect. At the sheer joy of being whole again, she smiled—her dreams taking over.

Ten

M
argie had been right about the storm. By the end of the week it had dumped three inches of rain in a twenty-four-hour period. Wind gusts had wreaked havoc and ripped off tiles from rooftops, knocked out power, and uprooted a swath of trees.

The weather and the forensic team’s lockdown at the lighthouse had put the planting behind schedule. Isabella had told Eastlyn not to worry about it. No one else seemed to mind too much, either. Such was the mindset in a small town where laidback ruled. A happy-go-lucky attitude might conflict with Eastlyn’s military training, but she had no intentions of rocking the boat.

Good thing Landon Jennings had found plenty for her to do in the slack time, moving supplies around the warehouse at the garden center.

But today was a rare day off that came with a list of chores a mile long. She intended to get to all of them and leave behind the daily grind of all her jobs. Even Cord had sensed she needed a break and made arrangements for Abby Anderson to take care of all the animals slated for surgery this weekend.