Beneath Winter Sand

by Vickie McKeehan

  “And where’s his car? No one’s seen him driving around town. Walking yes, driving no.”

  “Good point. Let’s see where Eastlyn goes with this before we start panning the idea.”

  Hannah felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She turned to see Sydney standing off to the side.

  “Hey. I’ve been meaning to tell you how very sorry I am about…about…those remains…that could…maybe…turn out be…your…brother.”

  Hannah got to her feet so she could hear Sydney better. “Thanks. Maybe we should go out in the lobby so we can talk.”

  “Good idea. My voice tends to carry. It’s the ER nurse in me. I don’t know how to whisper.”

  The two women moved into the foyer near the trophy case.

  “Do you miss being at Bradford House?” Hannah asked. “I sorta miss cleaning all those rooms. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Yeah, me too. It’s a great old house, or it was before this. It’s sad really. Quentin, Beckham and I were enjoying living there. We’re still debating the issue, back and forth, mainly because Quentin just spent a bundle on buying the place. I tend to think that’ll play a huge role in our decision.”

  “No matter what the DNA results are, I think you guys should move back in there. The house has so much character that you don’t see in houses these days. And that view is…spectacular.”

  “I don’t know. It’s a lot to process having that kind of thing found in your yard. Do you think you could ever get past having a dead body discovered where you live? A baby no less? And what if we find out it’s your brother? How would you feel then?”

  “I see your point.”

  “See. I’m not sure what to do. It’s weighing on me…a lot. Brent says they’ll be done digging by the end of the week and we can pick up with the yard renovation. But I’m just not sure it’s the right thing to do. It’s so strange. You think the remains belong to your brother while Quentin is convinced that baby has something to do with his uncle.”

  “Just goes to show no one seems to have any answers. Yet. Are the three of you comfortable where you are now? At your house?”

  “My house isn’t as large, that’s a fact. But Beckham seems happy there, which means we don’t have to have the big house. It’s just that…if we put it back on the market…who else will want to buy it after…this?”

  “Don’t forget the real estate market is bouncing back. There’s always someone out there looking for the biggest house on the block with an ocean view.”

  “But here, in Pelican Pointe? It might be tough to unload,” Sydney pointed out. Lowering her voice, she leaned in closer. “So…you and Caleb, huh?”

  “Looks like.”

  “You guys should come to my house for dinner Friday night. It’ll give Quentin a chance to cook out. Don’t expect anything fancier than burgers and hot dogs, not at our house anyway.”

  “Burgers are fine with us. What time?”

  “Sevenish? I’ll see if I can round up a few others to make it a blowout end of the week party. I have to run now and round up Beckham and Faye. They’re here…somewhere.”

  “Faye? Is that Faye DeMarco? I just recently found a stray, a puppy, and Cord mentioned that Faye dog sits on weekends.”

  “That’s one and the same. You can ask her yourself about dog sitting Friday night. She’ll be at the get-together. She’s Beckham’s little girlfriend. Those two are practically inseparable. I’m not sure it’s completely healthy at this point, but then, if it’s a solid friendship what can it hurt, right? They like the same books, like watching the same movies, and keep up their grades by helping each other with their homework. They rarely argue about anything.”

  “Sounds better than a few of my past relationships,” Hannah added.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Sydney said in agreement, glancing at her watch. “Oh, look at the time. I gotta find those kids and get out of here. See you Friday night.”

  After the meeting broke up, Caleb grabbed Hannah and went in search of Eastlyn and Brent. Surrounded by a slew of people, he nudged them off to the side so he could gauge how it went. “Do you think this did any good at all?”

  Like any cop who’d just held court, Brent had a certain confidence about him. “Are you kidding? When this town comes together for one main cause, I’ve seen it have a domino effect. Look at the size of the crowd tonight. That tells me the residents are into catching this guy. He’ll be lucky if someone doesn’t shoot his ass trying to peek in the window before the end of the week.”

  “People love a common goal, nothing like trying to find a peeping Tom to jumpstart a community effort,” Eastlyn added.

