The Coast Road Home

by Vickie McKeehan

They’d started the day in a spitting drizzle that had dried up midday. Thankfully Gideon was easy on her, avoiding the gnarly waves and sticking to somewhat calmer waters. But the ocean was fierce around her, more so than any of the rivers she’d kayaked before now. Her lack of exercise showed early on when her muscles began to ache from the constant paddling. But they managed to have fun racing one another, back and forth, until she couldn’t take it anymore.

  She was the first one to give in. “I’m done. And I’m starving. We need to make it to shore to eat. Please.”

  Gideon paddled up next to her. They were still fifty yards or so from land. “You did really well for not having been on the water in such a long time.”

  Eyeing the shoreline through the waves bobbing up and down, she started paddling. “I don’t care about that. I just want food. A juicy burger maybe, piled high with everything on it. Last one on the beach has to buy.”

  Without another word, she took off, using her last bit of arm strength, and Gideon followed. Marley came ashore in a pocket of coastline not far from her house, breathing hard, and exhausted.

  Bent over, hands on her knees and trying to catch her breath, she looked up to see a woman she didn’t recognize, staring at her.

  “Hi, I’m Hannah Summers, I take care of the community garden up at the lighthouse. I’m married to Caleb Jennings from The Plant Habitat. And I’m also Faye’s aunt. I had breakfast with Keva this morning, and she mentioned you might be looking for a job.”

  Marley removed her helmet and cleared her throat. “I’m not sure about that anymore. I mean, I love to garden, and I do plan to start my own over the summer, but right now, I’m not sure what I want to do…exactly.”

  “Good. Then maybe I can persuade you to sit down with my niece Faye and see what’s going on with her.”

  “Why me?”

  “I brought Bette lunch today. She mentioned you were a good listener. I’ve already cleared it with my brother, Andy.”

  “Andy’s your brother?”

  “Yeah. Long story. But I’ll tell you that some other time. The priority now is Faye.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’ve heard around town, but I’m no longer a practicing therapist. Surely Keva must’ve mentioned that, too. As for Bette, I thought she might need to talk to someone who’d gone through a divorce for the same reasons. I just needed her to understand that it wasn’t worth ending it all.”

  “Trust me, you got through. When I got there this morning, Bette was cleaning her house, doing dishes, picking up the threads of her normal routine. I haven’t seen her like that for ages. Two months ago, she was still curled up in a ball on the sofa and wouldn’t budge.”

  “Glad to hear it. But it was just a pep talk.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Faye might benefit from the same kind of pep talk. Look, Andy and I are at our wit’s end with Faye. She used to be centered around school. She cared for Beckham. She used to take care of her turtle. Now it seems none of those things are important to her. We want to know why before the social worker shows up at Andy’s door. Just come for dinner tonight. My house. Here’s the address.” Hannah handed off a piece of paper. “Just meet Faye, have a conversation, and tell us what you think is going on.”

  Marley winced. “It’s not that simple.”

  Gideon came up alongside Marley and took off his helmet. “What’s going on?”

  Hannah related the gist of what she’d asked. “We tried to make an appointment at the mental health facility in San Sebastian but found the wait time was the middle of July. It’s even longer in Santa Cruz. We need to have some type of response prepared for when Carla Vargas shows up. Don’t you agree, Dr. Nighthawk?”

  Marley refused to let that stand without a challenge. “But even if I meet Faye and talk with her, my opinion won’t carry any weight with the social worker. I’m not licensed here.”

  “What happened since this morning?” Gideon asked. “When she left the hospital, she seemed willing to turn things around, make amends to her brother, and to Beckham. What changed?”

  “Andy asked for her phone. He found another number she hadn’t mentioned. We’re concerned she doesn’t get how dangerous the online world can be.”

  “I see. I suppose we could sit down and have dinner,” Gideon suggested, hope in his voice while looking straight at Marley. “Just a conversation around the dinner table.”

  Marley resigned herself to going. “Do I need to bring anything? A hotdish maybe?”

  Hannah rocked on her toes, elated. “No, just bring yourselves. See you tonight around seven.”

