Last Chance Harbor

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Last Chance Harbor Page 18

by Vickie McKeehan


  After the group finally got their coffee, Ryder walked her back to the booth just as the marching band echoed out over the streets.

  “Pretty soon, you’ll be inundated with people and I won’t be able to do this.” He stopped, turned her into his arms. With all the people milling past them, the kiss was hardly more than a slight press of lips. But it was one of those classic gestures that said, “I don’t care who knows we’re together.”

  “Want to do something after all this madness tonight?” she asked.

  “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Troy and I are picking up a few extra bucks this weekend pulling security detail for Brent. He’s swamped. For the next two nights we’ll be keeping an eye on the vendor booths.”

  “But Ryder, you’re practically working round the clock as it is. When will you sleep?”

  “I’ll take turns with Troy grabbing some shuteye. Look, Julianne, I know you wanted to spend time together this weekend but I need the money.”

  The light finally dawned. “You’re using it to hunt for Bethany, aren’t you?”

  “I tried one investigator, now I’m trying another.”

  “Ryder, don’t waste your money like this. Go to Brent. Let him help you track her down.”

  “It’s a little damned difficult to admit I was nothing but a pawn in her scam, admit I was so stupid to Brent.” When he saw the disappointment on her face, he quickly added, “I’ll consider it, okay? How’s that sound?”

  “I wish you’d save your precious cash without throwing it down the drain again when Brent could pull out every resource.”

  “Why do you have to be so smart?”

  Her lips curved. “Because I’m Miss Dickinson and I say so. You know, I’ve been thinking. Once I get to town, I’d love to pull together a concert night at the pier. Make it a regular weekly thing. I’m not sure about the logistics of such a gathering but, hearing that marching band this morning, started me thinking. There has to be a number of musicians in town that would love to showcase their talents or their bands and need a venue to perform. It’s a win-win.”

  Ryder stood back, amazed. “This town will really benefit from having you as part of their community.”

  “I’d say that applies to you as well.”

  “Where are you staying this weekend? Are you making the drive back and forth to Santa Cruz?”

  “Nope. Dad is, but I’m at the B&B. He works at the house all day tomorrow and Sunday while I watch the booth. I took the last room Nick and Jordan had available. It isn’t the luxury suite and I have to share a bathroom but nothing beats the accommodations or the food at Promise Cove.”

  “I’d drive you out there this afternoon if I didn’t have to go on the clock.”

  “It’s okay. Will we ever get time for just us, Ryder?”

  “You bet. We get this weekend behind us and we’ll have a real, honest to goodness date.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Stepping back inside the tent, she handed a steaming Styrofoam cup off to her dad.

  “Why don’t you go take a peek at the floats,” John suggested as he took the caffeine.

  “Nah, I want to be here for my first sale. I already have a buyer for the lacey ivory dress.”

  “You mean the wedding gown?”

  “A versatile evening dress that can be used for exchanging vows or dinner out,” she corrected with a wink. She found a piece of paper, a black marker, and began to write the word “hold” on a sign to drape over the outfit she now considered Bree’s.

  For the next several hours she and her dad waited on a steady stream of customers. She gave Jordan a great price on the little side table with the curved legs. Emma Colter bought the cabinet to help organize her sewing room. Janie Pointer just had to have the wing chair recovered in a robust plaid for the man in her life—and Flynn McCready’s birthday.

  “We’re doing better than I expected,” Julianne announced after Abby Anderson left with the sketch of two playful dolphins that had been reframed using leftover wood from an old window. “Or should I say the school? I’m so caught up in meeting everyone new that I don’t even care that we don’t get to keep the profits. The important thing is that Pelican Pointe has a future.”

  For the first time since his daughter had made the decision to move here, John decided she’d picked the right town. “So do you,” he said wrapping her up in a bear hug.

  At work, Ryder took his coffee and checked the sheet assignment. He headed into the gym and what used to be the boys’ dressing area. He could tell it had belonged to a bunch of guys by the sections of the blue walls that still remained. For several hours he worked alongside Troy at ripping out drywall. Together they knocked down the one barrier separating the two anterooms.

  The school had never had air conditioning, didn’t really need it this close to the ocean. But it did have a network of air ducts that ran throughout the building. He was almost done for the day when he drew back the single jack and with one swing brought down a cascading mountain of debris. He heard metal ping on the concrete, saw something russet-colored ricochet and hit the bottom of the wall.

  “What the hell?” Troy noted. “What is that?”

  “Looks like an old metal strong box.”

  “Another box?”

  Ryder stepped over, picked it up. “This one’s kinda beat up.”

  “Wow, this entire place is full of junk stuffed into hidey holes. The day you were out sick Zach found an old cigar box.”

  Ryder turned to stare at Troy. “What was in it?”

  “Same kind of trinkets as the first one.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?

  “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

  “What did Zach do with the one he found?”

  “I don’t know exactly. I think he took it home.”

  “Go get him. Tell him to bring the box back here.”

  “Okay, but why? It’s just a box full of odds and ends that belonged to a kid.”

  “Do it,” Ryder directed. Taking out his cell phone, he punched the speed dial.

