Starlight Dunes (18 page)

“That’s just plain silly,” Ethan
remarked. “I don’t want Nate hopping on a bus to make a forty mile trip out of town every day.”

“I don’t like the idea of that either,” Logan stated.
“San Sebastian is too far away for that.”

“Then why don’t you guys do something about it?” Brent
said in challenge.

“Like what?” Nick asked. “Other than build
a school here, I don’t know what else we could do.”

“What about the
old elementary at the corner of Landings Bay and Cape May?” Brent suggested.

“That place
is falling apart,” Wally pointed out. “They closed it down twenty years ago when enrollment dropped to under fifty. That’s how long the kids have been riding the bus over to San Sebastian and how long it’s been sitting vacant.”

Nick raised a brow, intrigued by the idea.
He exchanged glances with Logan. “But could it be renovated? What kind of shape is it in?”

“As long as it’s structurally sound and doesn’t have asbestos issues, or any type of mold
problems, any building can be remodeled,” Logan stated.

Ethan shook his head.
“But that doesn’t solve the enrollment issue. What if there aren’t enough school-age kids here in town to fill it up? I mean Nate doesn’t start school for another four years but if you could swing this, I’m in.”

“
Okay, then the next questions to get answered would be what exactly would it take to get a school opened in less than a year’s time with limited registration?” Nick asked.

“
A lot, I’m sure,” Brent returned easily. “So the real question would be how motivated are you guys to see it gets done?”

“
Not to mention a project like that would take major bucks,” Wally noted. “Even though we’d probably need nothing short of Santa Clause to pull it off, I’m in, too.”

“
Is it possible to raise that kind of money in such a short amount of time?” Logan pondered. “Is it even doable?”

“What
do you say after lunch we go take a look at the building, decide from there?” Nick proposed.

Logan drained his coffee cup.
“As someone who just happens to be putting the finishing touches on my own personal project—not to mention I’m about to embark on fatherhood for the first time—I hope to one day send my kid to a local school. If it isn’t here, then where?”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m up for another crazy-ass, new project.”

“Good,” Nick said. “Because this one will take more than Santa Clause, it’ll take a
damned miracle if we could pull it off.”

That sentiment turned out to be true
after lunch when the men drove over in caravan style and spent two hours walking around the abandoned building.

Looking at
it up close, it was hard to believe the old school had once seen hundreds of students from kindergarten to sixth grade come through its doors on a daily basis.

Now
, two decades of disrepair had not been kind to the one-story structure. Most of the letters had fallen off the front of the building. Those that remained spelled out something indecipherable. “eli an Po te Ele  t ry Sch” was all that was left.

Windows
were busted out. The moist marine air had done its damage by rusting out the foyer around the entryway. 

The interior had suffered the same fate as the outside. Vandals had trashed the
administrative offices, the classrooms, sprayed graffiti in the restrooms, cafeteria and gym areas.  

“And I thought the keeper’s cottage was a
mess,” Logan admitted. “Wally’s right. This will take some major bucks.”

“But is the building sound? Is it worth it?” Nick
wanted to know.

“If we could pull this off, I might change careers and decide to do this for a living,” Log
an muttered as he tested a load-bearing wall for its sturdiness.

“You mean renovating old places?” Wally asked.
“I’ve seen what you did with the lighthouse. You could earn a nice living at it.”

“Ye
p.” Logan scratched his chin. “I haven’t created anything new since I got here. And right back atcha because I’ve seen what you can do to a transmission and an engine,” Logan said to Wally.

Nick shook his head. “You think you haven’t created anything new, huh
? Seems to me, the last time I checked, someone brought a lighthouse back from the dead, remodeled the keeper’s cottage, and painted a mural that’s practically a tourist attraction in the middle of town. I’d say that counts as creativity beyond the norm.”

“He’s got you there,” Brent added. “Look,
I hate to miss out on the rest of the fun, but since I’m the only guy here who isn’t married and doesn’t even have a stake in this, I’ve got to get to my rent-a-cop job.”

“At least there’s no silly uniform involved,” Ethan joked
as he walked Brent outside to his truck. “I gotta say your change of heart about heading this security detail surprises me. You don’t seem to mind the gig all that much. Or could it be because of the perks, or rather one gorgeous perk thrown in, that’s changed your mind?”

