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Pelican Pointe Boxed Set Books 1 - 3 (A Pelican Pointe Novel)

Page 45

by Vickie McKeehan


  “It never occurred to either one of us that you’d gone off exploring on your own. Have you eaten?”

  “I fixed myself a sandwich. Look, for the first time in a long time, I’m seeing that there’s a definite upside to starting fresh in a new place, especially one as peaceful as it is here.”

  Jordan took a closer look at Hayden’s face. Had she been crying? “You look like crap,” she told Hayden before she got up from the table and pulled the woman into a hug. “Want some tea?”

  “I’d love some. You must be a good friend, Jordan; otherwise you’d lie and tell me how wonderful I look.”

  As she put the kettle on to heat, Jordan said, “Sorry, but you look like you’ve been crying. The puffy eyes gave it away. Did something happen with Ethan?”

  “Ethan is an asshole.”

  Nick couldn’t help it, he laughed. “Hayden, the guy was right there with us trying to figure out what had happened to you. He was really worried about where you had gotten off to.”

  That made Hayden feel small for all the terrible things she’d silently voiced about him during her shower. “So what you’re saying is I should apologize to him, too.”

  “It’s up to you, but it couldn’t hurt. Ethan has a good heart and he genuinely cares about people.”

  Somehow she knew that was true. It only made her feel worse. “Look, I need to tell you guys something about my hike.” She glanced at Jordan standing at the stove and then Nick.

  “Then you should sit down,” he offered. “We pretty much get all of our confessions out around the kitchen table.”

  Hayden took a deep breath. “The reason I was gone so long is because I took a lot of pictures, covered a lot of ground. I must have walked close to eight miles. During my hike I stumbled upon the back entrance to Eternal Gardens.”

  Nick eyed her warily and very much feared what she was about to say.

  “I found Scott’s gravesite. I also had a conversation with him.” Hayden saw Jordan’s mouth fall open, saw Nick chew the inside of his mouth. A gesture she suspected signaled he was annoyed. But she had to get this out. “I thought about keeping this to myself. Maybe I should. But in light of what happened earlier I decided if you were worried about me, trusted me with so much, given me a roof over my head, you deserved to know. I don’t want you to think I’m holding stuff back from you. You two are the only friends I have here. And I didn’t have that many friends before.”

  “What did Scott say to you, Hayden?” Jordan finally squeaked out.

  Hayden looked from Nick to Jordan. “I want you to know I’m not trying to upset either one of you by sharing this.”

  “Implying that this will indeed upset us,” Nick said as he stood up, squeezed Jordan’s hand before making her take a seat at the table. They exchanged places while he waited for the kettle to heat and remained standing to hear what Hayden had to say.

  “It may. It wasn’t a long conversation. But Scott knew things about me, the real me, the one someone is looking for.”

  When the kettle whistled, Nick poured the water over a couple of teabags and brought the cups over to the table. “That’s…”

  “Crazy? I know. Scott spent a few minutes philosophizing about my mess of a life. When I asked him about how he knew, he said that there were a lot of things he knew now that he hadn’t known while he’d been alive. I have to say it was almost like he talked in riddles.”

  Nick watched Hayden and felt a measure of sympathy. He’d spent a year of his life with Scott’s ghost haunting him every step of the way. Even after he’d shown up at Jordan’s front door with the intent of unburdening his guilt, he remembered that time he’d spent in hell when he had believed Scott’s death had been his fault. Nick knew firsthand survivor’s guilt could be an impossibly heavy burden that you had to eventually unload. But that didn’t explain why Hayden was seeing Scott.

  “Yeah, Scott was always good at that,” Nick finally confessed. “Since you seem to be in the loop now, no one loves to talk more than Scott. What else did he say to you, Hayden?”

  “Just that he was sorry about how some things had turned out. And that I should get myself back to the cove.” Hayden finally took a breath. “He knew you guys were looking for me. The whole thing was surreal.”

  “I take it Scott hit the nail on the head when it came to the real you,” Jordan finally said with a look of dread.

