Beneath Winter Sand

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Which on today’s market equates to over six hundred thousand dollars,” Caleb informed them.

  Landon let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of dough.”

  “Exactly,” Cooper stated. “My point is, I’m not sure what the repercussions are letting that info get past these four walls. All I know is there will be a major downside to it. Thoughts?”

  “I agree,” Drea said quickly. “That amount of money will change us. And if not us, the people around us. They’ll likely view us differently.”

  Eastlyn wasn’t thinking about appearances. What bothered her were the inconsistences. There was a mystery here that didn’t make sense, beginning with the bag itself. “Can we spend a few minutes figuring out how that bag came to be at the cabin in the first place?”

  Landon cleared his throat. “I have some idea about that, only I’m not sure you’ll believe me.”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Caleb wanted to know. “Does it have anything to do with Eleanor ripping off our grandfather?”

  Landon’s eyes bugged out. “It seems you’ve already gotten from point A to point B without me.”

  Caleb stuck his hands in his pockets. “Only because we hashed it out on the trip back to town. We all know the story about how Euell Jennings lost everything. That’s why he supposedly shot himself in the barn that day. His investments had tanked. He was out of money.” He spun around to Landon. “You said yourself you thought Eleanor made it look like suicide.”

  Landon looked like he might throw up. To relate what he knew, he had to swallow down the bile. “Dad had a bag of coins just like that one. He got this wild idea that Krugerrands were the future. So he tracked down a coin dealer out of San Francisco with an inroad to bringing them into the country. Dad paid cash, kept the transaction low-key, and hid the gold away in the safe in his study. By the time he died, he’d had them for years. Hours after he died, it was Eleanor who started the rumor Dad was broke. Then after the funeral we were coming up on probating the will. I knew about the bag, same as Eleanor did, knew it would probably be revealed during probate. I thought if the cash in the bank is gone we still have a backup plan, a plan B. I wasn’t worried because I was sure we still had the gold. Those Krugerrands were Dad’s ace in the hole. So after we buried him, that afternoon I opened the safe. Imagine my surprise to find it empty, cleaned out. The gold was gone and so was the bag. I never laid eyes on it again until today.”

  “So basically, it’s your inheritance, yours and Eleanor’s,” Caleb stated.

  “I suppose. But Eleanor never liked to share. Now, I don’t want any part of it,” Landon declared, looking over at Shelby. “Do you?”

  “Well, I won’t lie, it would go a long way to feathering our nest egg, fattening it up wouldn’t hurt. But no, you guys should probably split it between the three of you. That seems fair after everything she’s put you through.”

  Caleb exchanged glances with Cooper and Drea. “Is that what you guys want?”

  Cooper tightened his jaw. “You’re forgetting Eleanor in that equation. She believes she’s still entitled to it. She tried to cut us out once. Literally. If the guy she sent had found it before we did, we wouldn’t even be huddled in the office like this discussing the topic. So the question remains what do we do about Eleanor and this guy who keeps hanging around spooking everyone?”

  “Catch this dude,” Eastlyn stated in a no-nonsense voice. “Get the town involved in the hunt. If we can find him, maybe we can get him to turn on Eleanor and end this for good.”

  Drea nodded. “I like that idea. I don’t much care what happens to Eleanor after they find him.”

  “I could get on board with ratting out Eleanor,” Caleb said. He angled his head to look at Eastlyn. “Please tell me you have a brilliant sure-fire, military strategy guaranteed to work.”

  “Nothing’s guaranteed. But I need more information before coming up with a strategy.”

  “Like what?” Cooper asked.

  “There are a few things nagging me about the gold that just won’t let go.”

  “Okay. Maybe you should just spit ’em out,” Cooper stated.

  She stared at her husband, let her hands rest on her hips. “From what you told me of the story that night, Eleanor lit out of here after jumping in the water, leaving you guys stranded. She disappeared, left you guys in Smuggler’s Bay without a backward glance. Why didn’t she immediately head to the cabin and retrieve her stash? That gold would’ve kept her off the radar and made life on the run infinitely easier. Why didn’t she take it with her that night?”

