Keeping Cape Summer (A Pelican Pointe novel Book 11)

by Vickie McKeehan

  She switched from the field glasses to her camera, zooming in on the spot. “I can’t wait to share these.” She ran up to the helm and put her arms around him. “This was a great idea. I love having the wind in my face. And look at Merlin. Now I know how he feels hanging his head out the window whenever he’s in the car.”

  She drew in a deep breath of ocean air. “I’ve been so stressed lately over this fundraiser. The masquerade ball was my idea, and I’ve taken heat about it. On top of that, Sydney’s making everyone crazy with catering and venue issues.”

  “It’ll work itself out,” Simon said, sliding his arms around her waist and bringing her closer. “You’ll see. The thing’s almost here anyway and then you can put it behind you. Get work out of your head.”

  “Not hard to do when I’m here with you.”

  Within view of Treasure Island, he cut the engine. “Let’s drift a while and see where the current takes us.”

  She knew he wasn’t talking about the boat when he took her hand and led her into another part of the deck he called the captain’s corner.

  “It’s like a little apartment.”

  “With a little bed,” he added as he spun her into a long, sultry kiss. Sunlight drifted in through the windows as he backed her onto a soft cushion no wider than a bunk. “Remember that first night we made love?”

  “I do.”

  “It’s better on the water.”

  She yanked his shirt up and ran her nails across his chest. “Prove it.”

  He did. Twice.

  By the time they got back to the pier, the sun had dropped low in the fall sky as Simon pulled the boat into its slip. “Kids are waiting for us.”

  Feeling loose and relaxed, she threw her arms around his neck. “Before we get back to the house, I just want to say three little words. Best. Birthday. Ever.”

  Thirty

  The night of the fundraiser, moonlight slipped onto the agenda as the festive vibe bubbled up across town. The celebratory mood lapped over to the daycare center where most of the attendees planned to drop off their kids for the evening.

  The building hopped with activity. With Reverend Larrabee’s help, Ophelia was certain she had everything under control for the dozens of kids that would be left in her care.

  Neenah Brewer and Susan Hollenbeck had stopped taking reservations two days ago because the facility was at full capacity. It seemed every child in town had been slated to stay here during the event, dubbed officially on engraved invitations as the First Annual Hospital Masquerade Ball and Auction.

  Ophelia didn’t think she could jam another child into any of the classrooms even if she tried. Although she’d taken on extra help, the ratio of youngster to adult was still too high to suit her. But she told herself it was only for one night. She’d recruited teen sitters, Sonoma and Sonnet, Faye DeMarco, and Beckham Blackwood to help with activities, like keeping the kids busy until they went to sleep on floor mats used for naps or the sleeping bags they’d brought with them.

  She opened the doors at six that evening for early arrivals. The only thing on her mind was how to entertain close to fifty children of all ages for five or six hours. She crossed her fingers and hoped most would be snuggled asleep by at least nine o’clock.

  As it got closer to seven-thirty, the drop-off line outside grew longer.

  Simon and Gilly could attest to that. They were stuck behind Hayden and Ethan Cody, who were dropping off Nate. Each car that pulled up went through a series of rituals. Either Seth Larrabee or one of the other adults came out to the car to collect their charges, then disappeared back inside and performed the same routine with the next car.

  It was like dropping off at school, an orderly procedure where you just had to wait until your car moved up in line. Of course, others had decided to simply walk their kids up to the church and then walk over to the venue.

  “Why didn’t we do that?” Simon asked.

  “Because I’m wearing five-inch heels and I’m not prepared to walk three blocks in them.”

  “Just thought I’d ask,” he muttered under his breath.

  When it finally came their turn, Ophelia opened the back door and unbelted Jayden first, handing him off to Neenah who was standing to one side. She then reached across and unfastened Delaney out of her carrier. “Come on, baby. Let’s go play with some blocks.”

  Ophelia moved out of the car with Delaney in her arms. “Have a great time,” she said cheerily as she waved them off into the night.

  “Shouldn’t a woman who looks like that be heading to this party herself?” Gilly wondered.