  “Yes,” was all Hayden said, as she sipped her tea. “But he made me feel better about things while he was at it. How can I make it up to you about missing the trip into town, Jordan?”

  “We’ll go tomorrow,” Jordan promised her. But Hayden noted Jordan seemed distracted. She finished her tea and got up to go.

  “Well, I guess I’ll head out. If I have to eat crow, I need to get it done before going to bed.”

  After Hayden left, Nick turned to Jordan and asked, “You okay? You’re awfully quiet.”

  “Hey, I’m just fine. If the son of a bitch would rather talk to everyone and anyone but me, why the hell should I care?”

  Chapter 9 Book 2

  Hayden pulled up to the curb in front of Ethan’s house. She noticed the Honda Ridgeline parked behind his truck which told her the man wasn’t alone. Fine, she thought, I’m not here to interrupt his evening with whomever he chooses to spend it. Reluctantly, she got out and marched up to the front door on a mission. She rang the bell.

  When the door opened Ethan filled the door frame. Music drifted from behind him. The Foo Fighters’ Learn to Fly echoed from his speakers. Between his fingers, he held a bottle of Corona.

  “Well, well, well, Hayden-no-middle-initial-Ryan, what brings you to my front door tonight? Here to file a misconduct report on me?”

  On the drive in she’d rehearsed her spiel. “Not at all. This won’t take long. I owe you an apology. Earlier you responded to an official call from a concerned citizen. You had no way of knowing whether I was in real danger. But you were worried about my safety, concerned about my well-being, and acted accordingly as a public official. I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk earlier when you were simply doing your job.” With that she turned on her heels and headed to her car, leaving him standing on his porch with his mouth open.

  Brent leaned over his brother’s shoulder and cocked his head, watched as the woman’s long legs ate up the sidewalk, striding back to her Mini like a rocket propelled her along the way.

  “So that’s who has you all knotted up?”

  “Screw you. I’m just fine, thanks.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say. Is that why you ran her through NCIC?”

  “Shit. Come back inside and I’ll tell you all I know.”

  After listening to Ethan list Hayden Ryan’s issues, Brent wasn’t impressed with the woman. “And nothing came up in NCIC?”

  “I can read a damned report, Brent,” he snapped. But then he ran a hand through his hair and calmly added, “Sorry. No. No hits.”

  “Then Hayden Ryan isn’t her real name.”

  “Who says you don’t have psychic abilities, Brent?” Ethan scoffed.

  “Okay, so you’d already figured that much out. Who says you aren’t a good cop?”

  “Let’s not go down that road tonight. How do I find out what she’s hiding from or from whom? Did she witness a crime? Did someone try to force her to do something illegal and she panicked and took off?”

  “You know Ethan, just because the name didn’t come up with a hit, doesn’t mean she’s innocent.”

  “I’m not so gullible that I haven’t considered that possibility. But every vibe in me, along with everything I’ve learned from you in the last four years as a cop, tells me the woman doesn’t have a criminal bone in her body.”

  “And what a body. Her legs aren’t bad, either. Not to mention, you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.”

  “Not that you got a look up close.”

  “Yeah, it wouldn’t be a hardship to get a lot closer to that, though.”

  Hayden blew out a b
reath of relief, glad that little scene was behind her. As she drove down Ocean Street past the wharf, ear-splitting rock blasting out from McCready’s drifted through the open windows of her car. Scott’s words blinked into her head. “Stop looking for perfection and start seeing the possibilities in a new place.” She couldn’t see possibilities if she didn’t experience her new surroundings. On impulse, she decided to pull into the lot designated for bar patrons only and check out the bar.

  Inside the dimly lit pub she recognized the bartender as the big man she’d seen on the pier the day she’d pulled Justin Hardin out of the bay. For a Sunday night the place was packed, standing room at the bar and every table taken. All three pool tables were busy with what appeared to be some kind of friendly competition. She looked around for a place to stand and squeezed between a woman in her forties and a man who looked eighty standing at the end of the ancient, scarred mahogany bar.