  Brent nodded. “I predict within forty-eight hours we’ll have our man. Someone here will cross paths with him. He can’t keep eluding us in such a small area for long.”

  Drea walked up with Tucker in tow. She angled toward Eastlyn with something on her mind. “I’ve given this some thought. I’d like to volunteer to go with you when you make the trip to see Eleanor.”

  “As much as I’d like the company,” Eastlyn began. “I need to do this without a member of the family there.”

  “I’m not family,” Hannah stated. “I’ll go with you. Pass me off as your assistant or whatever, maybe another cop. I’ll do it.”

  Eastlyn’s lips curved up. “Now we’re talking. Okay, here’s the deal. Brent and I have gone over a strategy that he thinks—based on other conversations he’s had with law enforcement about Eleanor’s personality type—should be most effective at getting her to talk. Without family members around, there’s a good chance she’ll drop that ‘poor me’ attitude, maybe drop her guard, and we can get past two decades of lies.”

  “Or bring popcorn for the show,” Cooper finished, still cynical. “Eleanor loves performing for people and not in a good way. She excels at showing off. Since her time spent in Georgia she’s even perfected a southern accent.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes. “Yeah, California girl goes Scarlett O’Hara. Drama queen with a little southern belle thrown in.”

  Drea slapped Caleb on the arm. “I wish you guys would stop being so negative. It makes sense not to have family confront her since that seems to be what triggers Eleanor’s buttons.” She looked over at Eastlyn. “I should give you some of the letters she’s written me. That insight might be just the thing that gives you the edge, get a peek into her psychobabble and maybe you’ll be able to get her to leave us alone.”

  Eastlyn rocked back on her heels. “Good idea. Caleb? What about the letters she’s sent you? Cooper’s let me read most of her correspondence to him. But before I make the trip, I’ll round up yours and bone up on where Eleanor’s head is. Every little bit helps to know the personality we’ll be dealing with.” She turned to Hannah. “You should probably do the same and then we’ll compare notes on the drive up.”

  “But not before we catch this guy, right?” Hannah confirmed. “I’d really like to feel safe again in my own home. The dog helps but I’m not sure she’s strong enough yet to attack a predator just yet.”

  Eastlyn patted her on the arm. “Don’t worry. We won’t go anywhere until we can catch this bastard.”

  After everyone went their separate ways Caleb walked Hannah out to the parking lot. “What did Sydney want earlier?”

  “She invited us over Friday night for a barbecue. I accepted. I hope that’s all right. I did it without even talking to you first.”

  “It’s fine with me. It’ll give me a chance to bug Beckham. I like that kid. He’s a go-getter, smart, too.”

  “I got the feeling Sydney wants to discuss the…situation with the…remains.”

  “But we don’t even know who it is yet.”

  “Whatever the reason, Sydney mentioned they might not go back to the house, which affects your project there.”

  “I’ve been expecting that. I won’t hold them to the contract they signed. Doesn’t matter. My heart’s no longer in it anyway. Redoing the yard seems…way down on t
he list of priorities.”

  Once they reached the Suburban, Hannah peered inside at Molly. She’d left the dog wrapped in a layer of blankets so she wouldn’t catch a chill.

  While staring at the dog, an idea hit that she thought might cheer Caleb up. “Let’s take Molly for a short walk around the park. Cord took a quick look at her hip this afternoon on his way home and pronounced her officially on the mend. He thinks her leg is ready for some light exercise.”

  “Without the wagon?”

  “Yup. Whaddya say? I want to be the first to show her the town.” She nestled into his chest and threw out a tempting offer. “Afterward, I’ll buy you ice cream at the diner.”

  “Make it a triple chocolate cone and you have a deal.”

  “Done.”

  The walk proved cathartic and gave them a chance to see how Molly took to her new collar and the leash. The pup didn’t like either one at first, chewing and nipping at the constraint around her neck. But that only lasted until Hannah distracted the dog with a couple of treats she’d brought with her. “I want Molly to get well so I’m able to take her with me to work.”