  After the woman had gone, Marley sent Gideon a hard scowl. “Thanks for backing me up. Not.”

  Unfazed, Gideon draped an arm off her shoulder as they walked up to the house. “Haven’t psyche majors always thought they could change the world? Make it a better place?”

  Marley shoved an elbow into his ribs, but he managed to dodge the brunt of the impact. “Oh, how we’ve been maligned through the years, sometimes used as punching bags in school. I can take the criticism about my once proud profession, but for that woman to get her hopes up borders on an unrealistic expectation. I’ve never been a miracle worker, and I’m not now.”

  “You’re getting cranky. I need to feed you. As your former doctor, I say your blood sugar must be a little low, so you might need to eat. Let’s grab Barkley, take my car, and head to the Hilltop.”

  “I left Barkley in the laundry room. Let’s hope he hasn’t eaten the washer.”

  After changing out of their wetsuits and into clean clothes, they rounded up the dog and headed out to eat.

  Over juicy cheeseburgers and skinny fries slathered in ketchup, Gideon told her what he knew about Hannah and Andy.

  “Wait. You’re saying Hannah moved here and discovered her long lost brother here? Andy was kidnapped as a baby. Whoa. That sounds so…cosmic. Is that even the word for it? Karma doesn’t seem to apply either. Imagine, Hannah found her baby brother living right here in town.”

  “Call it what you want, but the first time I heard the story, I didn’t believe it.”

  “Throw in the Scott factor, and it definitely makes for a very strange place to call home.”

  When his cell phone went off, he simply looked at the screen and uttered one word, “Damn.”

  Used to that look by now, Marley smiled, intent on getting in a dig before he took off. “I’m heading home to take a nap, recharge before dinner tonight.”

  “Rub it in, why don’t you?”

  “Oh, I intend to. Go on, I’ve got this.”

  “You sure? I’ll leave the car with you.”

  “Sure. Barkley’s probably ready to get out of there by now.”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “See you tonight or however long this takes.”

  While Gideon hustled out the door to take care of another emergency, Marley got a frantic text message from Hollis wanting her to check on Ellie since he couldn’t do it himself.

  Left alone in the Diner’s booth that faced Main Street, it almost felt like a conspiracy—keep Marley Lennox busy, hopping from one issue to another—so she didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself. No nutjob to those kinds of theories, she chewed on that and decided the idea was ridiculous.

  So, she took the bait.

  Digging in her purse for a twenty to pay for lunch, she glanced out the window to see Scott smiling back at her from the sidewalk across the street.

  Her imagination went into overdrive. Did Scott have a connection to Hollis? Could he have put Hollis up to…? She shook her head at her own rich fantasy.

  After paying the bill, she fired up Gideon’s late model ride and hunted down the Woodside address, the one Gilly had given her Saturday night. She started cruising down Crescent Street all the way to Beacon Lane. This was an older section, east of downtown that she’d only driven through with Gideon the day they were looking at houses.

  Marley found the neighborhood somewhat rundown, but she could see the history
here, where Pelican Pointe had once started out. Nearby was a yellow building with a red roof designated as the old railroad depot, now abandoned and derelict.

  She waved to a gray-haired woman in her seventies, standing on the front lawn wearing a bright pink housecoat and a pair of fuzzy green slippers, watering the flowerbeds.

  Spotting the address, she braked in front of the Woodside house, a little white cottage with royal blue shutters, and came to a stop at the curb.

  Marley knocked on the door. When a young brunette with long hair answered and huge brown eyes, Marley went into her pitch. “Hi there, you don’t know me. I’m Marley Lennox. Hollis sent me to see if you were okay. Are you?”

  At the mention of Hollis, Ellie stuck her head out beyond the screen door to look up and down the street. Her eyes darted left and right. “Is this a trick? How do I know Hollis sent you? How do I know it wasn’t…someone else?”

