Last Chance Harbor

by Vickie McKeehan

  Finishing his beer, Brent tossed the empty into the recycle bin. “I’m afraid you’re right. That’s why I’m determined to get to the bottom of it now.” He turned to look at Ryder. “El Cerrito PD picked up a Melinda Sykes four days ago for having a phony driver’s license.”

  “Why didn’t you say something? El Cerrito? Where is that? Near San Francisco, right?”

  “Who’s Melinda Sykes?” Julianne asked. But studying Ryder’s face, she got her answer. “Ah. Bethany.”

  “I’m going up there.”

  “It won’t do you any good,” Brent said. “They charged her with a misdemeanor because there was no loss of money involved and released her within twenty-four hours. She’s due in court next month for a hearing. If she doesn’t show, they’ll issue a warrant and pick her up then.”

  But it was a frustrated Ryder who later took Julianne on a walk on the beach. Under the pearly glow of a half-moon, he linked his fingers with hers.

  “Brent’s doing his best to pressure me into dropping this thing, forgetting about it. Don’t be mad at me but...”

  “But you can’t drop it. I understand you have to see this play out. Why don’t we do this? Now that we know she’s living in the Bay Area, let’s do our homework and get a list of the military installations in the area. You already know she targets service personnel.”

  “Seems like a reasonable place to start.”

  “Good. Contact your private investigator.”

  “I’ve tried that route.”

  “I know. But this time give him the name and address she gave the cops when they picked her up with the phony driver’s license. Maybe that way the PI could make the rounds with her picture, do a little advance recon before we get there. If he does get lucky enough to find her, I’ll go with you when you confront her.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “I’m crazy like that. Now might be a good time to be honest with you. I’ve done something I’m afraid has the potential to make our police chief furious when he finds out.”

  “You?” Ryder breathed in the night air and turned her into his arms, tilted her chin up. “What did you do, jaywalk across Main Street?”

  Julianne ignored the dig. “I’ve been looking for Cooper Jennings, doing my research online about him. I’ve also been trying to look up the 1984 graduating class at UC Santa Barbara. But that’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Hopeless. The ring wasn’t engraved.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  “Because I think Cooper Jennings is the key to Layne and Brooke’s disappearance. He makes his living as a photographer, travels quite a bit, that’s why it’s been hard to pin him down.”

  “But he was a child when this happened. What could a nine-year-old know about such things?”

  She repeated the conversation she’d had with Scott. “I won’t know exactly what Cooper knows until I locate him and ask him myself. Let’s agree you want to find Bethany and I’m motivated to see what Cooper has to say. I tracked down his last known address. It’s in Sausalito.”

  “Not Oregon?”

  “And not Orinda either. So at some point, let’s agree to take a trip to the Bay Area together. There’s a huge salvage yard up there that sells stuff they’ve stripped out of schools. If anyone asks that’s why we’re going—to check out any material we can upcycle for the school.”

  “When? When do we make the trip?”

  “Whenever you can manage time off from the farm and the job site. I’ve got the summer so it won’t be a problem for me. If all you can get off is a Sunday then we’ll make it a day trip. But obviously I’m hoping we can spend a weekend up there and get some answers.”

  They looked out across Smuggler’s Bay, listened to the waves hit the sand.

  “How many people do you think have stood right in this same spot where we are tonight and thought about murder?”

  “Solving one or contemplating one?”

  “Hmm, good question. We wouldn’t be thinking about confronting Cooper Jennings if someone hadn’t done the contemplating and then followed through with it. That’s what we think happened, right?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Are you okay living in the house, spending a night there alone?”

  Her heart felt like it wanted to drop out of her chest. But she hid it well. “Surprisingly, I don’t feel the house has any lingering bad vibes.”

  She wanted to get to the root of why he’d asked the question. “Is that a nice, polite way of telling me you aren’t staying tonight?”

  “Of course, I’m staying. I just don’t want people to start gossiping about the new principal because of me before she ever starts the job.”

  She let out a huge sigh. “If I’m not allowed to go about living my life here then it isn’t the place I thought it was.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dedicating Phillips Park turned out to be an emotional day for the Harris family. Nick and Jordan showed up with their children in tow and tried to put on a happy face for the kids. But anyone with eyes could see they were both struggling with their memories of the man who’d brought them together.

  Julianne and Ryder stood back admiring Troy’s work. At the entrance, the simple wooden sign with the words, Phillips Park, hung between two stone pillars, metal lanterns on top of each. It became evident soon enough there were a lot of new things to explore. Landon and Caleb had planted dogwood and elm, cypress and birch and put down beds filled with golden larkspur and white river daisies.

  To entertain the toddlers, Cord and Keegan brought a petting zoo—a few rabbits, kittens and puppies from the veterinary clinic. It worked wonders to keep the younger ones happy. For the older kids Murphy orchestrated a treasure hunt with clues that ended in a series of prizes—toys, music CDs, costume jewelry, ball caps, stuffed animals—no one went home empty-handed to commemorate the day.

  Babies napped in strollers. Adults sprawled on blankets to doze in the sun.