  “You aren’t talking about cleaning houses, are you?”

  “Nope. I’m already looking ahead to beginning my job at the co-op. I have another meeting set up with Isabella for next Monday. And after that, she’ll be turning the entire operation over to me. With two kids, one a newborn, she swears she won’t have time for anything but to pop in from time to time. That means she’s committed to not meddling in my decisions. It also means the success of the place rests on my shoulders. I’m a little nervous about it, wondering if I’ve bitten off too much.”

  “Stop it. You’ll be fine, more than. You already have an idea of what grows well in the soil. Learn to rotate whatever crop you deem the most successful and that’s half the battle.”

  “What if I kill every living thing growing there now? What if all the tomatoes die? What if the lettuce turns brown and tastes yucky? What if the blueberries rot on the vine?”

  “In that case, I’d have to test your nitrogen and phosphorous levels.”

  She bumped his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already done that, more than a couple of times.”

  He nibbled her jaw. “Yeah, but not nearly enough.”

  Twenty-Two

  Brent’s prediction turned out to be accurate. A mere six hours after the town hall meeting ended, at two-thirty in the morning, the phone next to his bed rang.

  Sound asleep, he struggled to recognize Tucker Ferguson’s voice on the line. From what Brent could make out from the man’s whispering, the silent alarm had been triggered inside Drea’s Flowers. “We can hear someone moving around down there. Want me to see if I can corner him until you get here?”

  “No!” Brent snapped out into the phone. “Weren’t you listening earlier tonight? I’m on my way. Stay put upstairs until I get there. Do not go downstairs.”

  Brent crawled out of bed to get dressed. While pulling on his jeans, he put in a call to Eastlyn. “We have a confirmed sighting. Drea’s Flowers. I’m in route now.”

  “Will meet you there,” said the sleepy voice on the other end of the line.

  Brent arrived first but waited for his backup to get there. A few minutes later, Eastlyn pulled up at the curb.

  Gun drawn, Eastlyn calmly wanted to know, “How do you want to handle this?”

  “You. Front. I’ll take the back.”

  From the alleyway, Brent noticed the back door had been left ajar. He didn’t know who this guy was, but he did know the man was sloppy—a deaf man could’ve heard the noise coming from the storage area.

  Brent pushed open the door and spotted a figure rifling through the boxes Drea had stowed on the shelves. Midway from the end, the guy still had an entire side yet to go.

  “Police. Hands up. Now.”

  From the other side of the room, Eastlyn darted forward to frisk their intruder. “Weapon,” she shouted, and pulled a .38 from the band of the guy’s waist. She lifted his wallet from his back pocket, and slung open the billfold. “Name on his driver’s license is Delbert Delashaw, address out of Columbus, Georgia.”

  Delashaw threw an elbow toward Eastlyn and used his body to shove her backward. She landed against the other side of the shelving, making it wobble. Despite falling backward, she lost her balance briefly, but caught herself before taking a full tumble.

  In Delashaw’s effort to bolt toward the door, the guy met resistance from Brent. The chief of police met him head-on with a fist smack in the face, cold-cocking Delbert with one punch to the nose.

  From behind, Eastlyn kicked his legs out from under him, causing the suspect to fall to his knees. With her boot pressed to his back, she pushed Delashaw face down on the floor. She managed to jerk his hands behind his back to slap a pair of handcuffs around his wrists.

  Brent yanked him to his feet.

  “You broke my nose!” Delashaw protested.

  “Probably. We’ll get the doctor to look at that. But right now, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering, trespassing, resisting arrest, and attempted assault on a police officer. You have the right to remain…” He read Delashaw his rights and drove him to the station.

  After taking his fingerprints, snapping a mugshot, and formally booking their guest for the night, Eastlyn brought him, still handcuffed, into the interrogation room, plopped him down in a chair. “He doesn’t say much.”

  “What would be the point?” the man asked in a nasally southern accent. “What about my nose?”