“River’s amazing. I’ve never met a woman
as strong. It’s sexy as hell.”

Ethan grinned, recognizing
a change in his brother. “You any closer to getting back to work, officially?”

“No. It seems the county is going out of its way to throw out all kinds of stumbling blocks
my way.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, that I’m unfit mentally and physically to resume the office.”

“You’re kidding? After cleaning up the department like you did? That definitely stinks of political motivation.
”

“You’re telling me.”

When Brent turned to head to his pickup, Ethan called out, “Hey, bro.”

“Yeah?
”

“That
nutjob who’s after you is obsessed. I can’t get a bead on him. He moves around a lot.”

Brent nodded.
“I appreciate your trying.”

“
And Brent?”

“What now?”

“Be careful out there.”

“You got it.”

While Brent spent
his afternoon hanging out with the guys, River took the time to stroll down Ocean Street. After twenty minutes she ended up standing in front of Hidden Moon Bay Books. It wasn’t, of course, by accident. She’d intended to stop in because for weeks she’d been curious about Ethan Cody. She was dying to find out how deep his psychic ability ran.

But
since she couldn’t just walk in the door and ask if the mystery writer would help her look for her son, she had to play it like a tourist.

She’d sought out psychics before. Some had been nothing more than
cons. But she couldn’t see the sheriff’s brother posing as a scam artist.

There had been a few
that had given her leads. Anything she felt viable, she always passed along to Gil Conroy. She wasn’t sure Gil followed up on all of them. But at least it made her feel like she contributed to the search in some way other than standing on the sidelines.

River
stepped into the shop with tables filled with fragrant candles, an assortment of fresh herbs, and rows of bookshelves filled to the brim with hardcovers, paperbacks, and audios, a reader’s haven.

A portable crib set up at the end of the register area held a sleeping baby.
River decided that must be the reason there was no bell above the door.

She glanced around to see a prominent
table dedicated to Ethan Cody’s two bestsellers. Generous stacks of each one dominated the tabletop.

River reached over to thumb through the pages.

The blonde behind the counter sent her a wide smile of approval at her taste in thrillers. “Come on in. I was hoping you’d finally stop by.”

“You were?”

“Sure. I find it fascinating what you do. I once wanted to be a forest ranger so I appreciate anyone who works outside in the weather, enduring the elements like you guys do.”

“Heat, sun, bitter cold, yep, that’s us.
Don’t forget the bugs we encounter.”

“
Eww, I forgot about that. Are you looking for anything in particular? Except, of course, the one you have in your hand. That one is riveting. It’s about a ship that vanished off the California Coast set in present day.”

“So
ld. I’ll take it, along with his second book.”

Hayden sent her a wide smile.
“I like you already.”

S
kulking around in the dark wearing night vision goggles was a pain in the ass. But when the marine layer rolled in thick and heavy off the water it was a necessity, especially if the strike proved a success. The timing had to be perfect as did the aim. Having a steady hand on the trigger would surely get the desired results this time.

No one would expect a climb down the side of a cliff
in pitch-black darkness. Only a fool would try that or someone who didn’t give a shit about their safety. That’s what made it a brilliant tactical foray into the camp of the enemy.

Death was the goal. Brent Cody’s would be beautiful. It was
n’t just the definitive payback. It was the only acceptable form of retribution.

The copse of trees
on top of the cliffs made for a good hiding place and an excellent perch in which to keep an eye on the man’s movements below. So far, all the sheriff had done on duty was to sit on his ass or stretch his legs. His ego had to have taken a hit at such a menial position.

But then t
he son of a bitch should be dead anyway so it hardly mattered. At the very least he should be back on the job by now. Why wasn’t he? Probably milking the disability angle. Instead of top cop in the county he’d been relegated to what amounted to mall security—couldn’t be a more fitting demotion for the asshole unless it was the ultimate—an ugly casket buried six feet in the ground.

A choir of chirping crickets broke the monotony
. Scouting Brent Cody from this angle was so much easier than taking him out at ground level near the dunes.

A sitting duck is what he was—a gift of opportunity
really. The dig site below made for a difficult climb down. But it wasn’t impossible.

Good thing
agility ran in the family.