  Cooper scrubbed his hands down his face. Would all this speculation ever end? He stood up, angry. “Maybe because that night she was bat-shit crazy. She’d just killed two people. She had to enlist her own nine-year-old son to help get rid of the bodies. Her mindset was… How can I put this? Run away…get away, far, far away. Get the hell out of Dodge before the kid decides to blab and turn her in to the cops. I honestly think she thought the three of us wouldn’t make it back to shore that night, that we would die right out there on the water. I’m absolutely convinced that’s what she was hoping for. But she didn’t hang around long enough for me to ask about her plans or to ask whether she gave a shit about any of us. I’m fucking tired of trying to explain the reason Eleanor does anything. The truth is we may never know. And I’m so tired of this…her…this part of my life. I just don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

  Eastlyn knew her doubts would strike a nerve. She also knew Cooper’s fury wasn’t directed at her but at himself and at Eleanor. She wanted to soothe over his rage. But first, she needed to offer a solution, something that might end this once and for all.

  She put her arms around his back. “You’re right. I’m not able to argue with a single point you made. You deserve to end it here…now. That’s why I’m willing to go see Eleanor behind bars and interview her…officially…get her on the record.”

  “Been there, done that,” Cooper fired back. “Didn’t do one bit of good.”

  “I’ll think of another angle for the interview. When I went with you before, I wasn’t a cop. I’d like to see her squirm, see if I can get her to admit what went wrong with her plan that night. Did you ever wonder who helped her escape? Someone did, someone here in town. She doesn’t do anything on her own, including cleaning up after herself. She couldn’t have set the plan in motion without major help.”

  Cooper dropped into a chair. “Fine. Go talk to her. Go ask all the questions you want. But you won’t get the truth. You’ll get everything but that.”

  “Maybe. But then I’ve got all the gold in Pelican Pointe to use as incentive, don’t I? I’ve got what she wants more than anything else.”

  “You plan to reward her?” Cooper ground out, indignant at the prospect.

  “Dangle. I plan to dangle it just within her reach. But first I have to catch this guy who’s after the loot. To do that, I propose holding a town hall meeting and get the community involved. Julianne’s already offered to let us use the auditorium tonight. I want the whole town on the lookout for this guy.”

  After depositing the bag of gold in the bank, Caleb and Cooper needed a drink. They ended up walking in the door at The Shipwreck in the middle of the afternoon, something Caleb couldn’t ever remember doing before.

  “Do people drink shots before three o’clock?” he asked Cooper.

  “Alcoholics do it all the time.”

  “Thanks, that makes it so much more special for me.”

  With a keen eye of observation, Durke took one look at his early bar patrons and knew something was wrong. “Rough day?” he asked Caleb.

  Caleb slid onto one the bar stools and Cooper did the same. “You have no idea. Ever wish you could pick and choose your family?”

  “Uh oh. Trouble between siblings? That’s probably why I relish the fact I’m an only child. No disputes to deal with over toys or territory. What can I get you guys?”

  “Two draft beers will get us started. No p
roblem between siblings,” Cooper explained. “But other aspects of genealogy come into play when you’re dealing with a cold-stone narcissist who, by some unfortunate turn of events, happens to have been the one who gave birth to us.”

  Caleb punched his brother in the ribs and nodded toward the guy sitting alone at a table. The man was mid-thirties, heavily tattooed, and had prison inmate written all over his demeanor.

  “Who’s that?” Caleb whispered to Durke. “I don’t recognize him.”

  Durke set down two pint glasses and glanced over at the man in question. “Some guy who’s been coming in here off and on for the past two weeks. He’s a loner, sits by himself, and usually nurses the whiskey he orders for hours.”

  Caleb exchanged a look with his brother. “Am I getting paranoid or could that be another Eleanor devotee waiting to come after us?”

  “Paranoia is contagious. Let it go. It’s not worth trying to keep up with Eleanor’s fans. I’m so tired of talking about her, thinking about her, even remembering how her damn voice sounds turns my stomach.”