  Brent, who had brewed a pot of coffee, leaned back in his chair, sipping the caffeine, calm as a priest. “Does that still hurt? Eastlyn, what’s the status on the Doc?”

  “Last I talked to him Quentin was getting dressed. He’ll be here directly I’m sure.” She turned to stare at Delashaw’s face. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you patched up real soon.”

  Brent studied the paperwork on the man so far before glancing up at their prisoner. “Now see, the doctor’s probably on his way right now. How about answering our questions while we’re waiting? That sounds reasonable, doesn’t it? For starters, what’s a man from Georgia doing in our little neck of the woods?”

  “Just taking in the sights along the coast.”

  Having been woken up out of a deep sleep, Brent was in no mood for games. “Really? Inside a flower shop at three in the morning? Are you sure that’s the story you want to stick with?”

  Eastlyn stood to the side with her arms crossed over her chest. “Mr. Delashaw’s driver’s license says he’s forty-two. But he looks thirty-five to me. DL might be phony though. I ran him through the system anyway. Turns out, the Georgia boys want him for murder one. Looks like we have us a celebrity here in our little jail.”

  Brent noticed that statement had Delashaw looking panic-stricken. “Nose hurts like hell, doesn’t it? Any reason why the Georgia authorities would think you might’ve murdered somebody, Delashaw? Aren’t you mildly curious what Eleanor’s gotten you into? Oh. Wait. Maybe you knew her as Loretta Eikenberry.”

  Stony silence from Delashaw had Eastlyn picking up the casual-like tone. “Where’ve you been staying while in our fair city?”

  “You know where. I made camp in that drainage ditch until it rained me out and you guys confiscated most of my stuff.”

  “Near Caleb’s place? Yeah. We saw that. Mind telling us why you’ve been hanging around a member of the Jennings family for the better part of a week?”

  “Look, you already know Eleanor sent me. Okay? I’ve been trying to deliver a message to her family, somebody ought to care what happens to her. Eleanor and I are getting married. She wants y’all to know she didn’t do what they said she did.”

  That brought a genuine chuckle out of Brent. “You mean murder two people? Possibly three?”

  “She didn’t murder nobody.”

  “That’s interesting. Her own brother believes she murdered their father when she was a teenager. If she didn’t
kill anyone then why do you suppose she pled guilty? She stood in a courtroom and told everyone she murdered her husband and another woman in cold blood, signed the paperwork saying she did it. Before she shot them with a .38 she’d been trying to poison her hubby with arsenic for months.”

  Eastlyn leaned in toward Delbert. “Good thing for you she’s locked up. Otherwise, you might be next, Delbert.”

  Brent waited a beat to let that soak in, and went on, “Traditionally speaking, that puts your wife-to-be in the classification of a serial killer. Like serial killers, do you, Delbert?” He watched as the man became visibly more nervous. “When did you first meet Eleanor or Loretta or whatever she was calling herself at the time?”

  “When she moved in to her house in Georgia, I lived down the street. I was twenty-two when we met. That was long before the U.S. Marshalls dragged her back here.”

  “Go for older women, do you?” Eastlyn asked. “She must be a good fifteen years older than you are.”

  “She said she was forty-five.”

  Eastlyn guffawed with laughter. “Maybe a dozen years ago. What’s your angle in all this? What’s in it for you? Besides half the gold, that is.”

  A sheepish look crossed Delbert’s face. “Damn it, I told her you guys beat me to it.”

  “So you’re the guy who did all that damage to the cabin?” Brent asked. “Why?”

  “She said she didn’t like that place and for me to tear it up after I found the gold. I tried to set it on fire but even that didn’t work.”

  “Where did she tell you the gold was supposed to be?”

  “A panel in the back of a lower kitchen cabinet. I kicked that thing in and found it empty. I tore that place apart and it wasn’t in no cabinet anywhere. It was gone. That got her plenty pissed off when she found that out.”

  “You communicated that to her? How?”

  “One of the guards likes her. He lets her use the phone in the office. I call her on that line all the time.”