  The long day culminated with the town’s first movie night—the feature-length film chosen, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. With Ryder’s help, Julianne had spent the previous week getting the word out. The effort had paid off. Glancing around what was now Phillips Park, the movie idea had garnered the attention of adults, young and old, and kids alike. The place was packed.

  Under a starry sky, people gathered to watch the orphan boy, once again, discover that he’s really a wizard. No matter how many times you watched it and knew the ending, the magical storyline resonated.

  They brought blankets to sit on or their own lawn chairs, picnic baskets and takeout from the Diner. Murphy had donated the popcorn. Perry Altman the ability to pop it. And the local soft drink distributor out of San Sebastian had donated the use of a fountain to dispense soda. They used the side of the bank for their giant movie screen and a donated projector from Jill and Ross Campbell.

  While they waited for darkness to start the film, the prevailing buzz ran hot to cold. First, it was about Perry’s new partner, a hot, young graduate student from the Bay Area and whether or not the two men had plans for opening a winery in town. Or was it a brewery?

  It was a mystery for sure and no one was talking.

  Spotting Isabella Rialto in the crowd sitting with Logan and Kinsey and their babies, Julianne realized there were all different kinds of puzzles. There were enough rumors floating around about the lovely Izzy to fill the entire park. For some reason, Julianne got the sense that the same tongues at play with one newcomer applied to her as well. It wasn’t so much what they said to her face but how they acted whenever they were around her, especially if Ryder was nearby.

  When Ryder came up behind her, kissed her ear, she settled against him, noting the display of affection garnered a few stares in the process. She shrugged off the gawking snoops, chalked it up to nothing more than curiosity.

  “I want you to know you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time,” Ryder whispered.


  “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me. Want to prove it later?”

  As the skies darkened, the projector began to flicker and the film credits rolled.

  “Maybe we could sneak out and I could show you.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  The town council had scheduled Pelican Pointe’s version of “music over the bay” for the third weekend in June. It wasn’t the local favorite Blue Skies or Ninth Dog that raced onto the scene as a headliner but a couple of talented sibling teens, named Sonnet and Sonoma Rafferty.

  Somehow word had gotten out that the person to see about headlining a show this summer was Julianne. The two girls had shown up on Julianne’s doorstep the day after Memorial Day to show her what they could do with a fiddle.

  After tuning up, it turned out the twelve- and thirteen-year-old sisters could do quite a bit. They didn’t have to get completely through Cajun Fiddle before Julianne was convinced these two were her “stars” for the very first event.

  “What else can you play?”

  “We play country and a few Irish jigs our dad taught us.”

  “Who is your dad?”

  “He owns the T-Shirt Shop. Over there, across the street,” said Sonoma. “Malachi Rafferty. We work there sometimes while he goes over to Santa Cruz on weekends to play in a club.”

  “So he’s a musician as well?”

  Sonnet nodded. “Sure. But during the week he sells T-shirts and other stuff to the tourists.”

  “When we have them, that is,” Sonoma added. “We did really good in March during the street fair this year.”

  “Well,” Julianne corrected automatically. “You did well during the street fair. Is your dad at the store right now?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because it looks like I’ve found my headliners for the first show and need to nail down his permission.”

  Single father Malachi Rafferty stood behind the counter of his cramped T-Shirt Shop where he spent every day from nine to five. In the four years he’d owned the place, he hadn’t bothered naming it anything other than T-Shirt Shop. It seemed unnecessary to get cutesy with the name. He sold souvenir shirts in various colors with the words “Smuggler’s Bay Pelican Pointe” silk-screened on the front or back. His business targeted the tourists who passed through town wanting to pick up a memento from the beach to take back home with them. Along with tacky things like shot glasses, ash trays, sea shells, and the like, he crammed as many beach essentials next to the counter as he could. Suntan oil, flip-flops, and swimsuits made for pricey impulse buys from people who hadn’t remembered to pack what they needed. Since his wife, Melody, had died three years earlier, he’d gotten complaints that the swimwear on display was outdated and looked it. But to Malachi that was their problem, not his. He never reordered a new line until the old stuff sold.

  When they’d learned Melody had cancer, they’d decided to chunk their life back in Los Angeles to look for a new place to start over. They’d taken a trip through Pelican Pointe and fell for its proximity to the ocean. The town’s affordability had been a draw too. With starting up a new business, their money might last longer. But that notion hadn’t worked out during the unforeseen downturn in the economy. They hadn’t figured on it taking this long for the town to make a comeback. By the time it had, Melody had lost her battle with lymphoma.

  When the door opened and a woman walked in, followed by his daughters, Malachi sensed trouble. Mainly because he was on his own where his two teenage girls were concerned. Even though Sonoma was the oldest, Sonnet was just as willing to rebel. Lately anytime either one got out of his sight, they came up with ways to torment him or get into trouble. He never knew what they were planning, or what to expect from day to day.

  “Mr. Rafferty, I’m Julianne Dickinson. I’m your new neighbor from across the street. You know, the house at the end of the block I recently redid.”