  Taken aback, Marley held up her phone to show the text messages. “I gave Hollis my number yesterday when I brought him something to eat. He had a compound fracture which Dr. Nighthawk had to fix with surgery. You waited around at the hospital that day until you knew he’d be okay. Dr. Nighthawk is the one who gave you the update. Hollis hasn’t seen you since. He expected you to come by the house. When I saw him yesterday, he was worried…about you. Today, I guess he decided to notch it up and sent me over here.”

  Convinced, Ellie pulled her into the house. The living room was small but tidy decorated in furniture that only existed in the 70s. A green-striped sofa sat next to the window, sagging in the middle. The matching armchair looked like a prop right out of a Frasier rerun. Still acting nervous and wringing her hands, Ellie sputtered out, “How’s he been? I wanted so many times to stop in but…”

  “So why didn’t you? Is it your father? Has he taken a turn for the worse?”

  “No, he’s still the same.”

  “Then what’s keeping you from seeing Hollis?” Marley studied Ellie’s body language. “Don’t you think that’s a tad mysterious? Are you not interested in him that way? Because if that’s the case, you need to be upfront with him.”

  “It isn’t that.”

  Marley picked up on a vibe and tilted her head to study Ellie. “Or…maybe I’m asking the wrong questions. Who is keeping you from seeing Hollis?”

  Ellie’s hands flew to her neck and top of the smock she wore. “Don’t ask me that. I can’t talk about it.”

  Marley wasn’t stupid. She saw the way Ellie kept nervously trying to cover up the area around her upper chest with her hands. Around the edges of her collar, Marley spotted the reason why. There were fresh purple bruises that Ellie’s hands weren’t large enough to hide.

  She decided this couldn’t be the work of the dad or Hollis Crow. “What’s really going on here, Ellie? Talk to me. Those bruises are less than a day old.”

  Ellie’s hands flew to her face. “He’s back. Damon’s back. Okay? I thought he’d moved to Fresno for good. But five weeks ago, he lost his construction job because he fought with his boss. He came back here two weeks ago. He’s been living out of his car ever since. He said if I went near Hollis again, he’d kill me, he’d kill my dad, and then he’d kill himself.”

  Marley narrowed her eyes. “You can’t give in to that kind of emotional blackmail. It’ll just continue with no end in sight. Manipulators love using blackmail to keep their victims in line. We’re turning him in to the police, Ellie. Even if it means you have to take out another RO.”

  “But the restraining order was worthless.”

  “Not for law enforcement, it isn’t. Those fresh bruises give the cops a reason to pick him up.”

  “He’ll just get out again. He always does. He used to throw me up against the wall and laugh about it. He’s mean, always has been.”

  “I get it. I’ve seen my fair share of ROs that don’t do much. But in this case, Damon has already violated the court’s instructions. How long he stays in jail is for the judge to decide. Is he living here?”

  “No! Damon hates to be around sick people, especially my dad.”

  “Thank goodness for that. Is it okay to leave your dad alone for half an hour?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m taking you to the police station. We’re sitting down with an officer and discussing why this Damon guy has been allowed to harass you like this.”

  “No. No. I can’t. He’ll see me. Damon will know. I can’t do it. Do you want all of us to die?”

  It began to sink in that she’d walked straight into a nightmare. Marley backtracked. “Okay. Okay. Calm down. We’ll come up with a workaround.”

  Chewing her lip, she tried to think of something else. Then it hit her. “I’ll call the station, have a patrolman meet me at the animal clinic. I’ve got my dog in the car, so it’ll be like I’m leaving here and taking him in for an emergency. We should exchange phone numbers. You call me if Damon shows up before I get the cops on this. Do not let him enter this house under any circumstances. Do you understand, Ellie? Make him kick the door in if necessary. Then the cops will be able to arrest him for more than violating a restraining order. We’d have trespassing, unlawful entry, harassment, threatening physical violence, and disturbing the peace.”

  Ellie looked bewildered. “You’ve done this before.”

  “A couple of times. Yeah. You got a picture of this asshole around somewhere, so I’ll know him if I spot him hanging around?”

  “Sure. Damon sent me our first photo together, so it’s old. He has a beard now. He’s kind of creepy looking. The picture’s crinkled because I wadded it up two years ago. But apparently, Damon put it back together.”