  “We should drink our beers and go home then, stop all this running around in a frenzy reacting to something Eleanor’s either threatened to do or already done.” In truth, he couldn’t wait to get home to Hannah and have a relaxing evening. She’d be worried about the dog and they could deal with the pup together. They could fix dinner in a calm and completely ordinary way, like most other people probably took for granted, maybe tell each other about the kind of day they’d had, go over problems in a reasonable fashion. Then they’d head off to bed and make love before falling asleep.

  Normal. When had the idea of normal ever been so appealing or so sexy?

  Cooper interrupted those thoughts with a grunt toward the stranger. “He’s on the move. Should we follow him?”

  “You just told me to drop it.”

  “I know. But someone followed me yesterday on the hike. It sort of looks like him. We should find out who this guy is.”

  Caleb drained his glass. “Sure. Why not? Let’s see if Eleanor sent this bastard to spy on us?”

  It was a crazy thing to do—following a tough guy with an obvious prison persona about him and not knowing what he would do.

  Cooper sat shotgun while Caleb crawled behind the wheel of his truck. But they didn’t have to go far.

  The man had a Harley parked curbside down at the pier and took off just as Caleb got within forty yards.

  “Go after him,” Cooper urged.

  Caleb responded by gunning the engine. They trailed the guy as the bike looped around to Main Street and headed back through town to the north.

  He managed to stay behind at a safe distance from the stranger until the Harley pulled to the shoulder of the road just before Taggert Farms and came to a stop.

  “What do we do now?” Caleb asked.

  “There’s two of us and only one of him. I say we confront him.”

  Before they could finalize their decision, Caleb saw the guy get off his bike and head toward them. Standing well over six feet, their stranger stood in the middle of the road and shouted toward the truck, “What is it with you guys? Why are you following me?”

  Caleb watched as Cooper stuck his head out the window. “Who sent you to spy on us? We know it was Eleanor.”

  “What? What are you talking about? I don’t even know who you guys are. I saw you at the bar, though. My name’s Bremmer, Simon Bremmer. I’m a friend of Cord’s and Nick’s. Ask them, they’ll vouch for me.”

  “What are you doing here?” Cooper asked his voice getting louder. “Did Eleanor send you?”

  Simon thumbed a hand toward Taggert Farms. “I’m working here, helping Silas and Sammy with the planting season. I just got back from three tours overseas.”

  “Are those military tattoos?” Caleb asked, beginning to believe they were way off the mark.

  “Yeah. Army ranger. Why?”

  Caleb punched his brother’s arm, pulling him back in from the window. He began to try to apologize. “Sorry. Sorry. Major mistaken identity. Our fault. I’m Caleb Jennings. This, raving, paranoid delusional just happens to be my brother Cooper Richmond. So…uh…sorry for yelling at you. Sorry for following you. Sorry in general. If you’ll stop by The Plant Habitat I’ll make sure you a get a free lemon tree as a housewarming gift. No harm done. Well, it’s been nice meeting you, but we have get back to town now. See you around. Welcome. Have a great life.”

  After rambling, Caleb pulled the truck into a U-turn, leaving Bremmer standing in the middle of the road looking confused and more than a little perturbed.

  “Way to go, genius,” Caleb muttered to Cooper.

  Cooper shook his head. “I really do hate my life. Did I mention that?”

  “You did what?” Hannah shouted standing in her little kitchen dicing veggies for a stew. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was confronting a total stranger like that? What if he’d been armed? What if he’d taken out a gun and shot you both right there on the road?”

  “Bremmer seemed like a nice enough guy,” Caleb declared as he finished browning the beef and added his made-from-scratch sauce into the pot to let it simmer. “It was Cooper’s idea.”

  “But you didn’t have to go along with it, now did you?”

  His hands, free now, roamed down to her rear end where he ran his fingers along her firm ass. “I love watching your outrage. I’m more embarrassed than anything else. I haven’t made such a fool out of myself like that since high school when I tried playing tough guy defending Olivia Watson’s honor.”