  They’d gone to church services the previous Sunday for the first time as a couple where Simon had made another observation that stuck. “The way Seth looks at Ophelia tells me there’s chemistry there.”

  “Absolutely. I’m just surprised you noticed.”

  “Hey, when our young minister spends most of his time ogling a member of his flock, I notice.”

  Since parking would be a nightmare with everyone crammed into one small corner of town, Brent had issued an order that everyone should leave their cars at the elementary school and walk across Ocean Street. Simon maneuvered the SUV into an open space and cut the engine.

  “How do you like your new wheels so far?”

  “At least we’re not crammed on top of each other. And I like the overhead video where the kids can watch a movie.”

  “I am so jealous. My poor Subaru looks like a relic next to this.”

  “Hey, you can always drive this anytime you want, and I’ll go back to riding my motorcycle.”

  “Simon, I was joking. My car’s fine. I could walk to work if I had to. I even walk to the store sometimes.”

  “Well, the offer’s out there. Are we ready for this madhouse?” he asked, opening the door.

  She looked over at him dressed all in black, even his dress shirt was made from black silk, and her mouth watered. “Got your mask?”

  “You know I do, you’re the one who stuck it down in my pocket.”

  He took her hand and helped her out of the front seat.

  “I feel like a princess.”

  “You look more like a goddess, or should I call you Buttercup tonight?”

  She’d worn a gold beaded gown with a matching beaded cap on the crown of her head and a choker around her neck.

  “Aw, I love it when you say things like that.” Gilly looped her arm around her very own Westley and felt like she was going to the prom again.

  They glided through the elegant doors of what was now the library to purple and golden lights pulsing over the crowd from the second-floor balcony. Some were already waltzing across the lobby to strings and brass and woodwinds.

  The women were decked out in masks and every color of French gowns they’d been able to find at antique boutiques or thrift shops in and around the area.

  While the men were dressed mostly in formal black-tie, there was a handful of guys who’d gone the extra mile and worn outlandish getups. Wally Pierce had on a suit made from gold brocade and a feathery hat sitting on his head.

  She elbowed Simon in the ribs. “See, someone got into the spirit of the evening.”

  “Give me a break. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a bunch of feathers on my head.” But as the words left his mouth, he spotted Caleb Jennings wearing a frilly shirt the color of scarlet that matched his feathery red mask. Even Logan had put on an embroidered jacket in gold, and wore red tights.

  Kinsey pulled Gilly deeper into the ballroom to dance to a rousing rendition of “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

  Left alone, Simon sauntered up to Logan. “Put a crown on your head and you’re the spitting image of Humperdink.”

  Logan looked insulted. “It’s Casanova to you, pal.” He took a long pull on the beer in his hand. “What we won’t do for our women.”

  Simon glanced over at Gilly kicking up her heels with Kinsey, who’d dressed in an over-the-top purple gown with ruffles. The females had formed a conga l
ine of sorts and began dancing around the room.

  “Where do I get one of those?” Simon asked, pointing to the bottle in Logan’s hand. “Bar is on the terrace. Steer clear of that ultra-light stuff. Someone ordered a whole case of it. My guess is we’ll be stuck with that crap for months.”

  Simon wandered that way and ran into Nick at the bar dressed in one of his boring black suits. “What, no fancy getup?”

  The banker cut his eyes to his wife, who was sporting an audaciously low-cut, strapless red gown with what looked like rubies at her ears. “We spent a fortune on that outfit. There was nothing left in the budget for me to splurge on tights. Did you get a look at Logan?”

  “Yeah. But I’m worried we may have to go through this costume thing every year. The invitation said something about this being the ‘first’ of its kind.”

  “Yeah, well, if you ask me this is all Gilly’s fault. It was her idea.”

  Simon tried to loosen the top button of his shirt just so he could breathe. “Don’t blame me, I tried to talk her out of it.”

  “Obviously, you didn’t try hard enough,” Nick grumbled, glancing at his wife again. Jordan was still prancing in the conga line. “She can’t even wear that thing for trick or treating. Now Hutton wants a strapless gown to wear for Halloween.”