  Hayden ordered the house red and tried to concentrate on the music coming from the juke where Bruce Springsteen wondered what it was like in the back of a pink Cadillac. All the while she kept thinking about Ethan’s face when she’d apologized. Those dark brown eyes of his hadn’t been warm tonight, they’d been stone cold. He hadn’t even invited her inside. He’d definitely had company, which was none of her business.

  Ethan Cody could do whatever he wanted and with whom. She didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  The friendly pool game started getting less friendly as someone complained about the other bumping into an arm as they’d lined up to take their shot.

  When a seat at the bar opened up, the old man standing next to her nudged her and gallantly offered, “Come on, pretty lady, have a seat.”

  But when the fortyish woman balked at his gesture, Hayden motioned for her to take the stool instead.

  “Thanks, honey, don’t mind if I do. I’m Janie Pointer. I own the Snip ’N Curl. And you’re the newcomer hereabouts they call Hayden. What kind of name is Hayden anyway? You one of those lesbians? It’s okay if you are. I’m not judgmental that way.”

  “Uh, no. Is your sister Abby, the one who works at the Diner Sundays and Mondays?”

  “Yep. That’s my baby sister, practically raised that girl when our mama ran off with a cook working out at the Denny’s on the interstate. Got me a little three-year-old niece, too. Wanna see a picture?” Janie automatically reached for her purse, dug in her handbag until she pulled out a billfold, slid out a photo of an adorable, red-haired, little girl.

  Knowing how she’d once hoped for nieces from Sydney, Hayden commented, “She’s beautiful.”

  “We named her Colleen what with all that red hair and all. Look at those freckles. Takes after her daddy. He’s in Afghanistan now, on his second tour.”

  Hearing that, Scott Phillips popped into her head. “I hope he stays safe.”

  “Paul Bonner is Colleen’s father. But he had to join the military, couldn’t find any work around here within a good sixty miles. He and Abby plan to get married as soon as he finishes this tour though.”

  By this time, the pool players were working up to full tilt and getting louder. The verbal insults ratcheted up a notch. The banter flew back and forth with some heat. Someone accused the other of cheating.

  Before Hayden knew what was happening fists started pounding on faces, glass shattered, pool cues broke, and arms jabbed in all directions.

  Then someone yelled for Flynn to call the cops.

  When Ethan’s phone rang practically across the street from McCready’s he’d just taken two steaks off the grill. Ethan had already downed three beers. But Brent had thrown back four. “Yeah,” he barked into the phone as he held the receiver between his ear and his shoulder.

  Brent watched the scowl form on Ethan’s face as he listened to the call and knew when Ethan slammed down the phone he was on the clock.

  “Damn it, the Turley brothers are tearing up McCready’s again.” Ethan was already reaching for some breath mints, as well as his badge and his gun.

  “Hey, don’t look at me. You’re more sober than I am. Plus, I had to bust them two weeks ago over in Scotts Valley. It’s your turn.”

  “Shit.” Since there was no jail in Pelican Pointe that meant Ethan had a trip to Santa Cruz in his immediate future. “Can’t you at least do the booking for me? You’re going back to Santa Cruz anyway.”

  “Been drinking, bro. I was planning on bunking here tonight.” Brent turned a deaf ear to his brother as the curse words spewed forth like Mount St. Helens.

  As he watched Ethan stomp toward the front door, Brent reminded him, “And watch out for that little bastard Sal, he likes to sneak up behind people.”

  When Ethan walked into the bar he was in no mood for pleasantries. His three days off had been a joke and damn it all, his steak was getting cold.

  Looking around at the mess, all hell had broken loose. Tables were overturned. Chairs were still flying. Broken glass littered the ancient linoleum floor.

  Ethan didn’t take the time to ask questions about who was to blame. History and Flynn McCready’s phone call told him the Turley brothers had picked another fight, probably over losing a pool game.

  Why Flynn kept allowing them back in the bar was anyone’s guess?

  Ethan grabbed Derek Stovall and pushed Lenny Jacobson out of the way to get to Sam Turley who was sitting on top of Mel Stubbs beating the crap out of the guy’s face.