  When her cell phone dinged, Julianne was in the middle of helping Bree slip the dress over her shirt and jeans to get an idea of the size.

  “Julianne, can you get your dad to watch the booth for you for a little while? You need to get over to the school. Now.”

  “Okay. Sure. Ryder, what’s wrong?”

  “I’ll explain when you get here.”

  “Be there in a sec.”

  “What’s the matter?” John asked. “You look absolutely stricken.”

  “I’m not sure but Ryder sounded like there was a major problem. Pop, watch the booth for me, will you? Bree, take the dress with you, pay me first chance you get. If it doesn’t fit, you can take it to Emma Colter and get it tailored.”

  When Bree started to protest, Julianne waved her off and shot out of the tent, heading down Main toward Cape May.

  By the time she walked into the gym, Zach had gone back home and retrieved the small cardboard box he’d found and kept.

  “What’s going on?” Julianne wanted to know, picking up on the tension in the room.

  Ryder told her about the two boxes. “They may not be related to the first one Troy found but I thought you needed to be here when we opened up the other two.”

  “I had no idea the one I found was significant,” Zach admitted.

  “Did you take anything out of it?” Ryder asked.

  “For God’s sake I’m no thief.”

  “Zach, no one is accusing you. Drop the attitude. We just need to know what was inside when you found it and where exactly it was hidden when you came across it,” Ryder stated.

  “It fell out of the air duct in the east wing.” Zach flipped open the simple lid. “See, nothing of value—a few shiny coins that were minted in the nineties, a couple of music cassettes, namely R.E.M. and Guns N’ Roses, and some stained piece of ugly fabric—just junk a kid might collect, nothing mo
re.”

  Julianne eyed the ragged scrap of shirt, knowing it matched the first one. She picked up one of the quarters, noted the 1992 date. “Each box is like a mini time capsule. What about the other one, the one you found just now?”

  Ryder worked the latch up, opened the beat-up metal case. He rifled through the stuff. “Look at this, a few drawings done in crayons, more baseball cards. This is a 1991 Upper Deck Michael Jordan baseball card. You’re right. This is the simple possessions of a kid, a boy, I’d say.”

  “Is the card valuable?”

  “Not really, five bucks maybe at the most.”

  He rummaged through the rest. “A rabbit’s foot, some cash.” After counting out the rumpled dollar bills, he proclaimed, “A whopping nine dollars.” But at the bottom, something caught his eye. A stained piece of fabric under everything else. Ryder’s mouth went dry. “Julianne.”

  She stared at another matching sample of the same material. “Oh my God. It’s as if someone planted these all around the school. It’s as if they very much wanted them to be found.”

  “It just took us twenty years to do it. But why?”

  “The first one was obvious. The bloody shirt. And now…”

  “What bloody shirt?” Troy and Zach repeated at the same time.

  It was Julianne who took them through the rest. “If we try to connect the dots, it’s obvious to me that some child felt the need to hide his possessions like this, away from the prying eyes of adults. He had a secret he wanted to share but didn’t know how.”

  “Maybe someone who didn’t have a place to put his stuff,” Troy ventured. “Maybe the kid was homeless. I know how that feels.”

  Ryder thought about that. “Or someone who wanted to get it out of the house. For safekeeping. Which one of us makes the call to Brent?”

  “You do it,” Julianne suggested. “I need to take a walk.”

  “Go ahead. Why don’t you head across the street and get everyone a bottle of soda from McCready’s. After we’re done here, I’ll treat you to a beer.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Be right back.”

  But Ryder followed her out the door. “Are you okay?” he called out.

  “No.”

  He had to run to catch up with her. “I know this whole thing is weird but—”

  She whirled around to face him. “Weird? Personally, I don’t care what the Jennings kids told Brent. Finding these boxes has to be related to Layne and Brooke. It has to. Let’s say for argument’s sake though that it’s something else. Whatever conclusion you come to one thing is clear. Whoever that child was hid away the awful bloody clothes. They did it because he or she was troubled and haunted about something horrific.”

  Drea’s bright, eager face popped into her head. The florist hadn’t seemed to be harboring a dark secret this morning while she’d ordered coffee. That aside, Julianne’s fury didn’t lessen. “Need I remind you that even Brent used the words evil and dark to describe this whole thing? There’s a reason for that. He senses something that he isn’t willing to share.”

  “I don’t disagree with you. But without some sort of proof what good does it do to speculate?”

  She tried to tamp down her rage at the idea that a child had been dragged into a sordid situation involving death, perhaps even murder.

  “At this point, someone needs to do more than speculate.”

  After the fair ended for the day, Julianne knocked on Brent’s front door. When he answered, the words rushed out. “I’m not here to debate about a spooky séance or the psychic vision thing so relax.”

  “Good to know,” Brent said flashing his grin.

  “Don’t try to use that smile on me, Brent Cody. It won’t work. Since I’m more like an honorary sister to you than a female, that charming face of yours is of no concern to me.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re both. Come on in.”

  “No, I didn’t come here to intrude on your Friday night with your family. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll just stand out here and say what I came to say.”

  He stepped out onto the porch, motioned for her to take a seat on the steps. “Do you plan to tell me why you’re so mad and yelling at me?”