  Simon looked shocked. “But she’s only seven.”

  “Exactly. Wait until yours is talking lipstick and makeup.”

  Simon made a face. “I don’t even want to think about that. When’s the auction?”

  “In about an hour. It can’t get here too soon for me.”

  Inside the Community Church, Ophelia heard glass shatter. “What was that?”

  Seth cocked his head, trying to determine where the noise originated. “Sounds like it’s coming from the kitchen. I hope one of the older kids didn’t break a window.”

  But when he rounded the corner into the community room, the second largest space only to the auditorium, Seth spotted a man holding an AR-15. The guy wore two extra ammunition belts across his chest and had some type of device wrapped around his middle section.

  Robert Ogilvie leveled his weapon at the preacher and yelled, “Get your ass over here while you still have one.”

  Seth froze in his tracks.

  Ogilvie advanced on him, using the butt of his rifle to hit Seth in the stomach, causing him to double over and fall to his knees.

  “Next time I say move, preacher man, move or you won’t be giving any more of those flowery sermons on Sunday.”

  The guy quickly secured Seth with zip-tie cuffs around both wrists and forced him to stand up. “Let’s go check on all the little kiddies.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Seth yelled out.

  “Shut up! Just shut your mouth or I’ll tape it shut.”

  Ogilvie forced him out into the hallway and down to the first classroom filled with kids. He opened the door and looked around. “Where’s Ophelia?”

  “Ophelia who?”

  He smashed the rifle into the pastor’s face, breaking Seth’s glasses. “Wrong answer. Let’s try this again. Where is Ophelia? Which room is she in?”

  “I’m new here. I don’t yet know everyone’s name.”

  “Bullshit. I want everyone here to put their backs up against the wall and sit down.”

  Spotting the rifle and the cuffs around Seth’s hands, Susan Hollenbeck shouted, “These are children. They’re no threat to you. Why not let them go?”

  “No one’s going anywhere until I find Ophelia. Sit down and shut up or you’ll get what the preacher got.”

  Ogilvie yelled out for Ophelia, his voice echoing down the hall. “Get out here, Ophelia. I know you’re in here somewhere. I’m not leaving without you. You’re only pissing me off more by not coming out. Show me your sorry face. Now!”

  In the next classroom over, Neenah Brewer heard the commotion and knew something was wrong. She locked the door and shoved a chair under the handle. She gathered her young charges around her and ushered them into the supply closet, shutting the door behind her. Huddling in the dark as the kids started to cry, she took out her cell phone. She had the police department on speed dial and as her hands shook, she punched in the number.

  On patrol near the fundraiser, Eastlyn took the call.

  “There’s a man here yelling and screaming,” Neenah began. “I think Seth is hurt.”

  “Does he have a weapon?” Those words had no sooner left her mouth when Eastlyn heard multiple rounds of gunfire in the background.

  “I’m on my way,” Eastlyn said. “Don’t hang up. Keep this line open. Try to remain calm and stay put where you are. Try to keep the kids as quiet as possible.”

  Eastlyn pulled up to the library, put the cruiser in Park, left the engine running as she dashed inside to find Brent.

  Her eyes frantically scanned the crowd. She zeroed in on her boss deep in conversation with his brother, Ethan. She worked her way over to where they stood and pulled Brent into a corner.

  “There’s a gunman at the church threatening everyone. Shots fired.”

  Brent went into cop-mode. “Get on the horn and call in a tactical unit out of Santa Cruz. Also notify the deputy patrolling this area of the county that we’ll need backup. Do it now.”

  Ethan overheard the conversation as did Simon and Cord.

  All four men began moving toward the exit. As they circulated through the crowd a buzz rippled through the festivities.

  Logan sensed something was wrong and trailed after them. He caught Simon by the arm just as he reached the staircase. “What’s happening?”

  “Eastlyn just reported there’s an active shooter situation at the church. Shots have been fired. Some guy has taken everyone inside hostage. Ethan’s gone to the station to get weapons and vests. That’s all I know so far. But someone needs to stay here and keep everyone calm. Don’t let anyone leave and go running up to the church. The guy starts opening fire on a crowd outside and we’ve lost control of the situation for good. No need to give him additional targets.”