  “You did a great job, really improved it from the eyesore it used to be.”

  “Good to hear you approve. Tell me, were you aware your daughters auditioned for me not fifteen minutes ago for the local talent concert I mentioned to the town council several weeks back?”

  Malachi shot his daughters a stern look. “I told them not to bother you. That it would be a waste of time since folks around here are more into Blue Skies than anything else. Apparently, they didn’t listen.”

  “Normally I would encourage children to heed their parents but in this case, I’m afraid boldness had a definite upside. Did you teach them how to play?”

  “I used to give lessons back in Los Angeles.” He also used to play in a well-known, successful rock band but he didn’t intend to go down that road again by bringing it up. He hoped his precocious daughters had been just as tight-lipped.

  “Then you must be as musically inclined as your daughters?”

  “I play guitar now and then, usually over in Santa Cruz on Friday and Saturday nights to bring in some extra cash.”

  Julianne smiled at him. “Excellent. I’d like to see you and your daughters headline the show.”

  “What about Blue Skies? They’re usually the band of choice around here.”

  “I’m sure they are. But as of today, no one in the band has approached me with any interest in playing at the pier. They’ve had several weeks to contact me since the council voted to put on the summer concert event at the wharf. We have an entire summer to fill the slots up, so I’m sure when Blue Skies has an opening and they’re ready, they’ll let me know. In the meantime, I’m sure several local musicians will want to get in on the act, which is the reason I suggested this in the first place to provide a venue for talent in the area. Since Sonnet and Sonoma took the initiative, I’m recommending you and your daughters to appear together onstage and kick things off for us. They’re quite good. Let’s hope you’re half as good as they are.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I hope you say yes because you have less than two weeks to come up with a playlist.”

  When concert day arrived, the town turned out front and center. Again, they hauled out their lawn chairs to sit up on the wharf or stretched blankets over the ground much like they had with movie night. Even fishermen made their way into port, dropping anchor to take in the performance from the decks of their boats.

  A steady stream of tourists started drifting from the shops despite a heavy marine layer hanging over the water most of the day. Right up to show time Julianne was certain that the fog would ruin the whole thing. But then, thirty minutes before Malachi Rafferty and his daughters took the stage, the clouds miraculously parted and revealed a perfect summer solstice sky.

  Julianne fought the temptation to glance around looking for Scott—it was the only thing that added up. There wasn’t time for such foolish thinking on her part though. She sought out Malachi to make sure he was ready and found him braiding Sonoma’s hair.

  “Is everything okay over here?” Julianne asked.

  “I’m nervous,” Sonnet admitted. “But Dad says there’s nothing to it. Just go out there and play like we were standing in our own living room.”

  “That sounds like excellent advice. It’s almost go time.”

  “How many people showed up?” Malachi wanted to know.

  “The whole town.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. Okay girls, let’s go out there and play our hearts out. Just get into the music and don’t worry about the crowd.”

  The pier made for an intimate setting. Ryder and Troy had put together a stage, a platform two-feet high and twelve-feet square to give the performers an elevated advantage. With Malachi on guitar and Sonoma and Sonnet on violin, as soon as the trio began the first notes of Boot Scootin’ Boogie, the audience roared its enthusiasm.

  No one was more surprised than Julianne when Malachi began to sing out the lyrics. Her mouth dropped open as Ryder whispered to her, “Where did you say you found him? Why does his voice sound so familiar?”

 
“His daughters found me. They were right across the street. This guy owns the T-Shirt Shop. But wow, the question is why. His kids are prodigies and he has the voice of a rock star.”

  “Just shows you this town is full of surprises.”

  It was as if Malachi had used his voice and initial song to calm his daughters. Because after that one number, he let them have the floor. Sonnet and Sonoma didn’t disappoint. When Malachi switched from guitar to mandolin, he led the girls from lively tunes into soulful classics and then back into toe-tapping Celtic ditties that had the crowd moving and on its feet.

  Julianne noticed the pure pride on Malachi’s face. The proud papa watched the throng get into the music.

  She and Ryder never sat down. They swayed on their feet, arms locked around each other. That was pretty much what the other couples did as well—Nick and Jordan, Troy and Bree, Murphy and Carla, Ethan and Hayden, Cord and Keegan, Logan and Kinsey, Pete Alden and new wife, Betty.

  A group of older women—Ina, Marabelle, Myrtle, and Prissie kept time sitting in their folding chairs.

  Kids danced. But two teen boys, Jason Broderick and Connor Davis, seemed particularly fascinated with the main attraction—Sonoma and Sonnet.

  Ninety minutes later when the Raffertys finally wound down, the enthusiastic multitude showed their appreciation. The town got to its feet, gave them a standing O while the boats in the harbor used their foghorns to signal a ringing endorsement.

  A roar went up when the performers responded with an encore, a bouncy Irish jig that kept everyone moving for one final round.

  Once it was all over, Julianne approached the trio. “You were marvelous, a true Pelican Pointe treasure. Thank you. I hope you’ll do it again before summer’s end.”