  “What happened?”

  “Joey Hendricks cold-cocked me and broke my nose. Blood went everywhere.”

  “Poor baby.” Hannah slithered her way up his body until he picked her up. Her legs went around his waist. “Want to fool around while the stew simmers?”

  Reaching behind her with one free hand, he fumbled with the burner on her tiny stove, finally turning it down to low. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

  Across the room, Molly let out a couple of approving yips and danced in place at the end of the bed.

  Caleb’s head snapped around at the sound. “Is she okay?”

  “Oh yeah. I think she’s letting us know she’s happy and safe and fitting right in here with us.”

  Twenty-One

  The turnout was better than Eastlyn expected. Everyone in the auditorium talked at once.

  The town hall meeting, it seemed, was seriously in jeopardy of sliding into chaos before it ever got started.

  Eastlyn tried to gain control, but to be heard over the crowd she had to use the microphone and had to wait for Brent to hook it up backstage.

  Once he gave her the go ahead, she looked out over the multitude, and began her pitch, only to have a screechy feedback kick in.

  Brent adjusted the volume control on the speakers and Eastlyn took a deep breath and got her lines out in one, long spiel. “Okay, people. Sit down and listen up! I’m bringing this meeting to order. I need your attention. Now! We have a situation…”

  Most everyone settled down except for the front row where Myrtle Pettibone, Ruthie Porter, and Marabelle Crawford were arguing over who’d seen the man in question last week. All three claimed to have already shooed him off their property a time or two.

  Prissie Gates and Emma Colter, who occupied seats in the second row, kept trying to shush the old ladies so they could hear Eastlyn.

  For the most part, Eastlyn ignored the ruckus and held up a sketch she’d asked Lilly Pierce to draw and had the school kids hand out at the door.

  “This is our peeping Tom. This is the man who’s been seen around town lurking near several houses and businesses. Note the description. He’s about six feet tall, dark brown hair, and has a somewhat raggedy appearance. If you spot him, don’t approach him, don’t try to detain him yourself. Call Brent or me.”

  Cora Bigelow, the postmistress, held up her hand. “Why don’t I put one of these posters up in the post offic
e right next to the new stamp machine? Everybody in town stops there and stares up at the wanted posters.”

  “There you go,” Eastlyn said. “Community involvement is how we’ll catch this guy. That’s a fine idea, Cora. And to everyone else, feel free to put up one in every window along Main Street until we nab this guy.”

  Barton Pearson, the new funeral director, cleared his throat. “I saw this guy on Saturday. I’m sure of it. He was hanging out between Drea’s Flowers and the Snip N Curl.”

  Barton turned to Drea, who was sitting at the end of the row, for confirmation. “It was when I stopped in around noon to place the order for Margaret Henderson’s memorial service. We decided on a cascade of lovely purple orchids, purple being Margaret’s favorite color. Remember?”

  “I do. But that isn’t the only time he was there. He kept staring at the store for several hours,” Drea added. “He was there most of the day on Saturday. Ask Fern Schiebel. She came in to order roses for her daughter’s birthday and even commented about how the guy wouldn’t stop glowering at her.”

  Tucker let out a sigh. “I wish you’d called me. I’m right down the street. I would’ve confronted him —”

  Eastlyn pointed a finger at Tucker. “Now see, right there, that’s what we don’t want anyone to do. It isn’t against the law to lean up against a lamp post and stare at a business or glower at people. But we have had reports that he’s been peering into windows at night and during the early morning hours.”

  Sitting in the back row, Hannah bumped Caleb’s shoulder. “Is this really a good idea? What if there’s an innocent explanation for this guy hanging around? I thought we agreed that maybe he’s a transient.”

  “It sounds like Eastlyn might be making this stuff up as she goes along. Maybe we are pushing the panic button a little too early. We’re all just a little on edge. Maybe he’s just a homeless person with no place to go. I mean, Cooper swears he was being following on Sunday. This mystery man can’t be in two places at once.”