  “Aw, sentimental for sure.” Marley studied the photograph. It might not help her identify him now since it had been taken too long ago. “Creepy looking, huh? I never would’ve guessed. I’ll use my imagination. Now lock the door behind me.”

  “Okay. And…Marley…thanks.”

  “No problem. Stay strong. Stay focused. You can do this.”

  “We. We can do this,” Ellie corrected. “Tell Hollis as soon as I know Damon’s in jail, I’ll come over.”

  “Will do.”

  After she climbed behind the wheel of the Buick, she realized she needed to set the plan in motion by letting Cord Bennett in on the drill. She called Barkley’s vet. The veterinarian jumped at the chance to help.

  “Hey, I’ll open up the clinic. But why don’t I pick up Brent on the way.”

  “Because I don’t know, even as we speak, whether Damon is lurking around the neighborhood or watching from behind the next tree with a pair of binoculars. Ellie says he’s living out of his car, which is another sticky factor. I don’t know how long it’ll take the cops to locate him and get him into custody. We can’t blow this, Cord. I’m not taking any chances. This has to go down right or else Ellie could wind up in the hospital again. Or worse.”

  “Then I’ll make the call to Brent. It needs to be Brent who hauls Damon’s ass into jail like before. Pull around back of the clinic, and I’ll meet you there. Give me ten minutes.”

  “Thanks, Cord.”

  The next hour felt like a pressure cooker about to explode. Marley waited at the clinic, pacing back and forth until she got the call from Brent.

  “I found Pettigrew parked up at the lighthouse,” Brent began. “Piece of cake. He was sound asleep, curled up in the backseat of his old Chevy. Mr. Pettigrew likes to rough up women, but he’s a giant pussycat when it comes to dealing with men.”

  Marley let out a deep breath, relief welling up. “I’ll pass the info along to Ellie. Thanks.”

  “No, ma’am, thank you. It was my pleasure seeing the look on his face when I slapped the cuffs on him again. I wish Ellie had told me he’d come sniffing back around.”

  “Me too. But she was scared half to death he’d make good on his threats.”

  “Tell her for me that Pettigrew should be transferred to the county facility by the end of the week. He’ll b
e out of Pelican Pointe for a long stint.”

  “There’s no chance he’ll make bail?”

  “Nope. I know the judge.”

  Marley let out a pent-up breath. “Okay then, that’s a job well done. Thanks.” She turned to Cord who was holding a fretful kitten. “Whew! That was close.”

  “Want a cat?”

  That simple request broke the tension. “No. That mutt you gave me is enough of a handful.”

  “You know, you did good this afternoon, better than. Ellie’s lucky you stepped in when you did. Otherwise, this situation might’ve gotten out of hand fast.”

  “I just did what Hollis asked me to do.”

  “It’s more than that. Don’t minimize it. I’m not trying to butt in or anything, but…”

  “People always say that right before they do.”

  “I want you to know, it’s not easy, but you can put your life back together. I know because I did it after a very public, mental breakdown.”

  “What triggered it?”

  It was still painful to talk about. But Cord decided if it could maybe help Marley, it’d be worth a discussion. “I watched the woman I intended to marry gunned down at the church right before the service. It happened as she was about to walk down the aisle. The man, one of her old lovers, or maybe her current one, whatever he was to her at the time, took exception to our getting married. He went ballistic. He didn’t just kill Cassie, shoot her in the head right in front of me, but several other wedding guests. The incident was far worse than anything that ever happened to me overseas. I had a hard time coping after that. I tried ending it all…a couple of times. Okay, more than two, but I wasn’t even very good at that.”

  Marley found that hard to believe. The man she saw standing in front of her seemed like a consummate professional, a man dedicated to his wife, his business, and taking care of the animals that came to him. “You attempted suicide multiple times? What on earth changed?”

  “A lot of things. For one, I moved here at the insistence of Nick Harris, a friend of mine from when I was in Iraq.”

  “Scott’s Nick Harris?”

  Cord’s face spread into a grin. “I see you’ve met the infamous Scott. So much, the better. Maybe you don’t need my advice after all.”