The
fog had
rolled in leaving the quiet of night broken only by the gentle lap of the ocean as it washed up against the pebbled shoreline. Approaching the midnight hour, Brent had spent the last uneventful eight hours on the job listening to that slap and ebb.

He would admit to no one that tonight the continuous back and forth rhythm
had almost lulled him to sleep a time or two. As the gentle rush of waves met beach, he expected any minute to see Zach Dennison rounding the dunes to take over for him on the sunrise shift.

Since Zach and his sister, Bree, shared a little bungalow on Cape May
, left to them by their father who died last June, Brent figured Zach could use the work. It was rumored around town that the two siblings had considered leaving Pelican Pointe and heading to San Jose for better-paying jobs. They were having a tough time making ends meet. That was only one reason Brent had thought of Zach for work. The other, was that they were a couple of decent kids who badly needed to catch a break.

While Bree spent almost every waking hour either taking courses at the junior college in San Sebastian or working four to midnight at McCready’s, her brother, Zach
, picked up whatever odd jobs he could around town. He’d missed out on the lighthouse project last spring because he’d gone out of state to Colorado to work construction.

T
heir father’s death might’ve been what brought Zach back to Pelican Pointe but it wasn’t why he stayed. Zach’s kid sister, Bree, had just recently turned twenty-one, old enough to cart drinks at the bar. Brent knew that worried the big brother. After all, he could relate. Over the years there had been times he’d felt much the same way about his little brother. For years Ethan had seemed to drift aimlessly without direction. Who would’ve ever thought the man who’d once tended bar and played in a band—would have found marital bliss—along with a solid career doing something he loved?

If that didn’t show that sticking it out with family could turn out for the best, nothing did.

In Brent’s mind family came first. He was sure that was the reason Zach had stuck around over the summer in Pelican Pointe. He recognized that about Zach. That’s why he hoped like hell the Dennisons didn’t leave. Too many people were packing up and heading someplace else these days.

Even if he didn’t live here permanently, Brent didn’t like to see the little town lose
any of its residents. When that happened enough times, chunks began to fall away that you could never get back. Folks had to have a reason to stay.

Just
that morning, the town council had made it official. They’d voted to move forward with a major renovation to re-open Pelican Pointe Elementary. The old building would have to undergo upgrades and changes. It would take dedication on the part of everyone in town to see that it happened. After all, families with children couldn’t keep packing their kids off to school in another town. It was embarrassing.

Brent
might not have to worry about things like that. But seeing the determination on the faces of fathers like Nick and Wally and his own brother, Ethan, did make a man wonder about all those what-ifs in life.

I
f River Amandez ever got her son back, would she head back to Santa Fe? Would the woman finally put down roots there in her own hometown? The fact that she was young meant she still had plenty of time to meet Mr. Right, to get her life sorted out. If everything ever fell into place for a woman like that, would she consider having more kids one day when she met said Mr. Right?

He admired
her persistence, the way she hadn’t given up on finding her child. Hell, who was he kidding? He couldn’t wait to get her in the sack, a real bed this time, preferably his own.

Since he’d started his shift, t
hey’d flirted with each other via text off and on all night. They’d bantered back and forth with suggestive byplay that had his juices revving up, even now.

Deep in those
kinds of thoughts, the next thing Brent heard was someone yell, “Get down. Hit the dirt! Now!”

Brent ducked
and dropped to the sand about the same time a gunshot crackled through the air. Several seconds went by as he lay there realizing someone had just taken a shot at him. It pissed him off. He heard leaves rustling. Then the sound evaporated into the wind and the waves. He got to his feet and took off in the only direction that made sense, the path leading to the dunes and down to the pier.

But he saw no one ahead of him. Turning, he s
canned the cliffs for any movement. He saw nothing but the light wind stirring through the California scrub dotting the side of the bluff.

Just in case the shooter had
outrun him, Brent took off as best he could around the bend. And ran smack into Zach Dennison. Wheezing a little, Brent shouted, “Did anyone run past you?”

“
Not a soul. I was halfway to the pier when I heard gunfire. Are you okay?”

Instead of answering,
Brent scratched his head and scanned the street to the east and southward. No movement anywhere. “They didn’t vanish into thin air,” Brent muttered. Surely they couldn’t have scaled the side of the overhang. “They had to have come this way,” he reasoned.