  Ethan jerked Sam off Mel and threw his forearm across Sam’s chest long enough to hold him in place while he slapped handcuffs over his wrists. “You’re under arrest, Sam. Again.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Ethan saw movement.

  But it was too late. Sam Turley’s brother, Sal had already come up behind him holding a broken beer bottle, the jagged edge pointed toward Ethan.

  “Let go of my brother, Ethan. You take those cuffs off him right now.”

  Ethan straightened and yelled, “Sal Turley, if you don’t drop that bottle right this minute I’ll consider it a lethal weapon and you’ll be in more trouble than drunk and disorderly. I’ll lock you up for assault with a deadly weapon and throw in the attempted assault of a police officer.”

  Drunk, Sal ignored the warning. Sal lunged at Ethan anyway. And dropped like a rock when a whiskey bottle came crashing down on the top of his head.

  Nothing could have prepared Ethan for the sight of turning around and seeing Hayden Ryan standing over Sal’s crumpled body, gripping a whiskey bottle in her closed fist.

  Chapter 10 Book 2

  Monday morning Hayden brought Jordan along with her to Pelican Pointe where she opened up a bank account. Afterward they drove over to Ocean Street and to the little Spanish-style bungalow with the red-tiled roof.

  While Hayden walked around the house several times peering in every available window, Jordan remained strangely noncommittal. Since leaving the bank, she acted as though she knew something about the house Hayden didn’t.

  “The front porch is a little small but since we intend to have a business here rather than a home it will do nicely, don’t you think?” Personally, she preferred a big porch like the one out at Promise Cove. But she had to remind herself that up until five months ago she’d lived in a high-rise condo without so much as a four-foot front stoop.

  “The good thing is the outside doesn’t need painting. Of course the yard needs work. And it doesn’t have a garage. But that just means it’s more geared to a business than an actual place to live.”

  Finally Hayden’s enthusiasm rubbed off on Jordan and she broke her silence. “That front room could use a couple of fresh coats of color on those walls no matter what the owner decides to do with it,” Jordan concluded. “That plaster has holes in it.” She pointed to the flooring through the glass. “But the wood floor’s in good shape. You can tell that from here.” All of a sudden she blurted out, “I should probably mention that this house used to belong to Autumn Lassiter.”

  When Hayden didn’t show any sign of recognition at the nam
e, Jordan knew she hadn’t made the connection to Ethan Cody. And after listening to Hayden’s tirade about the deputy sheriff during the ride into town that morning, Jordan wasn’t sure how the news would go over.

  She hated to burst Hayden’s bubble but… “Autumn ran a candle and gift boutique here, Hidden Moon Bay Gifts. She made her own line of scented candles using all kinds of herbs she grew herself. She made her own gift baskets for years and delivered them around town until the day she died.”

  “Really? That explains the missing sign. How cool is that? Did she live here, too?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “When did she die?”

  “Not long after Scott deployed to Iraq. I remember because I was pregnant at the time. I ventured into town one day to do a little exploring. I was lonely. I think Autumn could sense my moodiness. Anyway, I walked into her shop that day. She fixed me a cup of tea. We had a nice chat. She was perhaps the only person who was friendly to me at the time besides Murphy. And then about two weeks later I stopped by and there was a sign on the door. She’d passed away. Autumn was gone and so was the shop.”

  “How sad.”

  “It was incredibly sad. I don’t think anyone’s lived here since. Look Hayden, I don’t know how to tell you this so I’ll just say it. Autumn Lassiter was Ethan Cody’s grandmother.”

  Hayden’s face fell. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh. Perfect. Just perfect. That figures. So the man owns two houses in this little town.”

  “They both belonged to Autumn. We could talk to him. I’m sure he might…”

  “Forget it, Jordan. It wasn’t just the argument Saturday night. Ethan and I are just too different. The cop in him is never going to trust someone like me. I’ll start looking for another place.”

  But just then, Hayden spotted Ethan walking toward them. “Ladies, how’s it going this morning?”

 

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