  It didn’t take long for the murmurs to reach Gilly. Her eyes searched for Simon in the throng of people who’d stopped dancing. In one glimpse she caught sight of him talking to Logan near the front door. She made a mad dash in that direction.

  Breathless, she called out, “What’s going on?”

  Simon cut his eyes to hers. “Stay put. I’m going with Brent and Cord. There’s…a situation…at the church.”

  “What kind of situation? I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Don’t tell me to stay here. My child is in there. Tell me what’s happening.”

  Bluntly, he laid out the dire scenario.

  “Oh, my, God. Could the man in there be Ophelia’s ex-boyfriend?”

  That stopped Brent in his tracks. “Give me a name.”

  “Oh. Jeez. Let me think. She told me. It’s…Robert something. It was on the police report Eastlyn took. Robert…Ogilvie. That’s it. He’s been physically abusive in the past. Eastlyn persuaded her to take out a restraining order. Maybe that’s what set him off.”

  “Shit,” Brent uttered. “I remember that now. This guy is a nutcase, more money than God, and parents who keep bailing him out of trouble. Let’s go. Ethan’s bringing the firepower. I want everybody to stay here. That’s an order. Simon, Ryder, and Cord, you come with me. You all have Army training. I can count on you to keep calm and do what you’re told.”

  Brent jumped in Eastlyn’s cruiser, stepped on the gas, and shot off down Cape May. “We’ll set up a perimeter at Main Street and cordon off that part of the block.”

  About that time, Simon spotted a woman shepherding a group of older children away from the church and across Cape May. “That’s Ophelia.”

  Brent brought the cruiser to a stop and Simon got out. “Is everyone here okay?”

  Fourteen-year-old Beckham wiped his nose. “Faye’s still in there. I couldn’t get to her. She’s back there with the
young toddlers.”

  Simon’s gut clenched with dread.

  Ophelia wrapped up Sonnet Rafferty who was still shaking. She took a step toward Simon. “It’s him. Robert is in there terrorizing everyone. He has weapons, ammunition and some device strapped to his chest. I got a few of the older kids out the front door and ran. I should go back and try to reason with him.”

  “Uh-uh. He’s beyond reasoning with now. You go back in there and he’ll most likely kill you on sight. Take the kids and keep heading toward the library.”

  Simon watched her take off with the brood before crawling back inside the patrol car. “We know there’s only one shooter and he’s armed. Ophelia saw an explosive device attached to his chest. This guy’s not messing around.”

  Brent pulled up to the corner of Cape May and Main about the same time Ethan appeared in another patrol car with the weapons.

  “I loaded up everything there was out of the cabinets and everything out of the evidence locker,” Ethan told Brent. “Even that 30-30 Winchester you confiscated from Rick Riordan for hunting out of season.”

  Brent took out the bullhorn and called out to Ogilvie. “Robert, so far you haven’t done anything that we can’t fix. But you need to let every single one of those kids go now. The longer you stretch this out, the more trouble you’re in. Are you listening, Robert? Put down your weapon and come out now before you get in so deep that Mommy and Daddy’s money can’t buy you out of this.”

  Brent turned to the others. “That should get some kind of reaction.”

  It wasn’t the one Brent wanted. Ogilvie opened the double doors and appeared on the top of the steps, a knife to the reverend’s throat.

  “My life’s over anyway. I’ve got nothing to lose,” Ogilvie shouted. “I came here to kill that lying bitch Ophelia. And I’m not leaving here until I see her blood running down the streets of this bumfuck town. Get her back here or I swear I’ll start killing everyone inside, one by one. I’m ready to blow this stinking church sky-high and take everybody with me.”

  Using the pair of night-vision goggles Ethan had provided, Cord had been watching Ogilvie. “I have eyes on the suspect. In my opinion, you take him out with a headshot and that device won’t explode. He’s got it rigged all wrong for instant impact. Simon, you take a look; tell me if I’m wrong.”