“I didn’t see anyone but you.”

  “But you were right there on the dunes. You warned me to get down.” Brent caught Zach expression and felt a defensive band tighten his chest. Was it possible Zach thought he had fallen asleep on the job? “I didn’t imagine this.”

“
I didn’t say you did. I was just making my way across the street when I heard cannon fire. But it wasn’t me who warned you.”

It was then
Brent realized he was in no shape for a climb up the side of the cliff.

“You want me to
take a look around? Check up the hill in case they scuttled back to the top through that heavy brush over there.”

Wonder
ing if maybe he might have fallen asleep after all and dreamed the entire incident, Brent wanted verification from Zach. “You can confirm you heard a gunshot, right?”

Zach nodded. “
I heard that clear as day.”

“That’s something, I guess. After we get this on report we’ll head up to the lighthouse
, check to see if anyone parked there for any length of time,” Brent suggested as he took out his cell phone to make the nine-one-one call.

By this time he looked up to see
Ethan running up to him. Ethan clutched a service revolver in his fist. “I heard gunfire. You okay?”

Ah
, a second person verifying he’d heard shots never hurt, Brent decided. For some reason that made him feel better. “I’m fine,” he puffed out. “But I have to follow where I think the perp ran after he fired. Unfortunately, that’s the side of the cliff.”

“You
’ll never make it up there, Brent,” Ethan pointed out. 

“That’s why
we’re taking your minivan and you’re coming with me,” Brent retorted. He turned to Zach. “I want you to stay here and make sure no one gets down to that beach. If there are any footprints, I want casts made. We’ll have to wait for daylight for that though.”

Brent
glanced across the street just in time to catch Julian and Laura darting toward him and into the mix. He shook his head. The last thing he needed was a group of people gathering out in the open. “I’d be a helluva lot better if busybodies didn’t decide to check out the situation for themselves,” Brent grumbled, putting out a hand to stop the couple from coming any further. “Go back inside the RV. You don’t want to be standing out here vulnerable to gunfire.”

“I called River. She’s on her way,” Julian shouted from
his position near the pier.

Brent
’s first reaction made him feel like he was back in middle-school, a starry-eyed teen, excited at the prospect of getting to see his best girl in study hall. Then, like any sane man, he remembered it was almost midnight and someone had just taken a pot shot at him from an unknown location. “I wish you hadn’t done that. The last thing I need is to have River, or anyone else for that matter, caught in the middle of another round of shots. That includes the two of you.”

“
I thought maybe she needed to know there was trouble out here again,” Julian said.

While r
elating what had happened to the dispatcher, Brent keyed in a text message to River that read:

Stay put at the inn. No need to head into town. Everything’s fine here. I’m fine.

But while he’d been on the phone, McCready’s regulars had streamed outside, curious to see what was happening near the wharf. They began to mill around the back door, a few even headed down to the beach.

What was it about people hearing gunfire and running outside to check it out? Weren’t they supposed to fear getting out in the open?

Again, Brent reminded them all to move back inside and stay there out of the way. But just as he finished with one warning, River’s ancient Wagoneer shrieked to a stop. He watched as the woman hopped out and scrambled over to where he stood. The yoga pants and little top she wore that didn’t reach her midsection had his eyes on automatic perusing her body. The image of how detailed he’d explore every curve and fold inside the cave flitted through his brain. Under the circumstances, he did his best to rein in those lusty thoughts.

But
from three feet away he saw the fury dancing in her eyes. Brent wasn’t sure if she was angry with him or the situation. Either way, he felt the vibration she gave off—all the raw and heated energy between them bubbled to the surface. She had her hands on her hips, and looked like she was in no mood for an argument. Her chin jutted out and he saw her straighten her spine, ready for a good bout.

“Julian told me what happened.
I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to continue to work the site anymore. This is ridiculous. Someone’s out to see you dead and you’re out here vulnerable to anyone lurking around. There’s no reason to argue with me about it because I’ve already called Marcus and told him how I felt. And you know what? He agreed with me. And he’s in charge. And if I have to, I’ll ban you from the site by telling the council you’re a security risk to my project.”

As soon as
she let him get a word in, he said, “I think you might be right.”