  “I’ll tell you why. When an adult drags a child into something dark and evil—your words not mine—it pisses me off. Now, more pieces of the bloodstained shirt turns up, which just proves it wasn’t a fluke. So don’t try to placate me.”

  “You’re so worked up, I’m not gonna try to do anything at the moment.”

  “Good because that would just piss me off, too.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “Why Julianne Dickinson I don’t believe I’ve heard you utter a curse word before now, let alone two times in one night. What would my mother say?”

  “She’d probably want to wash my mouth out. Look, I have nothing against the Jennings family, nothing at all. I even spent a Saturday night not that long ago shooting pool with Drea and she seems like a nice person. But when Layne’s kids told you that box didn’t belong to any of them, I don’t think they were telling you the truth. All three are hiding something.”

  “I know that.”

  “You do?” She suddenly ran out of steam and dropped her butt down on the steps.

  “Julianne?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been in law enforcement since I joined the army at eighteen. I have a pretty good second sense when I think someone’s deceitful. But I won’t discuss…”

  “An ongoing investigation,” Julianne finished. “I get it. What do you think happened the night Layne and Brooke vanished then?”

  “Didn’t I just say…?” He blew out a sigh. “Oh hell. These days it’s very difficult, if not impossible to disappear without leaving a digital footprint.” At the look of confusion, he added, “Technology-wise you use a credit card, an ATM, a social security card—it’s easy enough to track. Back in the nineties when Brooke and Layne went missing it might’ve been somewhat easier. For what it’s worth, I already mentioned that I don’t think the two ever left Pelican Pointe…so…what I’m about to tell you is not for public consumption, understand?”

  “Of course.”

  “Brooke was from Scotts Valley.”

  “That’s just a few minutes north of Santa Cruz.”

  “That’s right. So after a couple of days of not hearing from her, it was no big deal for her family to drive over to Pelican Pointe to check up on her, make sure she was okay. When her parents arrived at her house—the one over on Pacific Street—they discovered her car still parked in the driveway. It was Brooke’s father who called in a missing persons report right then and there. The thing is Layne’s car was found a few miles south of town, parked on land that used to belong to Eleanor’s family.”

  “Ah. That makes no sense. Why would Layne do that? Wouldn’t you need a mode of transportation to run away with your lover and start a new life together? Isn’t that essential for escape?”

  “Exactly. So if they didn’t take Brooke’s car or Layne’s, what wheels did they use to head out of town? How did they get to a train or bus station? Hell, how did they get to the nearest airport? A taxi? There’s no service from here. You can rent a limo or a car at the Santa Cruz Airport but back when this happened they didn’t provide service to pick you up in Pelican Pointe. I checked.”

  “What about tracing the 1984 class ring? Because Gerald Colter told Ricky Oden who told his wife that he was pretty sure Layne went to UC Santa Barbara.”

  “Cut it out. I’m not willing to discuss specifics with you.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry, Brent.”

  “Why?”

  “Because now I see that the new police chief has a handle on this whole thing. More than I thought he did.”

  “I understand why you’re upset. After all, you’re the one who discovered the evidence that kicked off this entire investigation. You have a stake in it.”

  “Does it matter that Eleanor’s dead and can’t be prosecuted if i
t turns out to be her?”

  “My attempt at learning what really happened to those two that night won’t factor in that Eleanor’s gone. If I find out it was Eleanor who did something, it closes the case. But I’m more determined now than ever to uncover where they went. If, after all this time, I find out the couple is living a quiet life in Fiji, or somewhere equally tropical, then I’ll wish them well and put them on my Christmas card list.”

  She bumped his shoulder. “I should be mad at you for making Ryder work the entire weekend. By any chance did he talk to you about anything…significant?”

  “Julianne?”

  “What?”

  “In all the years I’ve known you, I never realized you were such a nosy busybody.”

  “Oh, be quiet or I’ll tell River about your disgusting habit.”

  “I’m sure she knows all about it.” But he cocked one eyebrow as if he’d just thought of something. “You wouldn’t?”

  “Oh yes, I would. I’ll tell your wife how you’re addicted to chocolate ice cream, especially triple chocolate fudge with double chocolate syrup. I’ve seen you gorge on the stuff until you make yourself sick.”

  “You’re a cruel woman, Miss Dickinson.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  Once she left the Cody house, she bypassed the food court, even though it was still grilling burgers. The line was too long to wait so she made a stop at the Hilltop Diner to order take-out—greasy cheeseburgers with everything on the side and fries to go. She added vanilla milkshakes and dessert—a triple fudge tunnel cake—Mona, the waitress, dubbed it as her father’s own version of death by chocolate. She figured Ryder and Troy could both use the sugar rush.

  She tracked Ryder down at the corner of Crescent Street by the booths near Ferguson’s Hardware.

  “What have you got there?” he asked.

  She held up the bag and dangled it in the air. “Food. Can you take a break?”

  “Sure, as long as we keep it close. What are you doing here, Julianne?”

  “I just had a long talk with Brent.”

  “That’s odd, so did I…earlier when he came to the school.”

 

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